20demayo Chapter 372 The young man on the stream bank, what has become of him now?
Chapter 372 The young man on the stream bank, what has become of him now?
Zhen Xiaosi's gaze swept over these legendary faces, and she couldn't help but mutter to herself:
Are these heroes in the paintings really more handsome and extraordinary than my two fathers (Emperor Gaozong and Empress Wu)?
Each painting silently proclaims: "The owner of this place inherits the most illustrious bloodline and destiny in this glorious history!"
Before this mural, which embodies the spirit of emperors and generals throughout history, stands a figure with his hands behind his back.
If it's not Zi'an, then who is it?
At this moment, he was no longer the smug young man by the stream who proudly proclaimed his "precociousness."
He was dressed in a black robe embroidered with the twelve imperial symbols in gold thread (not a formal crown robe, but the twelve symbols symbolize the supreme power of the emperor). His posture was as upright as a pine tree, and even just his still back view exuded a calm and dignified aura.
The brilliant lights inside the hall fell upon him, giving him a divine aura.
"Oh, Brother Zian!" Zhen Xiaosi called out subconsciously, her voice carrying a hint of joy that she herself was unaware of.
The moment the words left her mouth, she froze.
This voice... clear and melodious, like pearls falling on a jade plate, carrying the unique innocence of a young girl and a hint of budding charm, completely different from her hoarse childlike voice from staying up late during the day!
She subconsciously looked down at herself—she had somehow changed into a flowing, gold-embroidered gown with cloud and phoenix patterns, which accentuated her slender, graceful figure.
With her slender fingers and fair wrists, where is the "Zhen Xiaosi" who used to bury herself in books and was unkempt?
"What... what's going on here?" Zhen Xiaosi was inwardly shocked. "Brother Zian called me... 'Mei Xiaosi'? 'Did you laugh to death?!' This name... is so funny I can't live without laughing!" She tried hard to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly involuntarily.
At that moment, the figure in front of the mural slowly turned around.
When that face came into full view of Zhen Xiaosi, her breath caught in her throat!
The Zian before me still had a handsome face, but all the immaturity and frivolity of youth had faded away.
His brows exuded a calm composure and unfathomable majesty, as if he had perfectly fused together the wisdom of all the emperors in the murals, the sharpness of all the famous generals, and the profundity of all the sages.
His nose was high and straight, his lips were sculpted, and his eyes were especially deep, like a cold pool or an ancient well. As his gaze moved, it seemed as if there were stars shining and disappearing, and the birth and death of all things were in his eyes.
This is no longer earthly beauty, but a perfect masterpiece belonging to the divine creator, radiating a breathtaking divine brilliance.
He walked towards Zhen Xiaosi—or rather, "Mei Xiaosi"—with steady steps, each step landing on a point where time and space were intertwined.
That invisible imperial pressure, mixed with an irresistible, otherworldly masculine charm, surged in like a tangible tide, causing Zhen Xiaosi's heart to pound erratically, like a drumbeat pounding against her chest.
She had to admit to herself that the captivating charm of Zi'an, who had transformed into an emperor, was far beyond that of the boy who used to wear a fake prince mask and acted somewhat "sleazy" in the palace!
The night was as dark as ink, and the carriages glittered.
Zi'an personally drove the blue-curtained carriage of the rhinoceros, quietly blending into the night of the ancient city of Hailar.
The city walls, built of blue bricks, gleamed with a warm and profound light under the flickering lamplight, resembling a lurking giant beast.
A strange, sweet fragrance mixed with the distinctive scent of leather wafted from a shop on the street, prompting Sizi to take a sniff.
“Young master,” she lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, her eyes sparkling, “the atmosphere of this city is quite different from that of the foreign merchants who gather in the West Market of Chang’an.”
The brick walls were ancient and rustic, the lights were dim, and the smell wafting from the leather tanning workshop... was actually the aroma of milk?
Compared to the legendary ancient city of Lishui in Nanzhao, it seems to have less of the bustling, romantic atmosphere and more of... the warmth of a kitchen?