The two children walked away hand in hand, side by side, whispering something as they walked.

The voice was too soft and he walked too far away, so Zong Zhengchen didn't hear it.

However, he was relieved about these two children.

They have been sensible and hardworking since they were young. They are proficient in medicine, martial arts, calligraphy, painting, and swordplay. They work hard all night long and never shed a tear even if they bleed.

Three days later, after taking Shanhaiguan, we will be able to advance all the way to the imperial capital of Nanyuan and capture Nanyuan in one fell swoop.

Four years.

He has been waiting for this day for four years.

Qin Ye, where are you?

The man slowly lowered his eyes and picked up a well-preserved letter between the pages of a book. The traces of ink on the letter paper were a little scattered.

This is a letter from three years ago.

There is no signature on it. It was sent by that unknown person.

Over the past few years, he has been writing back letters, wanting to know the man's name, purpose, and the reward for helping him, but the letters he sent fell on deaf ears, and he has not received any reply in three years.

Looking at the familiar handwriting between the lines, he stared at it with a heavy gaze, not knowing what he was thinking...

.

“Cough… cough cough…”

Under the tree, on the stone table, in the sunshine, a man in white clothes reading a book, as gentle as jade, as beautiful as a painting.

Qin Ye sat on the steps, set up his drawing board, and painted this scene.

After finishing the painting, I noticed that the man was coughing from time to time, and his face was a little pale. I put down the pen and walked over:

"Brother, are you feeling unwell?"

She wanted to feel his pulse.

But Ling Yixing avoided it.

"It's autumn now and the temperature has dropped a bit. Maybe I caught a cold last night... cough cough, it's okay." He rubbed Qin Ye's head and smiled very gently.

At that moment, the sunlight shone on his face, making his skin look very white, and his eyes were sparkling, as if there were thousands of crushed stars in them, which were comparable to all the beauty in the world.

"elder brother……"

She couldn't help but hug his elbow, "Brother, I am really happy. I have the best brother in the world."

Even though I am in a different world, I do feel a sense of belonging to home.

This unique warmth was given by Ling Yixing.

"Silly girl, look at your painting."

"Yeah, okay!"

Qin Ye trotted to the steps, picked up the drawing board, took down the drawing paper, and ran back, "Look!"

On the drawing paper, a man in white is sitting at a stone table. The sun is warm, the breeze is not dry, and a few yellow leaves are floating in the air. He lowers his eyes to read a book. The atmosphere is harmonious and beautiful.

The years are quiet and good.

Nothing more than this.

Ling Yixing looked at the painting, stroking it with his fingertips, with a faint smile on his lips:

“It’s a really nice painting.”

His eyes were heavy, and he murmured, "It's great..."

"I haven't colored it yet. I'll color it after the ink dries. It might look better. But brother, you're already 31, why don't you get married? You don't want to be alone forever, do you?"

"If you let the Ling family be cut off, how will you face your parents in the future?"

Ling Yixing smiled but said nothing.

Qin Ye was helpless.

In the past three years, she had said all kinds of good and bad things about him, but it was no use. He avoided women like they were a flood or a beast, let alone getting married.

Maybe it's fate that hasn't arrived yet?

"Ai Ai, help me get the paint, I want to color it."

Ai Ai responded, "Hey, Princess, I'll go to the study to move it."

"Is it a lot? Let me move it with you!"

"It's okay, Princess. Just let me do this little thing."

"It's okay, I'll go with you."

The master and servant laughed and ran to the study to get paint.

Ling Yixing smiled at Qin Ye's back, lively and cheerful, carefree, outspoken and cheerful, vaguely the same as the little girl in her memory.

Even though she is twenty years old, she is still a child in his eyes.

But as he was laughing, his expression changed and he kept coughing, "Cough... cough cough..."

The corners of my eyes were red from coughing, soaked with wet tears:

“Ahem!”

Half a minute later, he finally managed to steady his breath and pushed aside the clothes on his chest. He saw a black line on his fair chest skin, which was approaching his heart.

“Cough, cough, cough…”