"Um."
He agreed, and she rubbed her head against his neck, "Don't rush too much, don't get tired, if I'm not in Lizhou, I'm back in Beijing."
"Yeah." Chen Siwei lowered his head to look at her profile and held her hand.
After hugging for a while, there was a knock on the door and Shuang Xu's voice came, "Miss, you are ready."
Chen Siwei put her down, tidied her clothes, and seeing her reluctant look, he hugged her again and gave her a warm kiss on the corner of her lips.
Sui Zhao pursed his lips and his face flushed unconsciously.
He kissed her again, took her hand, and said, "I'll take you away."
He sent Sui Zhao to the carriage, lifted the curtain and looked at him for a long time until his figure disappeared from his sight.
Shuang Xu saw that she was completely depressed, so he comforted her, "Miss, think about it, you will be able to see the master and the mistress soon, will this make you feel better?"
After hearing this, Sui Zhao felt hopeful again.
I haven’t seen my parents for more than a month. I miss them.
There was no rush to go back, as my parents were already in their temporary home, and there was no need to rush like when we came here. It took me eight or nine days to get back.
After sitting in the carriage for a long time, Sui Zhao felt like a cauliflower hit by frost when he got home. He only perked up when he saw his parents.
She ran towards Zhu Fuli happily, but stopped before throwing herself into her arms, "I'll take a bath and then hug you."
Zhu Fuli smiled and hugged her, "Mother doesn't dislike you."
Sui Zhao hugged her and acted coquettishly for a while, then took a shower and took a nap.
September 6th was Zhu Fuli's birthday. Yan Tinglan cooked for her personally that day and made longevity noodles and other meals.
Sui Zhao got up early and went into the kitchen to help.
"Daddy, what can I do?"
Yan Tinglan pointed to the stool next to the stove and said, "Sit there and watch the fire."
"Oh, all right." Let her watch the fire every year.
After finishing his meal and giving his mother a birthday gift, Sui Zhao tactfully slipped away, leaving them to cling together while he went back to his room to write a letter to Chen Siwei.
The weather was getting colder and time passed in the blink of an eye. It was already early November, and during that time I had only received one letter from Shen Siwei.
There was a light snowfall in the sky. Zhu Fuli, wearing a white cape, knocked on the door. "An An."
Sui Zhao opened the door and welcomed her in, hugging her, "Mom, come in quickly, don't get cold."
Zhu Fuli rubbed her head and said, "I just came in from outside, aren't you cold?"
"I have plenty of energy, so I'm not cold." She rubbed the fur on Zhu Fuli's cloak, "What did you want to see me about, mother?"
"We will be returning to Beijing in two days. If there is anything to pack, pack it early."
Sui Zhao thought of something when he heard this and felt a little disappointed, but he quickly calmed down and said, "Okay."
Zhu Fuli took off his cloak and put it aside, pinching her face, "Are you waiting for him to come?"
"Well, it's okay. He won't see anyone when he comes. He will go back to the capital."
…
At the foot of the mountain, Chen Siwei led Quan Ling into the village, where a group of villagers were roasting fire and chatting under an old tree at the entrance of the village.
"Alas, I heard that the family halfway up the mountain is going to the state capital."
"How do you know?"
"Yesterday I took my daughter up the mountain to carry firewood. My eldest daughter went to play with Miss Yan and saw them packing up their things."
When the village chief asked his name, Yan Tinglan said "Yan".
"Then when they come back in the spring, won't it be just the couple? Miss Yan said she'd get married in the spring."
"I heard from Miss Yan herself that her fiancé is a scholar with great talent and is a good husband that her parents had arranged for her last year."
"Yes, yes, but the couple are both so young. They live a good life if they have money. Unlike us, we seem to be two generations older than them at the same age."
Chen Siwei, who was passing by, tightened his grip on the sword handle at his waist.
Quan Ling couldn't help but look at him, "Sir, they are talking about..."
Chen Siwei paused for a moment and continued walking up the mountain. His originally good expression became even more tense.
When he arrived at the gate of the courtyard, he stood there for a long time, staring at the door. He only knocked on the door after a thick layer of snow had accumulated above his head.
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