Empress is His Majesty's White Moonlight

chapter 210

It was night, and a hazy moon was coming out of the clouds that were as transparent as the wings of a cicada, shining with silvery brilliance.

Fu Ling yawned and got up from the couch. Seeing that it was getting late outside, she couldn't help rubbing her round belly: "Ah Li, you've been sleeping for so long again, and I'm dragged down by you again."

(Little Ari:.)

She pushed open the door of the inner room, and saw the tall and straight figure of the man, Jun Beicheng was sitting at the desk outside working.

There was steaming anti-birth porridge on the table, and Qingxue was placing the spoons.

Seeing Fuling, Qingxue showed a decent and respectful smile: "Your Majesty, you are awake, what a coincidence, the porridge is hot."

After saying that, Qingxue walked to the table holding Fuling's arm.

Fuling patted Qingxue's shoulder and smiled slightly: "I've been sleeping for a long time, the porridge will cool down first, I'll move around."

Qingxue nodded, and stopped disturbing the two of them, and retreated with blessings.

"Come here." Jun Beicheng waved to her.

Fu Ling walked over slowly, saw the bright red invitation card on the table, and frowned: "What are you busy with?"

"Write the invitation."

"What invitation to write?"

Jun Beicheng held the brush meticulously, his handwriting was majestic and majestic, very beautiful: "Of course it's an invitation to show off my son's birth, and send it to Xiao Jingli, and invite him to drink the full moon wine."

"."

Fu Ling picked up an invitation card written by Jun Beicheng from the table. The bright red invitation card was engraved with beautiful dragon and phoenix patterns, and the border outlined with golden silk was extravagant, and it was matched with the emperor's imperial brush.
Fu Ling cleared her throat, stretched out her hand, touched Jun Beicheng's head, and asked very seriously, "You don't have a fever, do you?"

He gave her a white look: "I'm fine."

"It's still two months before your son is born, what are you doing so early?"

"Isn't it just to take a concubine? He even handed over an invitation card in advance." Jun Beicheng was obviously dissatisfied, and sneered, "Maybe let me teach him how to behave."

Fu Ling was speechless for a moment: "Are you jealous of his marriage?"

"Yes," Jun Beicheng dipped in the ink, and admitted frankly, "I just can't see him well."

"Did he offend you?"

Jun Beicheng stared straight at her, and smiled meaningfully: "As the saying goes, when you meet a rival in love, you are extremely jealous."

With a dark face, Fu Ling threw the invitation on the table, and said, "I've already married you, and I want to marry another girl, so how can I talk about a rival in love?"

"Then why did he send me an invitation card in response to me? There is only one invitation card, and it's for you. Isn't this provocation?"

"Maybe I just want to inform us that it's not as routine as you think."

Jun Beicheng glanced at her, and put the brush on the inkstone like a child angry: "Mu Fuling, who is your husband, and who do you want to talk to?"

"Okay, okay, you write, you write," Fu Ling knew that his stubborn temper was coming up again, so she didn't bother to pay attention to him, "I'm going to drink porridge."

Jun Beicheng embraced her, let her sit on his lap, and pampered her round belly twice: "Write with me."

"How can two people write together?"

"That's it," Jun Beicheng put his arm around her shoulders, grasped her little hand with his big one, and held the brushes together, "Only when you write like this can you write with intention."

"You can play by yourself," Fu Ling snorted, got up and went to the table to drink porridge slowly, "You are so grown up, you are still angry like a child."

"I'm three years old."

"."

Seeing that she didn't pay attention to him anymore, Jun Beicheng picked up another blank invitation card and continued to write with a brush.

Fu Ling stirred the anti-natal porridge in the small bowl, looked out of the window, quietly watching the hazy moon.

The breeze rolled the bamboo leaves and made a rustling sound.

Time flies so fast, in the blink of an eye, she is almost a mother.

(End of this chapter)