Seeing this news, Xu Qianqiu smiled knowingly.

This kid is a first half a year earlier than he expected.

It seems that I have put in hard work and practiced hard.

.

.

At the same time, under the night.

Beiliang Palace, Tingchao Pavilion.

A cool mountain, without wind or rain.

In the dark and humid top floor, the Wushuang national scholar Li Yishang was at his desk, writing about the ups and downs of the struggles about the imperial power and ministers throughout the dynasties.

It has been written to this dynasty, and today I am Zi and Zhang Julu.

He shook his wrists and accidentally dripped a few drops of ink onto the rice paper.

Looking at the slowly soaked and gradually dispersed ink traces, the chief staff member of the royal palace who had lived in the attic for twenty years suddenly became disgusted.

He quickly covered his mouth, picked up the wine gourd around his feet, and swallowed the blood that had already flowed into his throat with a sip of green ant wine.

After putting down the wine pot, my vision was dizzy.
Chapter completed!