The person who came was wearing shoes with three layers of soles and walked lightly, but the familiar sense of urgency was hard to conceal.
Sure enough, the next second, Dujuan's voice rang out through the quilt.
"Are you pretending to be asleep? Are you bored?"
Xiao Nan couldn't go back and decided to continue pretending to be dead.
"What happened to you yesterday? The Marquis rarely had time to accompany you, and everyone was having a great time, but you got angry."
Xiao Nanhui buried his face in the quilt and put his hands under the pillow, feeling a little uncomfortable.
She still hid Pingxian under her pillow, afraid of seeing it every day, yet also afraid of not seeing it.
After a while, she finally spoke.
"I'm not angry."
"You're still saying no?!" Du Juan rudely pulled the quilt off and was about to scold him when she suddenly saw the scars faintly visible under the child's clothes. There were new and old scars from the back to the eyes to the calves, and the scar on the ankle was the most horrifying.
Du Juan clenched and loosened her hands that were pinching the corner of the quilt, and slapped Xiao Nanhui on the back of the head. Xiao Nanhui immediately jumped up on the bed like a fat carp.
"Have you become more capable?! You've been away for so long and haven't even replied to a letter from home. After coming back, you're still running out every other day. From now on, you might as well stop eating my cooking and move in to drink with your friends on Yanfu Street every day..."
Xiao Nanhui was well aware of this kind of "morning lecture", so he covered his head and looked at Du Juan, pretending to be serious.
"Sister Dujuan, have you really never had a master or learned any palm techniques? Or has she already established her own sect, but is keeping it secret?"
Dujuan finally couldn't hold back her laughter, then she remembered something and took out a letter from her pocket.
"You're just being ridiculous. This is a letter for you. It was sent by someone from General Yan's residence, specifically asking that it be delivered to you."
Yan Guang?
Xiao Nanhui was a little confused and took the letter to read it carefully.
The letterhead was made of high-quality paper, but the handwriting was so thick and blunt that it was horrible to look at.
The first line I see is "Seeing the words is like seeing the person", and reading further down is a nonsensical statement.
"On October 23rd, Xiao Nanhui returned to the military tent and promised to teach me three sets of boxing techniques. He has not yet fulfilled his promise, so I am hereby urging you to do so."
The three characters in the signature were quite fluent, and it was obvious that he only practiced these three characters in his daily life. They were: Mo Chunhua.
She raised her eyebrows, understanding a little: "General Yan, have you brought any female relatives back home recently?"
Du Juan frowned and thought carefully. "That's probably true. I noticed that the cloth shop Jinlou on Dingyu Road sent a lot of satin jewelry the other day. It seems like a new owner has moved in."
Of course, Mo Chunhua, you are the liberated slave who is singing.
She was a little curious about why Yan Guang had suddenly come to his senses and started to care about this unwelcome concubine. She would definitely ask Mo Chunhua about it someday.
Dujuan looked at the expression of the woman in front of him, somewhat thoughtful.
"You seem to have made a lot of friends since you came back from Suyan."
"Really?" She scratched her head, obviously not paying much attention to the matter. "They are just some people I met on the road. I will introduce them to my adoptive father someday."
"Forget it recently." Du Juan waved her hand, looking a little worried. "The Marquis has looked too haggard these past few days, and even more so when he came back from the villa..."
Suddenly realizing that she had mentioned something she shouldn't have, Du Juan abruptly shut her mouth and quickly glanced at Xiao Nanhui's expression.
This glance had a bit of a "confession" meaning. It would have been fine if he hadn't looked at it, but as soon as Xiao Nanhui saw it, he knew that Xiao Zhun's visit to the villa was probably related to the Bai family's affairs.
Even though she had convinced herself countless times, she would still collapse uncontrollably from the inside when she heard even a few words about that woman.
The two words "Bai Yun" are now like a curse that can easily shatter her original life.
"Nan Hui, actually..."
Dujuan seemed to want to say something more, but the next second, Chen Si's voice came from the yard, interrupting the words that Dujuan had already said.
"Has the young lady risen yet?"
Du Juan covered up the situation by bringing over a copper basin filled with hot water, soaking a handkerchief with it and throwing it at Xiao Nanhui's face. She replied, "I'll get up now."
Chen Si paused, then continued, "Someone from Yanchi Camp said they have something important to tell you in person. They're waiting in the front hall. Would you like to go see them now, or wait a moment longer?"
Sometimes it was the Yan family and sometimes it was the Yanchi Camp. Xiao Nanhui thought: It wasn't so lively here before.
She was feeling a little upset right now and didn't want to see anyone, but then she thought that having someone to distract her might be a good thing.
"Thank you for your help, Uncle Chen. I'll be right there."
She wiped her face roughly with a wet towel, then grabbed the clothes she had changed yesterday and put them on. Dujuan, who was standing by, looked at her and glared at her again.
She pretended not to see it, took a piece of steamed cake from the tea tray brought by Dujuan, and went to the front hall with it in her mouth.
After finishing the steamed cake in a few bites, Xiao Nanhui had just reached the destination and looked up.
This is incredible. The person standing in the front hall is Ding Weixiang.
She thought that the other party would never talk to her again in this life, but she didn't expect to see him at her doorstep.
She lingered behind the pillar for a while, but Ding Weixiang, with his wild dog-like hearing, spotted her in an instant. He pierced through the pillar, bowed slightly, and said respectfully, "Greetings, General."
She walked out from behind the pillar somewhat awkwardly, and waved her hand in a pretentious manner: "Ah, if you want to reconcile, there's no need to come to visit. We're all of the same generation, so what's the big general or small general..."
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