(PS: These chapters took too much time, requiring careful thought. Sorry, brothers, this chapter still has a thousand words, everyone refresh around one o'clock!)
——
Zhao Rong sometimes thought he had a good temper.
And sometimes, it wasn't good at all.
Under Qin Jianfu's pursuit, he once fled with a death wish.
He once worried whether Qin Jianfu would give up and not chase him, but instead go after little Qian'er a thousand miles away.
He once believed he could never leave that deep, dark, seemingly endless tomb passage, thinking he might end up buried in the Imperial Mausoleum.
He once thought how wonderful it would be if he could see Qing Jun and little Qian'er one last time before dying.
He once worried about his wife outside who might be anxiously waiting, no longer lingering in that dream woven by a transparent woman...
And the result?
