The 220th Festival is a recipe for disaster
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Linyuan, Imperial Garden.
The snowflakes are flying, like willow catkins dancing, floating. The initial snow is still slow, but when the north wind blows, it slowly becomes tighter.
The catkins turned into goose feathers and scattered down one after another. The roof of the palace, the walls, and the branches were all covered with white space.
The jade trees and branches are covered with silver, and the heavy snow makes up the magnificent scenery of nature.
Compared with the overwhelming snow, those artificially decorated red flowers and green flowers - Piaoqi - came over leisurely and wanted to touch the woman, "Where is the one who is the little lady..."
Xiao Buyi sighed, "Drinking is not pure, you can leave him."
The brothers had been waiting for this sentence for a long time. After hearing this, Asu Zhou Muru stepped forward and twisted the drunkard's arm. Without waiting for the drunkard to resist, he opened the window and threw him down.
A loud bang came, mixed with the screams of the drunkard. Xiao Buyi continued to drink and murmured to himself: "The world is pure now."
Chapter completed!