Chapter 38: Heavenly Master (1)

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Xiao Yao looked at it at a glance, and it was twice as much as his own, and suddenly he was out of breath. He couldn't help but slumped. "This car is really a bag!" The Emperor Dog actually spends more than her. Xueliang.
"In terms of the number of flowers, I am more popular than you." Feng Luoyu saw her sour and couldn't help smiling at her.
Xiao Yao glanced sideways, dismissing: "There are so many ass!"
It must be those flattery flattery flattered by the grandma, afraid that the emperor spends too little and is not good-looking. Just like modern leaders travel, they have to send some spies to act as the masses, line up to send flowers to support the scene.
"You can't be soft once." Feng Luoyu was helpless.
"No."
A group of men wearing green robes and black robes, led by a man in white clothes like snow, came to the emperor to worship and salute.
Xiao Yao saw at a glance the lonely white that was independent of the black, and couldn't help but cried in surprise: "God stick, you are back from the Western Region."
The eunuchs and maids underneath heard the princess call the fairy-like lotus root grandfather a stick, and could not help cramping her face.
Feng Luoyu was too lazy to scold her. When she was in Chu, this woman was a hypocrite on the left and a magic stick on the right, giving him and Lianhua the nickname unscrupulously. At first he had threatened her dangerously, but I didn't know when it started, but it didn't matter.
The lotus root has always been light and waterless, and does not stain the fireworks on the earth, like a vulgar green lotus. How can you provoke him, he will not have a temper.
So Lianhua glanced at her lightly, looking quiet, and saluting: "Princess Wanfu."
"Okay, stick, when did you become so polite, I can panic. But this face hasn't changed at all, it's as beautiful as a lotus flower, cold as a facial paralysis."
If this is not ancient, she really doubts whether the magic stick is over-hitting Botox, and her expression remains unchanged for ten years. Others admired him for being an immortal fairy, but she felt like a walking zombie.
In the past, when she had poisoned her hair, she was so pained to die. The situation was so terrible that she could not bear to see it, but this stick could not touch her face and touch a long, sensible needle.
Compared with hypocrites, its cruelty is inferior. Hypocrite has at least the joy and sorrow of a normal person. This person is frozen from skin to heart, and I do n’t know what to care for.