Even after leaving the palace, there has never been such a rare feast or carnival.

Not only the nine ministers except Lu Lingqing were happy, but even the White Snake was relieved - even if it was drinking and having fun every day, it didn't matter, at least His Majesty began to issue various fatal orders and policies without slapping his forehead.

After waived three years of blood tax due to the tribute presented by the subjects and the beauty Long Yan was very happy, the beauty was offended by the beauty's coquettish words, and then slaughtered all the settlements that had just been given... This kind of thing is almost a common practice.

The strange ideas every now and then made the blood pressure of the White Snake and the most miserable Tiangongqing continue to climb to the top.

Including and not limited to various huge metal giants, wonders and another brand new palace that is not inferior to the Li Palace, and even the emperor personally conquers the Sea of ​​Thunder...

Compared with the dark time filled with blood and tears, life is so pleasant now.

Even Baishe himself never expected that one day he would be so grateful to a person in the present.

Hunting, drinking, banquets, duels...

Just as a child who had a collection of palace toys met another playmate who came to visit, the Withered King led the rare visitor to visit the entire country of destruction, and even arranged six poets to create poems for their visits, engraved on stone tablets, and even created a new spectacle of the Monument.

Perhaps, this is also related to the poet with the shortest stone tablet that will be punished by soul-cutting...

Not only that, he even generously gave the visitors a courtesy and honor that was not inferior to their own, and never asked the other party to surrender or bow down.

The other party seemed to take it for granted, enjoying this courtesy with his head raised, and glanced at the group of solidified people besides the King of Withering. He was not polite, and his face full of arrogance and pride made people feel increasingly unpleasant.

Now, as the other person's body declines and decays day by day, even the White Snake doesn't know whether to mock or regret it. But this is also true.

As small as ordinary things, they do not know the number of days, and their eyes are short-sighted, and they will eventually rot away their bodies. How can they last forever like the king of hell?

"Ah, it seems like it's almost dead."

At the end of the banquet, Titus, who was leaning on the luxurious throne, was stunned for a moment, and looked down at the blood that he vomited.

The scorching blood was filled with a terrifying temperature, and the ashes floated from it, shining scarlet.

"What's wrong? From the abyss, is your sword okay?" He stretched out his hand and fiddled with the blade that penetrated his chest, full of dissatisfaction.

The Withered King sneered: "All things are poor and cannot receive my complete authority and protection. It is already the limit to be able to last for more than ten days.

However, if anyone who is present finally thinks about it and is willing to bow his head to the real emperor, he may not be unable to receive more grace." "Forget it."

Titus thought for a while, hesitated for a long time, but finally shook his head and sighed regretfully: "You are not a rare and stunning beauty. It is not cost-effective to lower your head for such an inexplicable thing.

Speaking of which, I have had several female emperors in Rome in the past, and they are peerless in appearance. If I could have been born hundreds of years earlier, it would be a pity to lower my head."

The Withering King's expression became more and more joking: "Doesn't you be a traitor if you lower your head?"

Titus laughed out loud and looked up: "Even so, do you still dare to keep a big trouble like me under your nose?

I have been a wise ruler for so many years, but I have never tried the role of a person who harms the country."

The ministers' expressions changed with cold eyes, but the withered king was still calm, just disdainful.

"So what?"

The King of Hell picked up the wine glass again: "It is enough to have one true emperor. Is it possible that what I have created? Can one or two ambitious people shake it?"

"Oh?" Titus was curious: "Do you don't take people like the Maharaja seriously?"

"As far as you are proud of victory and immersed in destruction, all you get is nothingness, no matter how powerful it is, there is nothing

If you make achievements, even if you are alive, you are just a dry bone in the tomb."

He answered disdainfully, as if he had declared the truth: "How can we compare to my creation?"

Titus thought for a moment, looked at the surrounding scenes seriously, and nodded in agreement: "It's not bad. Such a huge country really can't find a second one even if you search for the abyss.

pity--"

He paused for a moment, and his smile became more and more proud: "It's still a little worse than my Rome.

"What you love is nothing but the bubble of yesterday." The Withered King shook his head: "Their destruction is close at hand, but you can't see them dissipating in nothingness."

"Maybe, our world is still shining, isn't it?"

Titus grinned, mockingly probed his head, looking at his appearance, "That is my treasure, my subject, and has nothing to do with you..."

He laughed out loud, "How about it, the abyss, are you envious? Are you jealous? Or, are you hated?"

The Withered King glanced at his proud look, but did not retort.

But he finished the wine in the glass without any haste, got up, walked to his side, bowed his head in his ear, and whispered something.

In the silence, no one else heard his words. However, Titus was stunned.

That expression never appeared on the face of the old Roman emperor.

First he was confused, then he was stunned, and finally he couldn't help laughing out loud, even though he vomited blood while choking.

However, from beginning to end, my eyes only had compassion. Looking at him.

"Can you drink again, from the abyss?" "Of course."

The Withered King stepped on the table and sat opposite him, raised his glass of wine to the dying emperor again, and drank it all with him, singing with the melodious guest as the music and dance.

Until the wine is gone, the silk and bamboo are broken.

The wine glass in Titus's hand fell to the ground, along with the sword nailed to the soul.

Straws of flames rose from the passing bodies, gradually swallowing everything.

It illuminated the eyes of the King of Hell.

Only the last words rose from the ashes. "Farewell, my friend."

"friend?"

The Withered King lowered his eyes, looked down at the remaining wine in the cup, and shook his head: "Idiot, the emperor has no friends."

But even if the emperor has no friends, he may feel sorry for the death of his kind, right?

He was silent about this.

In the silence, Jiuqing was silent, crawling on the ground, unable to control his uneasiness and trembling, and did not dare to look up.

But for a long time, there was no expected anger. "White Snake." The Withered King called.

"I'm here."

The old priest walked forward and heard the emperor's order: "Prepare a funeral for him and do it on the scale of my life."

"yes."

Then, the Withered King bent down, picked up the wine glass that fell on the ground, placed it on the dry robe and ashes, and finally said goodbye:

"This thing is a contrast to you, so I'll give it to you."

Unfortunately, no one responded.

Only a wisp of rising ashes flew silently and fell into the cup.

In this way, the emperor turned around and left alone.

"Ah, I made a mistake."

In the afternoon, the chess player sighed regrets.

The Xuanniao, who was in deep thought, was slightly stunned, her eyes fell between the black and white staggered on the chessboard, and asked in confusion: "Aren't you still making a move?" "Yes."

Ye Xueya nodded and looked at him: "I mean you." Xuanniao was stunned.

When he focused on the chessboard again, he realized that the one he had made casually had made a mistake, just after more than twenty moves.

"Indeed, next...."

He reached out to get the chess piece back, but Ye Xueya's movements were fast and had already fallen

It's a white boy.

It completely blocked his idea of ​​regretting chess and was proud.

I smiled so happily, but I was harsh on my teacher. Now, it’s not more than twenty, but twelve.

But it doesn't matter, there is room for recovery.

Ye Xueya wants to take advantage of the victory, but it will inevitably come at a price. She is still a little bit contemptuous and lacks patience when dealing with an opponent like herself.

He straightened his body and left another son.

The proud opponent once again fell into long thoughts. He was still young.

But when he pondered again, he heard a sound that was so close to him.

"I'm distracted again, old man."

Xuanniao was silent for a moment and sighed helplessly, "It's indeed." "It's so rare. Don't you always say that you are sincere?" Ye Xueya smiled jokingly.

"It's enough to hit you if you are distracted."

Xuanniao took another move and added: "It's enough to hit you two." That's true.

After more than ten moves, the chessboard became chaotic again, and the direction was difficult to understand. Ye Xueya calculated to the end and grabbed a piece and threw it out, admitting defeat.

Old people are used to torture people.

Every time I ask her to play chess, I will deliberately guide the situation to this level, and then use my control over the general trend to suppress her resistance and constantly torture her.
To be continued...