The Seventh Miss, Di

Ye Liuli lowered her head to look at her fiery red wedding dress, then glanced at the ancient and elegant buildings around her. For the first time in her life, she had a suicidal urge, "Transmigrating... could it be transmigration Damn it, I'm a staunch materialist and a successor of socialism! So many people want to transmigrate, don't let me transmigrate!","Well, we can't consummate the marriage, nor can we interfere with His Royal Highness' wedding night." Sun Dachzhu, the captain of the guards, was a straightforward man.,"The King, of course, is good. It's just that he's tired," her voice was soft, but crisp like a yellow oriole singing, tender and gentle, "Since the King is asleep, let's discuss anything else tomorrow."。