Watching Lingya rush towards him at incredible speed, Mo Shisheng remained calm, slowly stood up from the ground, and gently patted the dust and grass clippings off the corner of his clothes.
“Ming Beiya is my husband for all eternity, he is just my man.”
Mo Shisheng's lips curled slightly, a faint smile appearing on his face. But that smile only provoked Lingya more, and she roared like a madwoman, "Mo Shisheng, go to hell!"
...
Lingya's anger intensified, even more so than when she first heard Ming Beiya say that she was his wife!
Lingya didn't know how she managed to keep her expression unchanged, and even had a slight smile on her lips. "Brother Beiya? Congratulations, you've finally found her."
"Um."
Ming Beiya nodded slightly. "You rest first, I'll be going now."
"Um!"
Lingya nodded obediently, "You should go find her quickly. I still owe Beiya an apology and a thank you."
"Spirit Sprout".
Suddenly, the man's voice deepened, "She has amnesia. Her name is now Mo Shisheng. Don't talk about the past in front of her."
"Was it caused by that injury? Can I help you?"
Lingya's face paled slightly. She reached out and grabbed Ming Beiya's sleeve again. "I can help her, right? After all, I have her here..."
"It's getting late."
Before Lingya could finish speaking, Ming Beiya interrupted her with a slightly sullen face and turned to walk outside.
Watching Ming Beiya's departing figure, Lingya bit her lip slightly, her eyes clear and calm. The slight curve of her lips was almost imperceptible, carrying a hint of gloom.
Amnesia?
This is not good news.
Beiya, why are you back again?
Your life is truly as smelly and hard as a rock in a latrine.
Beiya, you shouldn't have come back in the first place. Now you've taken the place that originally belonged to her. You really deserve to die.
A faint glimmer of light flashed in Lingya's eyes, gone in an instant, too fast to be caught.
Didn't she lose her memory?
She will try to help her remember that memory, a memory that is truly unforgettable. Beiya, how could you forget it?
*
Mo Shisheng threw away her cloak, and Ming Beiya, worried that she would catch a cold, put his black cloak on the girl.
The man's large cloak draped over the girl's petite body, making her small face appear even more delicate and endearing.
Ming Beiya thought Mo Shisheng would throw his cloak away as well, but she didn't. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Does Asheng not like that cloak?"
Upon hearing this, the girl lazily opened her eyes, her gaze indifferent. "I never like using the same things as others."
"Same?"
A hint of confusion flashed across Ming Beiya's dark, jade-like eyes, then he remembered that Lingya's cloak also seemed to be white.
He immediately understood what Mo Shisheng meant, and a slight smile appeared on his lips. "Shall I make you a cloak myself?"
"good."
Mo Shisheng didn't mince words and readily agreed, "I only want something unique, Ming Beiya, can you make that?"
"I will only make one, and give it to Ah Sheng."
Ming Beiya reached out and ruffled Mo Shisheng's hair, then held her as they sat down at the long table. Qingluan immediately ladled out a bowl of millet porridge and handed it to them.
The man gently scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his lips, finding the temperature just right. Then he brought it to the girl's lips, saying, "It's not hot."
Mo Shisheng gently opened her small mouth and swallowed it. It was soft, sweet, and melted in her mouth, with a very good texture.
Ming Beiya fed him very slowly, which aroused Mo Shisheng's extreme dissatisfaction. She gently bit her lower lip and said, "Ming Beiya, hurry up."
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