From morning till now, she has been playing for a whole day, not a drop of water has passed her lips, and not a moment's rest, her delicate skin has long been chafed by the strings.
Ten fingers connected to the heart, each pluck of the strings is like a knife cutting pain.
But as long as that Lord does not speak, she cannot stop.
Below the stage.
A group of young noblemen in brocade clothes were exchanging their cups.
At a glance, all of them are notable second-generation officials in the city, starting from families of high-ranking fourth-rank officials, among them is Yan Linghu, son of the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice.
With a brocade robe woven with gold, pale face, and no beard, Heir Chu sat in the head seat, holding a goblet, his face somewhat sullen.
Zi Yan'er has disappeared.
A few days ago in the West Desolate Mountain, they set a trap intending to strike at Ling Ningzhi, all preparations were in order, the fish had already taken the bait.
