The Emperor's Beloved Ugly Girl

When he was a child, he especially hated this day. He hated being sent to the temple hungry. He hated that monk who was like a driver and a wooden pile reciting "the curse of death" over and over again. He hated the cry of the driver and his concubines, or hysteria, or pear blossom with rain, or chuchuchuchuchupathetic

This is his birthday!

Why do you always spend it this way?!

He knew that it was his mother's memorial tablet on the Lingtai, but what about that? Why should we remind him again and again that it was his mother's death that brought him new life?

Is that what he wants? Is this what he can choose?

Is it really his fault?

Or is he really so unforgivable? I should have buried my mother with joy for a lifetime?!

……

He was angry, roared, and even ran to the Royal study to make a big quarrel with Zhong Zhiheng. In exchange, he was ordered to be put into the patriarchal clan for discipline. For a whole month, when he came out of the patriarchal clan, he lost 20 jin and left a layer of skin.

Where is the imperial palace? It's a place set up by the order of the old ancestor to punish the royal family. No matter how powerful your royal family and nobles are, as long as you are ordered by the long live master, this place is more terrible than the prison of the Ministry of punishment.

Then, at the age of twelve, Zhong Mingwei became the first emperor son of the great Zhou Dynasty to be punished.

After he came out of the Imperial Palace, Zhong Mingwei became a man. Once upon a time, the young man who was angry with flowers and reckless was gone. Instead, he was replaced by the great prince, who was deep in the city and still in the eight winds.

Since then, every July 7, he no longer wakes up with servants, because he can't sleep at all. He will be alone in his study and sit in the dark garden outside the window for a whole night. Maybe the moon is bright and the stars are thin, or the clouds are thick, or the wind is cold and the rain is bleak. No one knows what he is thinking.

The sacrificial ceremony of empress Zhen Xian has grown year by year. His body kneeling in front of the Lingtai is no longer like that of his childhood. It is as straight as a pine. As always, the curse of the past and the cry of women are still heard, but he doesn't feel so bored.

It seems that everything should be like this.

The Empress Dowager patted him on the shoulder and praised him for his understanding. He smiled and didn't speak.

……

Today is the thirty second day of sacrifice for his mother, empress Xu siyao.

In previous years, it was time for him to kneel on the cold floor tiles of Baohua temple. At this moment, he was in the most desolate and depressed border area of the great week. Although he was so paralyzed and lived in such a shabby house, he felt extremely relaxed and relaxed from top to bottom and from inside to outside.

At dawn, he was thirsty. When he was puckering his lips, he heard the sound of footsteps. He listened to the sound of the light footsteps, and his lips went up involuntarily.

"Thirsty?" Ah Chou comes in with a tray. There are two soup bowls in the tray. The top of the tray is also buckled upside down by ah Chou with two bowls. What he doesn't know in the tray is that it's really fragrant.

Zhong Mingwei stared at the two soup bowls. He began to beat drums in his stomach, but ah Chou didn't understand the Customs at all. First, he poured a cup of tea for him and handed it to him: "drink tea first, it's not hot or cold, it's just fine."

It's a rule that ah Chou made for him to drink tea before dinner. He always lies on his stomach or on his stomach. He has a slow digestion and is easy to accumulate food. After ah Chou kneaded his stomach for several days, he made such a rule for him.

Zhong Mingwei was so busy that he took three mouthfuls of tea and two mouthfuls of tea. He was sucking on the water on his lips, while babbling at the two soup bowls. The elegance and dignity of the past had disappeared.

Ah Chou knew that he was hungry. He opened the inverted bowl with a smile, and then a bowl of hot soup noodles was brought to Zhong Mingwei's face. Zhong Mingwei stared at the white gas rising noodles. In baijinjin's soup, the noodles were served with yellow orange and orange. A spoonful of bright red horseradish was placed on the noodles, and a green oil dish floated gently aside.