Just then, a breeze blew gently, and there seemed to be a strange fragrance in the wind.

Some of the civil and military officials couldn't help but whisper: "It smells so good, what does it taste like?"

"Maybe some flowers are blooming. Now it's time for spring to be beautiful, with flowers and plants everywhere in the suburbs of the city, and it's not surprising that the fragrance breeze is floating."

"It should be like this. I just don't know what kind of flower this is. I will go and see it later and ask the servants to break some back to plant it."

...

While several officials were talking in a low voice, Di Xin, who was walking in front of everyone, suddenly shook his head and laughed: "This is not the fragrance of flowers! This is auspicious sign of the Empress coming here! Come and take the pen and ink!"

The civil and military officials looked at each other, a little confused.

However, the heavenly generals are not a strange thing. The king said that there is, there is.

No one dared to sweep his character, and soon someone came quickly with a tray, with pens and ink on it.

Seeing Di Xin picking up the pen and ink, Bigan suddenly felt uneasy in his heart for no reason, and he quickly persuaded: "Master, the fragrance has been completed, it's time to return to the palace."

"It is rare to rise today, so I will recommend a poem."

Emperor Xin picked up the pen and sucked the ink. He looked up at the statue of Nuwa in the hall, his eyes blurred, as if he was already wandering around.

Seeing this, Bigan frowned and took two steps forward, calling out in a deep voice: "Master! It's time to return to the palace!"

"No hurry, no hurry!"

Emperor Xin seemed to wake up from a dream, laughed and waved his hand, walked quickly to the wall, wrote a poem:

"The scenery of Fengluan Bao is very beautiful, all with mud and gold makeup.

The distant mountains fly green in color; the graceful dancing sleeves reflect the robe of the clouds.

The pear blossoms compete with the rain for beauty; the peony flowers are filled with smoke and charming makeup.

But Yaorao can act and get Changle to serve the king."

All the ministers changed their faces and shouted, "King!"

"Master, no!"

...

As the ministers dissuaded, Emperor Xin threw away the brush in his hand and laughed: "You guys, how do you think of this poem?"

Bigan said with a dark face: "King, this poem means blasphemy and has no pious sincerity. It is a crime against the sacred, not a courtesy of the emperor's patrol and prayer. He also asked the king to kneel down in front of the statue of the god and ask the empress to forgive."

Emperor Xin said unhappily: "I just admire Nuwa's beauty, how can I blaspheme it?"

He turned to look at Shang Rong and said, "Shang Aiqing, what do you think of me in this poem?"

Shang Rong bowed and bowed, and said solemnly: "I think what the emperor said is very true. Nuwa is the innate god and the blessed lord of Chaosong. The king came to burn incense and worship, prayed for blessings, so that all people can enjoy their careers, the rain will be good, and the war will be peaceful.

But now that His Majesty writes poems to blaspheme the saints, I am afraid that the Empress will bring down her boundless anger!”

Emperor Xin snorted coldly, shook his sleeves, turned around and walked outside, and the displeasure in his heart was clearly written on his face.

All the ministers in the temple looked at each other, with a faint look of horror on their faces.

Bigan hurriedly shouted: "Come here!"

Two teams of guards ran in and knelt down.

"Change this ink quickly."

The guards all looked at each other without any movement.

Bigan shouted angrily: "You can't go there yet?"

All the guards were trembling with fear.

One of the guards said carefully: "Sir Young Master, this is a written by the king. We dare not move without any action."

Bigan frowned, then rolled up her sleeves and shouted, "Take me water."

“Yes yes…”

The two teams of waiters nodded repeatedly, got up and bent over and ran outward, and soon came with a pot of clean water.

Bigan rolled up her sleeves and started cleaning it up, and she sighed endlessly.

Although he is a mortal, he also has a close relationship with many talented people and strangers in the court and understands many things about immortals and gods.

He knew very well that Nuwa was a saint in the vast world.

Whether it is immortal or ordinary, you must be respectful to the saints and not be disrespectful.

But now the king seemed to be confused. He ignored his dissuasion and wrote this poem, but he still didn't know what kind of disaster it would cause.

While he was worried, he suddenly heard a loud "rumbling" sound, which made his eardrums hurt so hard that he could not hear any sounds around him.

He suddenly had a bad premonition in his heart. He didn't care about cleaning the ink traces on the wall anymore. He panicked and rushed out, but he happened to see people outside stumbled on their backs and messy.

It was not until this time that he could barely hear some sounds in his ears.

Accompanied by the screams of horror and the neighing of the war horses, he heard a cry that made him feel heartbroken.
Chapter completed!