Under the pure moonlight, the silver-like-snow blade pointed at Li Yaoying, shining with a cold gleam.
Li Xuanzhen stood on the stone steps, and Yaoying stood below him.
The distance between them was only a few steps.
The long sword in the man's hand only needed to stretch a few inches forward before it would pierce through the young girl's delicate skin.
Yaoying slowly raised her eyes, a trace of a smile sweeping across her face.
"Does Older Brother Changsheng want to kill Ah Yue?"
She asked softly, with inky hair and a ruddy complexion. Her long eyelashes fluttered, the pair black eyes brimming with autumn water.
When she was little, she liked to look up at people with her tiny face, blinking her large and slender eyes, her face flushed pink and bright, round as pearls and smooth as jade, like a pearl emitting a soft luster. When she feigned being coquettish with others, her curled eyelashes flickered gently, capable of shaking up a person's heart each time.
When she looked over with a smile, few people could refuse her requests.
So when she smiled and called him Older Brother Changsheng, asking him to help her make a clay figure, he nodded his head and agreed.
However, the clay figure was a gift she intended to give to Li Zhongqian.
Li Xuanzhen's wrist trembled gently. The moonlight casted a faint shadow on his face, and it was impossible to tell whether he was happy or angry.
Zheng Biyu was bewildered.
She was familiar with the address Older Brother Changsheng.
Li Xuanzhen's childhood nickname. Tang shi feared that he would not live long, and gave him a common name that had an auspicious meaning: Changsheng Nu.
Previously, only Tang shi called Li Xuanzhen that way. After Tang shi passed, the sole person on earth that called Li Xuanzhen by this nickname was Zhu Luyun.
How did the seventh princess know Li Xuanzhen's nickname?
Zheng Biyu hesitated for a moment then said: "Dalang...."
Her dissuasive words hadn't been spoken yet, but Li Xuanzhen's face went dark. He coldly said: "You all can withdraw."
Zheng Biyu frowned, looking back at Yaoying. Seeing that she was calm and composed, she became increasingly suspicious at heart, but did not show it on her face, leaving with the palace attendants.
The evening breeze gently beat against the bamboo lanterns hanging underneath the corridor, the hazy glow moving along with the slow swaying.
Yaoying took a step forward.
The tip of the sword was only an inch away from her soft, pale neck. She felt as if she could feel the bitter killing intent of the sword thirsting for human blood.
There was not a trace of emotion in her eyes. Holding her skirt, her eyes did not blink as she proceeded to walk forward.
Li Xuanzhen gripped the long sword tightly, gazing down at her, not moving.
Yaoying stepped on the stone steps.
A clink rang out. The moment the sword blade was on the verge of meeting her neck, Li Xuanzhen abruptly withdrew his sword and took a step back, the tip of the sword falling to the ground with an ear-piercing sound.
Without uttering a word, he averted his eyes and threw the sword aside.
"Don't call me that."
Li Xuanzhen said coldly.
YOU ARE READING
Thousand Miles of Bright Moonlight
Romance"Thousand Miles Bright Moonlight" will be adapted to chinese drama soon. Yaoying transmigrated into a novel. In the chaotic and troubled times, many nations were at war. Her father happened to be the most powerful of those vying for supremacy, her...
