"Qingqing, what are you doing?"
Mu Lige, who was sitting on the swing in the front yard, saw Hua Qingcheng returning. Following her were not only her own Xiangyun horse, but also a chestnut-brown horse. He couldn't help but feel curious.
"Brother Li, this Red Hare you are talking about? I picked it up." Hua Qingcheng curled the corners of her lips and said teasingly.
"Red Hare?"
Upon hearing this, Mu Lige looked at the chestnut-brown horse. Its face shape did look like a rabbit, and the color also matched. The name was really quite descriptive.
"It's indeed a good horse. You picked it up well!" Mu Lige looked at Hua Qingcheng with a doting look in his eyes and praised her very considerately.
"Brother Li, look what good things I brought you?"
After placing the horse in the stable, Hua Qingcheng dragged Mu Lige to sit at the stone table under the big tree in the front yard.
"A horn comb?"
Mu Lige took the yellow ox horn comb that Hua Qingcheng took out from her arms. She saw that the comb had a mellow color, smooth texture, and an excellent feel. It was indeed a good comb.
"Brother Li, I heard that this yellow ox horn has health-preserving effects and is also good for pregnant women. I think it is especially suitable for you, so I bought it for you. Do you like it?" Hua Qingcheng looked at Mu Lige with anticipation.
"Of course I like it."
Mu Lige's eyes shone softly and she smiled tenderly.
In the country of Laifeng, giving a comb to a husband is a token of long-lasting love and the hope of growing old together. How can he not be happy?
"It's a pity that your body is still with Monk Hua, otherwise I could comb your hair for you." Hua Qingcheng said with a little regret.
"That's fine. It's the same if you give it to Qingqing first."
Mu Lige twisted her hair with her left hand and held a horn comb in her right hand, combing her hair while writing lyrics.
"Separation. The scattered flowers are crushed into mud. Layer upon layer, where can I find refuge?"
"Brother Li, why are you feeling a little sad all of a sudden?"
Looking at Mu Lige who seemed a little lonely, Hua Qingcheng felt a slight pain in her heart.
"Qingqing, do you know the meaning of giving a comb to your husband?"
Mu Lige smiled faintly and was about to scratch Hua Qingcheng's nose, but when he thought that this body was Wuchen, and it would be a bit weird for him to behave so intimately towards his cousin, he gave up the idea.
"Could it be a token of love or something like that?" Hua Qingcheng rubbed her chin slightly, thinking in confusion.
“You…”
Mu Lige smiled bitterly.
"It means longing for the other person and the hope of growing old together. Just like a willow hairpin, it can't be given to a man casually."
After explaining the meaning of giving the comb as a gift, Mu Lige's tone became more serious: "Qingqing, are you sure you want to give this comb to me?"
"Of course. If it's such a meaningful thing, who else should I give it to if not Brother Li?"
Mu Lige's smile was sweet and intoxicating. For the first time, Hua Qingcheng felt that her body could be so stunning.
Hua Qingcheng resisted the urge to hug Mu Lige, feeling extremely upset. After all, her current body was Wuchen's, and Brother Li's body was hers.
"Qingqing~"
Mu Lige called out to Hua Qingcheng softly, but saw that he was looking straight ahead with a leisurely gaze.
"The autumn wind sweeps the ground withering, the fallen flowers and leaves gradually fade. I long for the loneliness of autumn, not knowing that flowers bloom all year round.
The beautiful lady came into my dream, singing a song of longing. Our first meeting was out of gratitude, and from the moment we got to know each other, I was completely captivated by her.
How can one change an unfair fate? With diligent hands, one silently cultivates the land. Without sympathy and love, what good will a tender heart have?
When the young man was in danger from the fire, how could he hope to be warmed by the warmth of others? It is said that if there is true love in the world, if you turn your heart towards the sun, the butterfly will find it.
Hua Qingcheng felt even more upset after hearing this.
The husbands at home were all more talented than the other. Hua Qingcheng could fight, but she couldn't write poetry. However, she could still sense Mu Lige's mixed feelings from his words.
"Brother Li, if life deceives you, don't be sad, don't be anxious, because it may continue to deceive you."
Hua Qingcheng paused, then continued seriously, "So, if someone bullies you, you must fight them back. If you can take revenge on the spot, do so. If you can't, write it down in a notebook. When you have enough power, we can settle the score together. How about that?"
Mu Lige:......
The sad and touching atmosphere that Mu Lige had created was destroyed in an instant by Hua Qingcheng.
"Yes, Qingqing, you are right!"
Mu Lige raised the corners of his lips slightly and looked at Hua Qingcheng with a doting smile.
When his young wife becomes a princess, I'm afraid the princess tutor of Laifeng Kingdom will have a headache. But don't worry, he can still take care of everything, right?
"Brother Li, do you... miss your father, mother, and concubine?"
Hua Qingcheng looked at Mu Lige with deep distress. Behind her feelings about her life, she was probably missing her parents endlessly.
Mu Lige gently twisted her hair with one hand and tightly grasped the horn comb with the other, but when she heard his words, her hands paused slightly, her eyes full of tears.
"The night is shrouded in mist, and the shadows of the swaying trees are cast in the distance. Outside the imperial city of Zhaoyang Sumu, 300,000 bandits have broken through the gates.
The shrill howls raged in the flames, the blood-stained East Palace was filled with endless tears. The memory is etched in my heart, leaving a lingering fear, and the souls of my parents will follow me through life and death."
"Qingqing, Li Ge has never forgotten the kindness of his parents. He always keeps them in his heart."
At this moment, Mu Lige's mind was filled with the scenes of Su Mutianjun's rebellion six years ago, and the tragic deaths of Su Mutiansheng and Gongsun Muxue in the fire in the East Palace.
But he stopped combing his hair, held the horn comb tightly in his hand, and held it to his heart, as if at this moment, this horn comb was all the power to warm his heart.
"Brother Li~"
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