The Third Thousand and Forty-Two Chapters Are Astonishing Step by Step: The Family of Emperors Who Have Been in Love Since Ancient Times (One Hundred and Eighty-Three)

Words that have lingered between lips and teeth countless times but still want to speak, and stopped in their mouths when they are extraordinarily awake, how can they be easily spoken when they are so important in this world.

And now,

Deeply cut to the heart, life and life are completely exposed in front of the dyed white, even if the blood is dripping, it is still in the strength of the heart beating again and again, allowing himself to indulge and indulge and go his own way.

"I love you."

Those three words were imprisoned and trapped for life, entangled in the fate of two people.

All the movements of dyeing white stopped at that moment, as if frozen by time.

It's not that she doesn't know.

It's just that she never thought

Under such circumstances, Mo Liyan would come to tell her these unforgettable words.

The cold wind rustled like a blade, scraping through the eyes, perhaps because the wind and sand were too strong, so the eye sockets would experience a blunt pain when caught off guard.

Against the blood-like light of the setting sun, the outlines of the young emperor were drawn one by one. The dark ink was gradually colored, and it was extremely clear in the dyed white eyes. Those unfathomable Ling Zhan eyes were full of deep affection. And the smile, vaguely brought out the meaning of decisiveness.

Mo Liyan's slender long eyelashes kept trembling, as if a dead butterfly had fallen and perched. He opened his lips and was silent several times. Every word seemed to have exhausted his life's strength, forcing himself to make syllables, and his voice lines were in harmony. Unsteady, even uncontrollable trembling, blood dripping from the lips and teeth, Tu Mi's grief to the extreme, "This time, it's true."

His voice was getting softer and softer, and at the end he could not hear it clearly. It seemed to be whispering to Dianbai, and it was like muttering to himself, like a lone soul floating in the vast world, but it ended up as a dusty ashes. In the end, he still seemed to be smiling: "I didn't lie to you."

The dyed white pupils suddenly tightened, as if a stormy sea was set off in an instant, as if a storm was brewing in the deep sea, mixed with unknown emotions.

At the same time, the blood-stained slender and distinct fingers of the young emperor suddenly grasped the long sword, with a decisive and ruthless force, leaving no time for anyone to react. Pain and cold swept through the body, crushing the bones.

In the white and pitch-black eyes that could not see any light or shadow, Mo Liyan was overwhelmed, his face was extremely pale, as if he had been emptied of all blood, his body leaned forward slightly, and a large amount of red blood was spat out from his thin lips!

Blood-stained robes, cold armor.

Then, the slender and distinct fingers that were still holding the sword, without any strength, finally let go of their hands, and fell to the side in a few moments, and the fingertips were still dripping with dark red blood beads. What flowed down from the palm cut by the blade was the blood that sputtered from the heart. The hand that fell silently had long and beautiful joints, and the bones were faintly visible.

He slowly closed his eyes, his long eyelashes like fallen withered wings covered those beautiful, sharp and unfathomable eyes, all the brilliance disappeared in an instant,

No longer exists, the thin lips were dyed blood-colored crimson, and fell into the white-stained arms, no longer silent.

He is the only one in the world.

There is only one Mo Liyan in the world.

It was the young prince who was looking for life from the dead and was alone.

It was the arrogant, arrogant and decisive His Royal Highness King Jin.

It is the young new emperor who has done all the calculations and strategized.

It used to be so picturesque and graceful; it used to be so smiling, raising a glass and waiting; it was also that even if it fell into the abyss, it was still full of elegance and unpredictable.

The corners of his eyes and the brows were raised like a breeze, his gestures were calm and calm, and his straight figure was pure and noble from beginning to end.

Nine times out of ten, he was cold and cold in his life.

And that only love was dyed white.

It was so alive and real.

But now,

Everything no longer exists.

Sober before sinking, calm and indulgent.

But it is like a big dream, looking through the mirror. When he first woke up, he was full of emptiness.

he died.

Yes.

Mo Liyan died.

Died by her hand, by her sword.

Blood splattered on the white face, on the body, on the hand holding the sword, there was blood everywhere, as if there was still the temperature of the person, it was scorching hot, it was scorching hot, it could burn people and break people's intestines. .

People who have always been obsessed with cleanliness have never reacted, and can't believe the current picture.

I always hear people say,

Destiny is not determined by anyone, whether it is joy or sorrow, joy or sorrow, it is all destiny.

Can be dyed white, but I don't believe it.

only now,

Seeing all this was the opposite of what she had expected, the diametrically opposite picture.

She seemed to understand.

It turned out that he had always been an uncontrollable variable in her life.

The end of the battlefield continues.

Murderous intent and madness.

But all this has nothing to do with whitening.

She didn't care about the scenes around her, nor did she pay attention to the battlefield that seemed to be stationary for a moment.

She just quietly lowered her eyes and looked at the cold, temperatureless person who fell on top of her.

The setting sun is sinking, the setting sun is like blood, it is an ominous sign and color.

It was as if blood had stained this country and overturned the world.

Silent desolation filled the air, and every inch of it was filled with all emotions.

The soldiers who were still in the slaughter and blood just now looked at the picture in the center of the battle with incomparable tacit understanding and rigidity, and looked at the two people who looked like they were hugging each other.

Horrified, astonished, unbelievable, all the emotions came overwhelmingly, pressing down on the heart, almost bursting that heart.

But in all these shocking emotions, there is a bit of confusion mixed with inexplicable.

why……

Why are two people who are obviously hostile in life and death, but under such circumstances, they are so close, so sad and desolate.

Although they were in the battlefield, they seemed to be in another world, isolated from everything.

But anyone who wanted to get close, whether it was the enemy's or his own, was ruthlessly beheaded by the long sword that had just fallen from the sky from Mo Liyan's hand, and they saw blood neatly.

No one dared to approach, as if taking a step closer, it was like a hell leading to the abyss.

Wei Xinglie watched that scene helplessly, he reluctantly stuck his sword on the ground and supported his body, so that he did not fall down due to weakness.

The brain seemed to "boom", it exploded, the strings were broken, and everything fell into blankness and chaos.

His eyes slowly filled with grief and sorrow, and the dark red color was inch by inch, as if stained with blood.

grown ups……

His Majesty……

Wei Xinglie understood very clearly.

Mo Liyan willingly or even deliberately died at the hands of the Korean eldest princess.

Because with that person's strength... it is impossible to lose and die so easily.

It was such a clear understanding, but it made Wei Xinglie feel that a blood hole had been ripped open in his heart, and the cold wind was pouring into it, and the pain was whistling.