The two chatted for quite some time more. Liu Xiaolou poured out much of the bitterness he had suffered back then, drawing repeated sighs from Han Wuwang.
Han Wuwang, meanwhile, spoke of some of the difficulties within a great sect like the Dongyang Sect, leaving Liu Xiaolou deeply sympathetic as well.
Looking back, twenty years had passed in the blink of an eye. Looking ahead, Liu Xiaolou declared that Han Wuwang would surely form a golden core.
Han Wuwang thought so too, and accepted Liu Xiaolou's auspicious words with a smile. Yet he did not dare make the same prediction for Liu Xiaolou. His words—Mei Mo nodded, but Leng Yu's instruction suddenly made her think of the Fourteenth Prince. Her heart gave an irregular thump, and she lowered her head as she slowly left.
The horse, its sore spot struck, let out a neigh and immediately bolted. Leng Yu, seated atop it, had not expected this either. Acting on instinct, she clung to the horse's neck, letting the wind howl past her ears... Only now did she understand the meaning of the words, "the past was like clouds and smoke."
"It's nothing. I just came to see Mother, to keep you company. I never expected to run into you and His Majesty." Ling Yu could not conceal her delight. The imperial palace was not Feiyu Villa; if the Emperor did not visit her palace, it truly was rather difficult to see him even once.
Yet Cheng Yun was not all that determined to go to America either, which made it worth pondering. Could the two sisters have had a falling-out? Zhou Chu knew in a single second that it definitely was not that.
Abnerat rolled his neck, wore a cold sneer, and slouched crookedly onto the sofa. His half-reclining posture