Chapter 92 Portrait "I couldn't help it, please forgive me."...

Shen Changfeng glanced at the signature, which read: In the early summer of the Guimao year, the young prince of Dingbei took this portrait, he was eight years old at the time.

It's him.

He opened the remaining envelopes, which also contained portraits of himself from different periods of time, one for each year, for a total of sixteen. The last one was a picture of him expressing gratitude for the marriage he had been granted. He caught sight of the slender, blurry silhouette of a woman in the crowd. His fingertips gently stroked her white face, and his eyes gradually softened.

Qingsong didn't dare to look up, ready to face the anger of the person above him. He didn't know how to plead with Chenyue - the signature was obviously from Chenyue's hand.

Qingsong is Shen Changfeng's playmate, while Chenyue is his serious study partner. He studies and practices martial arts with Shen Changfeng. He not only takes care of Shen Changfeng's chores, but also takes the responsibility of correcting his words and deeds.

Qingsong knew that Shen Changfeng trusted Chen Yue deeply, but for some reason, their relationship had taken a sharp turn for the worse. Back then, when Shen Changfeng left the palace, it was precisely because he wanted to get rid of Chen Yue that he stayed in a shady inn and nearly lost his life. Even when Chen Yue followed him to Jingzhou, Shen Changfeng didn't give him a good look.

Seeing the signature on the portrait, Qingsong had a clearer idea: Chen Yue was probably a spy planted by Li Jieyi or Shen Zhongda around Shen Changfeng. Shen Changfeng's every move was under his watch. Given that Chang Yuan had once worked for Li Jieyi, the former was more likely. This had truly touched Shen Changfeng's sore spot.

But why did Chen Yue send these portraits to Chang Yuan? Sixteen in total, which means Chen Yue had been sending them out the year he arrived at the palace. It's really strange that a grown man would collect portraits of another man for so many years. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.

Qingsong was puzzled and glanced at Shen Changfeng secretly, but was surprised to find that he showed no signs of anger. He stared at the painting spread out on the table, as if in a trance.

It was not until Qingsong asked what to do that Shen Changfeng shifted his gaze away from a certain painting.

Shen Changfeng had heard that there was no midwife by Li Jieyi's side when she gave birth, and now he seemed to know who helped her give birth.

He still remembered the day when the Jade Lion of Zhaoye disappeared. Chang Yuan saw the bloody scene in the yard and almost collapsed to the ground. Now he finally understood why Chang Yuan retired from the army in his prime.

After returning from the sea that year, Chang Yuan developed a strange disease of being frightened by the sight of blood. His condition was aggravated after his wife's miscarriage. For a soldier, this was undoubtedly a devastating blow.

So, did Chang Yuan treat him like his own son? That's why he asked for these portraits every year? That's why he was so delighted when he drank the porridge he cooked? But Shen Changfeng always felt that something was wrong.

Shen Changfeng put aside all his speculations, put the small paintings back into the envelope and handed it to Qingsong, then said thoughtfully, "Get a doctor for him, don't let him die... Keep him, he still has some use."

Qingsong breathed a sigh of relief. Chang Yuan often sent food and vegetables to the garrison, but Shen Changfeng naturally refused to eat them. He always got the better of them. He was always soft-hearted, and after eating too much, he always felt guilty if he didn't help the dying person, so he agreed.

Shen Changfeng wrote a few more words, and as if he had realized something, his voice suddenly softened: "Tell those people not to come up, wait for my order and then make arrangements."

Qingsong nodded, thinking that Chen Changfeng had only rested for an hour or so yesterday, and he should be catching up on his sleep now.

Shen Changfeng twirled the pen without moving, his face slightly tilted, as if trying to discern some subtle sound. He lowered his eyes and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth that he couldn't hide. His voice was very soft and low, "She fell asleep."

Qingsong suddenly understood why Shen Changfeng was so easy to talk to today.

Shen Changfeng walked quietly into the room, bent over to pick up the round fan beside the couch, and used his broad back to block the sunset rays that slanted in through the window for her. The outline of his shadow gradually softened, like a thin edge of fur, and he lay obediently beside the couch, resting his head gently beside her hand.

He quietly studied her sleeping face, his eyes tracing her eyebrows over and over again, gently nuzzling the tip of her nose, and kissing her lips. He reached out several times to touch the side of her face, to gently hold her fingertips, but withdrew just as he was about to touch her.

He couldn't bear to disturb her dream, nor did he want to ruin the warmth they were feeling at this moment. This was enough, he was already content with her being by his side like this.

He felt that after she came to Jingzhou, her eyebrows and eyes had become thinner and lighter, and the slightly concave curve of her cheeks had now become slightly rounder. Her skin was healthy and rosy, and her black hair also had a soft, shiny black luster.

Shen Changfeng fanned her with one hand and supported his chin with the other, staring at her face intently, not wanting to blink, thinking: She seems more beautiful than before.

No, she was even more beautiful. There was no more beautiful young lady in the whole town.

She is the most beautiful, the most beautiful in the entire Central Plains.

Such a good and beautiful woman is Shen Changfeng's wife.

The corners of Shen Changfeng's mouth just curled up, but soon fell again. It should be said that she was once his wife.

He felt a little depressed and irritated, but he soon came to his senses. He thought that now was a good opportunity and he could still make amends.

He knew that if he rashly made some unreasonable requests, Lin Meizhu would definitely reject him righteously and sternly, and she would definitely think he was taking advantage of her misfortune, and at that time, their relationship would definitely deteriorate. So he just made a very simple request, asking her to cook an extra meal for him, using this as an excuse to spend time with her.

But he also made a mistake. What he said was that during the time in the city, Lin Meiju would come to the attic to find him, not just to find Xiaoman.

He felt that God was helping him. He felt that she was no longer as resistant to him as before. Given time, he would be able to win her heart back.

Thinking back to the painting he had just seen, he couldn't help but feel regret and remorse. When the marriage was granted and he thanked the emperor, all kinds of people offered false flattery and congratulations. Lin Qianzu was overjoyed, Wang Shi frowned slightly, and where was Lin Meizhu? She was almost drowned in the crowd, but she seemed to be oblivious to the clamor in the room. She was secretly watching his profile.

That glance was filled with a bit of panic, shyness, and timidity - she was expecting him to look back, but was also worried about how she would react if he did.

But he didn't notice these details at all at that time. He passed by Lin Meiju without saying a word, strode away with a sour face, leaving her alone to face the cold eyes and sarcasm of those people.

But apart from mentioning the situation at a palace banquet when she was defending herself on her wedding night, she never complained to anyone else.

Recalling her pitiful, cowering expression as she confessed this, Shen Changfeng's fanning slowed, his gaze settling on the back of Lin Meizhu's fair hand. Because of its whiteness, the purple veins on her hand stood out clearly. He knew they were marks left by frequent exertion. In ordinary families, boys and girls alike were expected to help with the household expenses from a young age. She must have done a lot of odd jobs outside the home.

Shen Changfeng suddenly felt a little down, his gaze fixed on the thin, almost unbroken white scar on her palm, following his memory. He had once asked her about the scar, and she had casually explained it as a result of a mischievous fall as a child. But upon closer inspection today, the scars were of similar length and evenly spaced, making them impossible to be caused by a bump or bruise.

Shen Changfeng suddenly had an epiphany, and a voice rang out in his mind: The Lin family beat her!

He finally understood where her habit of unconsciously twisting her fingers when she was nervous came from.

He finally understood what she had meant when she'd said at the Lantern Festival that she was treating him like a lifeline. She didn't dare reveal any doubt or dissatisfaction about the marriage, because she was afraid of being beaten. The Lin family had forcibly turned her slight affection for him into pure joy.

She had suffered so much, but he had no idea.

He kept saying that he loved her, but it seemed that he didn't even know what she liked, hated, or had experienced.

Guilt, deep guilt weighed down on him. The huge sense of indebtedness made him unable to stand up straight, and his shadow on the ground curled up in pain.

His gaze returned to the person on the couch, and he gradually leaned forward, placed his hand close to her forehead, and with tears in his eyes, he gently placed a kiss on her. This kiss was not born out of lust, but more like a solemn promise, with an inviolable piety and a rock-hard determination.

He fanned gently until the person on the wooden couch relaxed his brow and fell into a sound sleep. Then he leaned over, picked him up, and walked towards the big bed in the inner room.

It’s so hot.

Lin Meizhu felt a tinge of sweat on her chest and back, her body sticky and sticky. She couldn't help but sigh, "This summer is really hot. It feels like there's a stove burning next to you."

She reached out to the side to find her Bamboo Lady, and she touched a living, scalding stove.

Shen Changfeng was woken up by her pinch. He endured the itch on his waist and leaned towards her with his arm as his head rested on it. His voice was still hoarse from just waking up, and he laughed softly, "Awake?"

Lin Meizhu propped up her elbow against him, remaining calm, and asked, "Why?"

Although this sentence was only two words long, Shen Changfeng heard many meanings in it, such as why didn't you wake me up after discussing things? Why was I lying in your bed? And why did you lie in bed with me?

Shen Changfeng's answer was also very concise, and he said shamelessly: "I couldn't help it, please forgive me."

There are many messages hidden in this: I saw you were sleeping restlessly and couldn't help but carry you to bed, I was afraid you'd feel cold and couldn't help but lie down next to you just in case. In short, there are reasons for this! Please understand my painstaking efforts.

Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me for what I have!

The thin veil suddenly fluttered, and Shen Changfeng bounced to the ground. He stumbled twice before regaining his footing. With lingering fear and a mixture of laughter and tears, he said, "My dear, you can't kick around in this position!"

Lin Meizhu sat up with a stern face, quickly tidied her hair, straightened her clothes, walked out, and was about to go downstairs with the lunch box.

Shen Changfeng uttered a soft "Ah" and said, "I wanted to talk to you about the subsequent arrangements for finding someone."

Lin Meizhu paused. Shen Changfeng poured her a cup of tea and said seriously, "It won't take long."