"I'll ask Old Zhang from the cookhouse to save you a chicken tomorrow, and we'll stew it to nourish you," he said. "Look how angry you are today, your face is all white."
"He's not that fragile." Yun Tangyin looked at his serious profile in the mirror and suddenly felt a lump in her throat.
Back in the Yun family, Yun Zhixiong always said she was the apple of his eye, but when things really got tough, she had to shoulder everything herself.
Only after marrying Fu Yucheng did she realize what it felt like to be cherished and loved.
"You have to be a little pampered with me." Fu Yucheng tied her braid and kissed the end of her hair. "Otherwise, what use am I as her husband?"
Yun Tangyin turned around, stood on tiptoe, hugged his neck, and kissed him on the lips: "It's useful. I feel at ease knowing you're alive."
Fu Yucheng's heart clenched, and he hugged her even tighter.
He thought of the hail of bullets on the battlefield, and of his comrades who were forever left in foreign lands. Suddenly, he felt that being able to come back alive and hold the person in front of him was the greatest luck of his life.
"I will live on." He whispered in her ear, his voice firm and unwavering. "I will live until my hair turns white and my teeth fall out, and I will still be able to braid your hair."
Yun Tangyin's tears fell and landed on his clothes: "Mmm."
The setting sun outside the window gradually sank, casting long shadows of the two people that overlapped, like a painting that could never be separated.
The aroma of dinner wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the scent of locust blossoms in the evening breeze, lingering gently under the eaves.
The farce involving Jiang Zhicheng and Xu Runli passed by like a gust of wind, leaving almost no trace in Yun Tangyin's heart.
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