Playing to the death and cheating on you

She sat down on a wooden stake and saw the light of lamps and candles coming from the farmer's house in the distance, and there was a faint sound of suona, obviously someone's family was marrying a new wife. 【】

The unpretentious banquet, the relatives and friends in the bridal chamber, the amazement and surprise of two men and women who have never met before when they uncovered the red hijab...

Perhaps, or folk women are more pleasant, right?As a newlywed, the sweet taste, even if the husband and wife have simple food and old clothes, is far better than being in the cold palace, facing a table full of fish and meat alone.

She sat for a long while, and the sound of the suona was gone in the night.

In the ears, in the woods at the end of summer, it was like the singing of a nightingale, followed by a strong fragrance wafting in the wind.

Surprised by the fragrance, she stood up slowly, under the cold moonlight, silently, a branch of wild thorn fruit stretched out in front of her.

She was startled, but saw the person standing in front of her, dressed in a pale white shirt, like a scholar rushing for an exam.

Then, the fruit-laden branch moved a little closer in front of her, almost across her nose, carrying a sweet summer fragrance.

Obviously her heart was beating so fast that it was about to jump out of her chest, but she couldn't say a word.

And he, too.

He drove all night and didn't even have time to take a sip of water... After working day and night, he finally came here... In his whole life, he had never done such a romantic thing.

The branch was raised in front of her, but she foolishly forgot to pick it up.But he smiled and said nothing, and continued to wander around, holding up the wild prickly berry branch for a while to look at, and then bending down to look at the clusters of wild roses in front of him, or picking up a red flower and holding it to his nose to smell it. The scent of it, or look at the first drops of dew on the petals in the moonlight.

A big flying insect flew past him, and seemed to land on the shoulder of the water lotus, and stopped. He stretched out his hand, as if to grab it lightly, but the flying insect flew away.

Shui Lian stopped at this moment and stared at him.

Still not paying attention, he put the wild thorn fruit aside, sat down on a thick wooden stake, and pointed to another wooden stake, motioning for her to sit.

She sat down, and under the moonlight, the two faced each other.

He smiled, and took out a flute from his arms, but it was definitely not a flute instrument, maybe it was a special instrument in the military camp, but the song he played was lingering, not the rough and original ecology of a warrior:

,,