Galo pulled the wound belt and tied it to him, passing through his waist, like a gentle hug on the couch, twisting it hard, and another layer of sweat was covered with sweat. Yang Jian reached out to wipe it off for her, hugged her in his arms, sighed deeply and satisfiedly. "It's not going well yet." She groaned. "It's okay." "You're stuffy with me."

"Shhh... don't move, let me hug you." Garo indulged in his hug, smelling the bloody but familiar smell of his body. Maybe they had loved each other in the last life, but nothing could resist the tragic fate of a flower-like beauty and the childless ones.

How good would it be if Yang Jian never changed in this life? The dark night can cover up the fear of others. Galo lowered his head and asked softly: "Ajian... can we not want children?" The north wind whistled across the branches, and snow fell rustling down.

"What?" Xue Luo's voice covered her question and gave her the best answer. "No." Galo bit her tongue. "Does it still hurt?" "A little." Yang Jian grinned, but his voice was very tired: "You kiss me." Galo was silent for a while. When Yang Jian was about to return disappointed, she really went up and kissed his forehead.

"Eyes." Garo kissed his beautiful eyes, which were filled with the whole world. "Nose." He asked for his high nose like a hook, straight and straight. "Lips... neck, hands..." Garo kissed him. Yang Jian sighed with satisfaction and smiled: "It's my place."

He kissed her forehead, which was wide and square, smooth and plump. Her eyebrows were like a crescent moon, and as green as distant mountains. Eyes... Galo's eyelashes trembled gently, like the dead leaves that were about to fall in autumn. Yang Jian kissed her eyes. There was a plum blossom in the courtyard withering in the cold wind. "Hey, why do you cry so much now?"

Tonight's night was hazy and intoxicating, like a layer of veil covering the two of them. The oil lamp burned the last drop of oil, and the faint light slowly dimmed. Yang Jian stroked her face and rubbed it gently: "Oh... Gala, don't cry, don't cry."

"Why are you crying?" Galapo swayed his eyes and wiped away his tears: "I didn't cry, it was wind and frost that made him confused." She lowered her head and continued to wrap around his wounds. The window was opened from the inside to the outside, and charcoal was burning in the fire. The faint red light kept flashing and jumping like notes. The cold wind swept into the snowflakes and brought a faint fragrance of plums.

Gala tied a knot to the wound. When she was about to get up, Yang Jian held her hand: "Gala, you are ready tomorrow, we will go to Yecheng." Gala lowered his head and asked, "Have you won?" "Yes!" He answered Man Zhi: "Capturing Yang Su alive is a capable minister, and he will help me a lot in the future!"

Gala responded, of course she knew the value of Yang Su. Just leave or not? Yang Jian will soon get the painting fan. She knows what kind of person the painting fan is. She also remembers clearly how much Yang Jian loved her at that time. Yang Jian raised her jaw and looked straight into her eyes: "Gala, how about it?"

"I..." Gala avoided his eyes: "Madam Hongzheng is about to give birth, I want to stay and take care of her." It's Madam Hongzheng again! Yang Jian looked at her deeply: "Is Madam Hongzheng important?" "She is seven months pregnant. I'm worried that she can't stand it when she goes to Yecheng. What if she gives birth halfway?" Gala replied.

Yang Jian did not allow her to avoid it, so he turned her back: "Look at me." He lit the oil lamp, stood in front of her, Garo raised his head and raised his eyes, with his eyes familiar to the other party. With the vicissitudes of the world and old age, his magnanimity and wail. Yang Jian leaned over and stroked her face, and the other party closed his eyes and pressed against his palm.

Even though they had been dirty, sad and intrigued, this profound feeling never changed with the passage of time. No one in this world is more familiar with each other than them. Although her life was given a tragic color by him, she still loved him. It was just now.

"Galao." Yang Jian called her, his eyes a little confused: "You have been... recently... seem to be avoiding me." He paused and asked, "What are you afraid of?" Gala asked, "Ajian, isn't it good for me to stay here?" Yang Jian shook his head: "No."

He needed her by his side: "Giao, I owe you too much... Child, we can have another child, let's give birth to a son for me!" His emotions burst out passionately in his words, his eyes flashing with the most dazzling stars in the sky. No son, whether in this life or now, it is the biggest problem that spans among them.

Gala was silent. "Let's chat tomorrow and go to bed tonight." The two of them had a displeasure. They lay down with their backs to each other, and a gap was set between the thick quilt, and a cold wind blew in.

After coming over for a while, a sigh came from the other end. He turned around and hugged her into his arms, made up for the void, and hugged her densely with his own warmth. "Your wound." Garo stiffened. "Don't talk." He gave the order overbearingly, hugging her into his arms and became tighter. "But..." "I will set off for Yecheng tomorrow."

He hummed. Galo indeed shut up, snuggled in his arms, carefully drawing circles on his wound belt with his nails. After a long time, the breathing in his arms gradually stabilized. He lowered his head and saw that the person in his arms had fallen asleep, and his pale cheeks were flushed like an apple because of the heat.

Yang Jian asked in a low voice, "Are you so afraid of Liu?" His arms tightened a little, and Gala frowned. Yang Jian relaxed his hands and said good sleep again. The two woke up in the morning and never mentioned what happened last night. Yang Jian sat in the middle of the hall drinking morning tea. Gala had finished his meal and lowered his head and was making him follow-up cloth shoes.

The shoes were almost done, and he had made four or five pairs for a month. The morning glory poured in from outside, shining on her side, and the tiny plush on her face was revealed in front of him. There was no more peaceful time than this.

While drinking tea, the sound of footsteps coming from outside broke the silence. Yang Jian frowned indefinitely. Changsun came in: "Duke Sui, Madam Yuchi, Madam Yuchi is here." Before he finished speaking, Madam Hongzheng had arrived.

She raised her high abdomen and leaned against the threshold panting. Her eyes stared straight towards Yang Jian. Her eyes, which were as beautiful as autumn water, had already leaching a layer of water. "A Jian!" She rushed into Yang Jian's arms. The other party hesitated for a while, took her body stiffly, and looked at her lower abdomen in a daze.

"Ajian, I miss you." She covered her face and cried, and said, "Ajian has been away from home for half a month, do you miss me?" As she said that, she grabbed Yang Jian's hand with her abdomen and stroked her: "Ajian, the child is jumping." Under the palm of the tentacles was the beating of the fetus, which became active as the temperature rose.

Mrs. Hongzheng shared this joy sweetly with Yang Jian. The joy overflowed from her face, and the abundant feelings made her tear-jerking for a while. Garo pulled her hair behind her ears and looked at them.

The outsider, the feeling of being out of place made her feel very subtle. Her husband made another woman pregnant, and she could only watch and not have a trace of jealousy, because this is the virtuous wife. She has been virtuous for a lifetime and should continue to be virtuous. Yes, Yang Jian thinks it should be like this.

But... that sour and lonely feeling was like the surging surging of the sea drowned her. "Ajian, has Yecheng captured?" Mrs. Hongzheng pinched his shoulder and asked with a chuckling. Yang Jian pulled her down his knees: "I'm going back this time to pick you up with your wife to Yecheng, so go pack your clothes."

"Ajian..." Mrs. Hongzheng looked at him and slowly stretched out her hand to cover her palms. The joy slowly faded: "I'm going to clean up now." "Madam." He turned to Gala: "You should go and prepare too." Mrs. Hongzheng, who walked to the door, turned around and looked at the two people sitting in the hall.

It was rare to see a trace of helplessness on Yang Jian's face. Yes, helplessness. This expression was strange to her. Mrs. Hongzheng looked at Gala. She sat with her back to Mrs. Hongzheng, drinking tea with her back straight. After hearing this, she paused and put down the tea cup at her mouth again.

Yang Jian said: "Madam Hongzheng has gone to Yecheng, and you don't need to be in Suizhou anymore." "Ajian." Garo bit his lip and looked at him. It turned out that he had such thoughts. Before she could say something to refuse, Yang Jian had pointed at his abdomen: "I need you too." He advised again: "Get packed up my clothes, I don't want to be angry with you."

Gala and Gu Jin were both in a cold war for many days. She couldn't tell the feeling that Yang Jian asked her to go to Yecheng on the stance. This was a way to affirm her status. She should thank Yang Jian, but when she thought of the painting fan, she felt a slight tingling in her heart, and she was dissatisfied. What were she dissatisfied?

On the night before leaving, Yang Jian finally asked this sentence. He was dissatisfied. Yes, there was nothing worth dissatisfaction with. Even in the end, Yang Jian drove away all the women around him and obtained her own bed in order to paint a fan, but this kind of wealth and prosperity will never belong to a woman alone.

For Yang Jian, no matter how much a woman has a couch, she is just a toy on her palm. He can play or love her, but she can't care about it. Gala suddenly felt ridiculous. She had been a couple with him for so many years, but she still couldn't see through it. Perhaps it was because of Chong'er's deep love between the queen and the queen that made her envious of being such a little woman.

The carriage kept moving forward in the dirt road with bumpy progress, and the body of the car swayed and bumped along the muddy road. "Gala!" Yang Jian lifted the curtain and shouted: "When you pass this mountain, you will be Yecheng!"

Gala followed his fingers and saw that the mountains were covered with green mountains not far away, surrounded by lush forests and bamboos covering the mountains. The temperature in the mountains was always colder than in the county. The snow had stopped and it began to rain one after another. The rain was like the tips of needles, falling straight down, knocking down trees, grasslands and fallen leaves, making rustling sounds.
Chapter completed!