Chapter 1: Past lives (1)

Xuhe was ten years old, at the beginning of autumn, and the sky was dark and rainy, and there was a sense of oppression from wind and rain.
The bitter cold wind was blowing from place to place, accompanied by the desperate roar, the slamming of the sword, the snoring sound of long blades, and the thick smell spreading in the air, permeating the entire palace.
The kings are no longer as prosperous as ever, and the palace is no longer golden and brilliant, and the corpses fell to the ground before and after the wide open gate.
The sound of the horn of victory spread soaring far away. Trained soldiers rushed into the palace, and the blood-stained swords could no longer see the original color. Whether they survived or died, they all knew that King Jinnan's iron hoof had already captured Wangdu in one fell swoop and was heading for the Golden Temple.
It's going to change!
The court eunuchs and concubines were all in a mess, and they packed up their bags in a hurry and ran away. They were surrounded by upside-down furniture and clothing, and the screams and panic were endless.
The blood from the corpse that had fallen to the ground, oozing out of the blood, stained the ground, and was as dazzling as Manjushahua, but it was a symbol of death.
In the horrible assassination and screams, a melodious piano sound flowed from the northwest corner of the palace. The sound of the piano is as elegant and clear as the mountains and flowing water, and the cool tunes are calm and calm, and they seem out of place in this crisis and cruel moment.
This is a forgotten corner of the palace. Few people in the palace still remember the first emperor of the emperor eight years ago-the famous maid of the Nangong family, Nangong 玥 has been imprisoned in this cold palace for eight years. .
In the cold palace, the shabby and desolate, faded courtyard walls, the messy fallen leaves, the houses covered with spider webs, the rotten doors and windows, were all intact.
I don't know when the drizzle has stopped, the dark clouds poke away, a full moon hangs the night sky, and the silver moonlight softly sprinkles.
On the icy steps, a thin thin figure of white sitting cross-legged, leaning against a dead yellow dead tree, with a carved hollow harp in front of her, her ten fingers jumping above the strings, beautiful piano sound It is from here.
Nangong Yan straightened her waist and relaxed at Yue Fuqin. She looked so thin, like a piece of paper, as if the wind blew, it would fall down. But she was so tough, her dark eyes were like the bottomless sea. In this messy environment, she seemed muddy and unstained, and her noble temperament was natural.
She closed her eyes, panic-stricken footsteps and bursts of screams came into her ears, the corner of her mouth could not help evoking a beautiful smile, the movement of her fingers suddenly accelerated, the whole tune suddenly changed, as if From soft drizzle to majestic rain ...
The excitement of the piano symbolizes her heart at this time, and the thick smell in the air makes her even more excited. Vaguely, she seemed to smell the blood shed by the tribe again, she was so hopeless, deep and unforgettable!
Her slender white fingers are as tender as green onions, jumping quickly on the strings, like a galloping horse, spreading farther and farther, and she always has a faint smile on her face.
The sound of the sword was dumb, and thousands of horses killed. No matter soldiers, palace people, or anyone who sees them, the palace is empty, and those who ran away have already fled early. Most of the palace has fallen instantly. This moment has finally arrived ...
"boom!"
The shaky courtyard door was kicked rudely, and finally came to an end. Bursts of footsteps rushed into the cold palace. The man headed was wearing a bright yellow dragon robe, holding a weak and beautiful woman in his arms, and followed by a line of sword guards.