The Great Tang: World Martial God

Tai Chi Palace.

Pieces of rice paper were scattered in the hall, spreading to the side of the hall.

At the huge case, Wang Wang was red, staring at the portrait of rice paper in a daze, startled.

The former majestic emperor is now completely dressed, and the figure leaning on the desk is particularly depressed.

Gently stroking the face on the portrait, the tears fell down, leaving a wet mark on the rice paper, fainting a little bit of ink.

The hoarse voice sounded like rubbing sandpaper slowly.

"Father, it was your father who killed you... You shouldn't have driven you out of the capital..."

"Should not go to the Southern Expedition...should not go to the land of Qianzhou..."

At the end of the voice, it was almost sobbing, like a father forgiving sin in front of the idol.

The footsteps came from far to near, leaning against the door of the temple, Tang Wang slightly wiped his tearful eyes, and he held his forehead, still in grief.

Amidst the music, a figure slowly walked into the hall and picked up the scattered paper one by one.

Before reaching the desk, the figure slowly stopped, and a sad voice rang out in the dryness.

"Your Majesty, life cannot be resurrected, take care of the dragon body."

After a long sigh of relief, King Tang calmed down his sadness slightly and raised his scarlet eyes.

"Tang Hao, sit down."

After that, Wang Wang slowly waved his hand, motioning Tang Hao to take his seat.

The next moment, he lowered his head again, rubbing the portrait in front of his eyes.

Tang Hao frowned slightly, slowly placed the portrait in his hand on the seat next to him, looking at the sad figure in the hall, his heart was extremely heavy.

Mother and son are connected, father and son are in nature.

Now that his shadow is gone, the loneliness caused by this kind of skin pain, grief can't be resolved in a word or two.

Tang Hao knew that so far the man who had supported Datang hadn't fallen, it was already supported by a thought in his heart.

Just imagine, watching the relatives leave one by one, staying alone in this huge palace, always wanting to be prosperous, but there is not even a relative who can speak.

How can ordinary people tolerate this feeling?

Perhaps in ordinary people, you can have the comfort of relatives and friends, you can walk the streets and alleys, wandering in this world. Perhaps like the Horizon Rover, a sword and a pot of wine, free and easy heart, home from all corners of the world.

However, the King of Tang was different. He carried on his shoulders the safety of the people of Datang, the prying eyes of four powerful enemies, and the dream of rejuvenating Datang.

He can only hold his teeth tightly and hold on.

Perhaps in countless dreams, he will be awakened by his wife separated by yin and yang. Perhaps he recalled the voice and appearance of the Taishang's severe teaching, or perhaps he was awakened by the helpless eyes of his deceased child.

For some reason, Tang Hao looked at that tall figure, with a touch of compassion in his heart.

Between the chaotic thoughts, Wang Wang gently picked up the picture scroll in front of him and muttered.

"Gan'er is a sensible child. As far as I can remember, I will let the teacher follow me..."

"At that time, I saw him very few opportunities... when he left, he always held my legs and asked when I would come again... to play with him."

"Perhaps I was too harsh on him... Other princes can play and play, but he can only practice with various scrolls, just because he is my eldest son, the future Emperor of Tang Dynasty..."

Talking about this place, the king of Tang lifted the corner of his sleeve and wiped his flushed eye sockets, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Slowly put down the portrait in his hand, Tang Wang continued.

"A harsh childhood, unfortunate leg problems, exile in the barren Qianzhou... Gan'er's life seems to have never had a good day."

Hearing this deep self-blame from a father, Tang Hao couldn't bear it, frowned and said slowly.

"One life, one fall of the grass and trees, come like wind and rain, go like dust, your Majesty need not blame yourself."

"I once heard a Taoist monk teaches that the suffering in this life is for the success of the next life. Perhaps in the Western bliss, he will be happy if he inherits Qian Qian."

Hearing Tang Hao's words, a bitter smile appeared on Wang Wang's face, which was very embarrassing.

"Everyone understands the truth in this world, but how can someone truly understand?"

"When will Buddha help others, when can he save himself?"

Speaking of this, Tang Wang's figure trembled, his face flushed, and he coughed violently.

Looking at Wang Wang who seemed to be unable to stop coughing, Tang Hao slowly got up, a worrisome flash on his face.

"His Majesty."

He took a step forward before speaking, and wanted to help the figure sitting in front of the point.

Wang Wang covered his mouth and nose, waved his hands repeatedly, and coughed for a while before he stopped.

After breathing for a moment, he said quietly.

"It's not in the way."

"My body, I have a sense of measure."

"It's just that these many changes are pressing on my heart, as if this heart is pressing on a huge boulder of gold, and it is stuffy and panic!"

Physical illness is good, but heart disease is hard to get rid of.

It is not easy to untie a person's heart knot.

Just like this king of Tang, there are imperial changes inside and the great dream of reunification of the Tang Dynasty outside, both of which are crushed by the two mountains in the heart of the king of Tang.

When the person has passed away, this grief will naturally gradually fade with the precipitation of time.

But this big Tang's rival was just one elimination.

The unification of the big dream, victory over the King of Qin and the Emperor of Han, this is where the Tang King's heart lies.