Qingzhi's whole body seemed to be frozen. It took a long time before she came back to her senses and seemed to understand something. With red eyes filled with tears, she slowly raised her head from her knees. In the dark night , Wen Jian stood alone on the shooting range, holding a bow in his hand, his slender fingers soaked with blood. When the cold wind blew, his black hair was tossed wildly, but his eyes were staring deeply and sharply at the target in the distance.
At that moment, Wen Jian seemed to be no longer just Wen Jian.
He seemed to be stronger and more courageous than Wen Jian before.
That kind of strong determination is not something that comes and goes, but is more like a kind of tempering, tempering from the inside out.
Qingzhi stared blankly at Wen Jian for a while, then blankly looked in the direction of the bull's eye...
Under the dim firelight, an arrow hit the bull's-eye majestically.
Qingzhi looked at the arrow and felt sour in her heart.
She wanted to suppress the surge of emotions, but she still couldn't. Looking at Wen Jian, tears fell in confusion. Finally, she couldn't bear it anymore, got up, ran over, and threw herself into Wen Jian's arms.
Wen Jian stood upright and straight, without saying a word. She just slowly put her strong hand on Qingzhi's back, lowered her head and leaned against her neck, finally able to breathe slowly and slowly. .
Qingzhi didn't even care if there was anyone else on the shooting range. She hugged Wen Jian tightly and choked with sobs, saying that Brother Jian was a fool...
Wen Jian slowly tightened his strength, pressed the back of her neck, and rubbed her ears and temples, her voice was hoarse, "I'm sorry, Xiao Qingzhi... I will never drink again in the future, can you forgive me?"
Qingzhi cried in his arms and nodded, hugging his waist tightly.
The two hugged in the wind for a long time. In the end, Qingzhi sneezed first, which made Wen Jian react, put down the bow and arrow in his hand, and wanted to take Qingzhi away.
But Qingzhi rubbed her eyes and wiped away tears while thinking that it was not appropriate to go back anywhere in the middle of the night, so she asked Wen Jian to follow her to her tent.
Qingzhi went to the military doctor and asked for a bottle of ointment. Then she returned to the tent, sat down, and asked Wen Jian to show her his hand.
Wen Jian frowned and said it was okay, but did not dare to show it to her.
Qingzhi stared at him with her big eyes without saying a word.
Wen Jian was scared when she looked at her twice, so she honestly stretched out her hand.
Qingzhi glared at him again: "Two hands."
Wen Jian had no choice but to put her other hand on the table.
Qingzhi then reached out and gently held one of his hands. Wen Jian's hands were very beautiful, especially when holding a pen. That posture was when Qingzhi felt the most charming. She had always felt that Wen Jian's hand was very beautiful. His hands were the part of his body that fascinated her the most.
But now this hand, due to the long period of holding the bow, has peeled off the skin, bleeds, and is red and swollen. No matter how you look at it, it makes people feel extremely distressed.
Qingzhi herself was soft-tempered. Seeing Wen Jian's hand injured like this, she became confused and blamed her father. She couldn't help but choke in a low voice: "Dad is too cruel..."
"I once heard my father say that Uncle Sheng is a hero who will always stand on the front line for the North. Such a person is always worthy of my respect. Uncle Sheng himself has suffered countless injuries on the battlefield. I am injured. It doesn't matter." Wen Jian looked like she didn't take her injury seriously.