Chapter 009: The Courtyard Flower, Ten Years of Secrets, Ten Years of Lanterns (3).

"No!" Biluo's face darkened as she answered somewhat stiffly. She felt that the person was making unfounded guesses, not only being presumptuous and rude, but also causing a sudden and sharp pain in her heart like a thorn.

She smiled gently, and a touch of watery tenderness unconsciously appeared at the corner of her lips.

Yang Dingyang raised his eyebrows and smiled, "I suppose so! My adoptive father, Gao Gai, was entrusted by the Chief Historian to have a conversation with Young Master Murong!"

Lost in thought for a moment, Bi Luo quickly shouted and asked, "Who are you?"

Clear clapping sounds, accompanied by a few hearty praises, suddenly reached the ears.

With this thought in mind, Biluo's complexion and tension eased, and she slowly moved the gleaming sword away from Yang Ding's face. She asked, "Are you our young master's guest?"

His eyes curved into a smile, like a crescent moon: "And such a beautiful girl! Are you the sister of Governor Murong?"

Good! Good swordsmanship!

Chou Chi ?

It turns out that he is the adopted son of Gao Gai, the envoy sent by the Northern Regional Chief Secretary Murong Hong.

The state of Quchi in Longxi, in the second year after being destroyed by the state of Yan, was also annihilated by the state of Qin. Quchi became the Quchi County under the rule of the state of Qin, and the Quchi nobles and their followers were also relocated to live in Guanzhong by the King of Qin.

Can accompany Murong Chong's side, in the future, the person who will charge into battle and face life and death together with him, should be like her.

The king of Chouchi on that day was surnamed Yang.

The translation in XML format: With a sigh, Biluo Song sheathed his sword, bowed and smiled, saying, "Let me take Yang Gongzi to the guest room to rest!"

Moreover, Mu Rongchong's future is bound to be related to war and fighting, sacrifice and bloodshed are inevitable. For example, Shi Jiangzhu and even herself should pave the way for Mu Rongchong, even if it means sacrificing their own lives. If one has exceptional skills that can help Mu Rongchong, then they should seize the opportunity.

The young man smiled and bowed slightly, saying, "I am Yang Ding from Chouchi."

Leaving aside the frightening future, at the agile movement of the Bi Luo sword shadow, the silver laurel dances like snow, and when Yanran dances lightly, a large amount of mercury-like bright light spills over the sky. Under the short cyan skirt, it flows lightly and reflects the large blood-red maple leaves behind her. It seems to attract the morning light that has just emerged, shaking off the fragrant beauty of the original life, overflowing with colorful light. Compared to the swordsmanship of men, it has added more flexibility and composure.

Start of Translation Start of TranslationBlue sky was startled, the sword edge slightly turned, reflecting a bright flow of light, turning towards her own face, and shining on the face of the young man standing leisurely opposite her.

The man appeared to be very young, seemingly in his early twenties. He wore a long robe in apricot yellow, with wide sleeves, resembling the attire of the Southern Jin Kingdom. His handsome features and lazy yet refreshing smile were accompanied by a hint of curiosity. Leaning against a locust tree, he observed the surroundings with great interest. Suddenly, he noticed a glimmer of vigilance in the sword light of the surroundings. The smile on his lips lifted even higher, revealing a bright and transparent expression that momentarily overshadowed the brilliance of the sword light in the surroundings.

Pa! Pa! Pa!

Upon closer examination, although the Yang family of Chouchi shares the noble surname of the Di tribe with the current Fu family of Daqin, they should now stand united with the Xianbei Murong family against a common enemy.

Yang Ding shook his head and said, "I'm not bored staying in the house! Such good weather! Such good swordsmanship!"

After a set of sword dance, red maple leaves, silver osmanthus, like butterflies and snow, still leisurely falling, swaying with the wind; amidst the fluttering red and white, a petite figure in cyan stands as steady as a rock, with green hair flying in front of the forehead, a hint of confidence and even pride flashes through the pitch-black eyes, gradually revealing a sunny and beautiful complexion without the need for makeup.