"It sounds good," Xie Lun stroked the man's hard chest, pressed his face against it, and whispered, "Zhao Jingting, I can understand your heart."
"Then what did Allen hear?" Zhao Jingting rubbed his hair, his voice was too soft to be true.
"I heard it," Sherron whispered against his chest, word by word. "It's saying that you miss me very much. It also said that you kept me here."
The next second, Zhao Jingting held Xie Lun's face and kissed it.
A gentle kiss, without any impurities, only longing, only warmth. Both of them felt warm and warm from head to toe.
"Alan, this heart can not only speak, but it can also write." After a long time, Zhao Jingting let go of Xie Lun. He opened his front, revealing his strong chest, and said softly to Xie Lun, "Alan , look at it.”
Xie Lun's heart stopped beating immediately. There were two words tattooed on his strong and strong bronze chest -
Sherron.
Xie Lun's fingers trembled as he traced those two strong and round words over and over again.
"Does it hurt?" He asked Zhao Jingting with his head raised, tears streaming down his face.
"It doesn't hurt." Zhao Jingting kissed his tears, and her heart almost melted. "Compared to seeing Allen cry, this is nothing."
Xie Lun laughed through tears, wiped his face, leaned on Zhao Jingting's chest, stroked the tattoo, and asked softly: "When did you get the tattoo?"
"On New Year's Eve," Zhao Jingting pressed her forehead against Xie Lun's, "I can't stand thinking about you so much that I want to carve you into my heart."
"You idiot, it hurts to look at you. I will never let you spend New Year's Eve alone again." Xie Lun turned his face sideways and pressed his red lips gently against Zhao Jingting's chest.
~~~~~~~~~
The second day of April in the 28th year of Jiasheng
Qingming is an important festival in Dali. Everyone from the royal family to the untouchables must pay homage to their ancestors and sweep their tombs. Therefore, according to the ancestral system of the Dali Dynasty, the Qingming court has three days of rest.
Lu Zhishan was very busy these days and didn't have much time to accompany Mu Nanzhi, so he took advantage of these three days to take Mu Nanzhi to stay at Xihuai Villa, which was considered an outing.
"Cousin, do we want to go see Zhu Shuangquan?" After going to the river in the morning to fold willow sticks and coming back, the two of them had lunch in the side hall. Mu Nanzhi asked Lu Zhishan, "I kind of want to go see him." Look at him, he's so pitiful."
Lu Zhishan gave her a piece of Qingtuan with chopsticks and went over: "If my daughter wants to go there, let's go there. It just so happens that we can also go and pay homage to their girl."
"Alas! I've just reached haircut." When Mu Nanzhi thought of the girl who died tragically, he immediately lost his appetite. He put down the bowl and chopsticks in his hand and leaned into Lu Zhishan's arms, "Cousin, Nanjiang People are really pitiful.”
"Yes, in the past, when there was war in Southern Xinjiang, the people in Southern Xinjiang were the most pitiful. After the war was defeated, the people in Southern Xinjiang were even more pitiful." Lu Zhishan also threw away the bowl and chopsticks and gently hugged Mu Nanzhi, "After the defeat of Hue, although Dali signed terms with Siam and Tibet, Siam and Tibet have always crossed the border and invaded southern Xinjiang from time to time in recent years. The people in southern Xinjiang are really afraid of being bullied, and most of them have moved their families. I I heard that many elderly people in southern Xinjiang are reluctant to leave their hometown, but they dare not continue to live in their former cottages. Some elderly people have moved into the mountains and slept in the open air, while some elderly people have lived directly in their ancestors' graves and dug a hole for themselves. Then he built a shack and lived by the pit waiting to die... "