Chapter 764 Extra: It’s a wolf, not a tiger

They are both lonely, and they are clinging to each other in this cold winter, wearing the same furry blanket, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the same story, with a clean and pleasant fragrance lingering in their breath, a strand of her black hair

It slipped on the crook of Cen Zhou's neck, causing a slight itch.

"Today it's time to talk about the ending of the little tiger." Su Qing'an stood up and handed him the yellowed storybook. Her voice was a little muffled because she was buried in the young man's arms lazily. She smelled the scent of Cen Zhou,

He rubbed it with nostalgia, "Page thirty-seven."

The storybook collected by the people is very thick, and it can be seen that it has been read frequently. The corners have a faint yellow color of age. It is also rolled up, but not one page is broken. It has been carefully read and read extremely well.

Every time he came back, he would tell Su Qing'an a story, but he never told the ending.

Su Qing'an would often take it out and read it. She would read it for a whole afternoon in her spare time, but she never got past the end.

Because she knew that someone would come back, no matter how far away or how long, he would definitely come back, hold her in his arms, and complete the final chapter of this story in the dead of night.

"Last time we heard - the little tiger and the little boy fell into the trap of the forest hunter." Cen Zhou chuckled, turned to the page skillfully, and gently stroked the back of Su Qing'an's neck with his other hand.

Let her lie on your lap as if petting a small animal.

There were thin calluses on his fingertips, which made Su Qing'an itchy slightly, but she didn't hide away. She covered her face with a fluffy blanket, revealing only a pair of clear eyes, and laughed with him.

"Ouch!" Xiao Hui suddenly became energetic, got up from the ground, and howled.

Cen Zhou's voice was low: "They were trapped for a whole night, Little Tiger said..."

"Ouch!" Xiao Hui shouted again, as if he thought he was a tiger, his voice was so proud.

Su Qing'an couldn't help but tell it: "You are not a tiger, you are a wolf, a wolf."

"Ouch!" Xiao Hui turned his wolf ears blankly, as if he had realized the reality, and sat down sadly, still holding his breath and concentrating, nervously listening to the tiger's story.

"At the end of the story, the little tiger waited for a long time in the west of the forest. When it grew from a little tiger to a big tiger, and when it became majestic, it often sat on the rock. Finally one day

, waiting for the little boy."

"The little boy put his arms around its neck, smiled slyly, and said hey, man, I'm back..."

Xiao Hui fell asleep, and Su Qingan fell asleep too, her fingers still holding Cen Zhou's hand.

Cen Zhou put down his script and wanted to cover her with a quilt, but he was held tightly.

She unconsciously rubbed the back of his hand like a small animal, her hair was messy, her lips were red, and she murmured in her sleep: "Don't go..."

Cen Zhou was quiet for a while, held her hand, and coaxed her in that posture. He read her name over and over again, coaxing her for a long time. When he lowered his eyes, his eyes were gentle, and he whispered in her ear: "Give it to you again."

How about telling a new story, called Troll Monster."

The story never ends, they will eventually meet again.

In the autumn of the forty-fifth year of Yonglin, at the beginning of September, the pomegranate flowers fell and bore fruit.

In the old days, Princess Zhaoyi's mansion had red and white tiles, and nothing had changed.

As things are, so are people.

"Sweet? Or bitter?"

Su Qingan asked while standing under the tree, a little curious.

The swordsman in black stood under the tree, his back straight, his face clean, and he said slowly and seriously: "It's very sweet, princess, try it."

Su Qing'an believed it to be true, took a bite, froze for three seconds, and spat out: "Cen Jinyuan! You've learned bad things!"

He bent his eyes, smiled wantonly, and said, "Don't be angry, Qingqing, I'll pick another one for you."

Su Qing'an said angrily: "I won't eat it. It's getting cold and the pomegranate tree should be cut down."

"Okay." He pulled out his sword and raised his eyebrows and said, "I will chop down the tree for Your Majesty."

"..."

The pomegranates were picked too early this year, and they were still bitter at first, but they spread to the tip of my heart, but they were satisfying.

It was like before she ascended the throne, he was just a secret guard, and many flaming pomegranate flowers fell. She watched him dance with his sword and called his name at the window. When the young man heard the sound, she smiled.

At that time, there was only a wall between them, and they were close to each other day and night.

In the summer of the forty-seventh year of Yonglin, Cen Zhou was traveling among the tribes in the northwest of Jianghu. The market was noisy and the crowds were bustling. In a dimly lit place, he suddenly met his wife.

There she said to Cen Zhou: "I don't know much about the northwest. I wonder if this husband can give me some directions?"

Cen Zhou asked hoarsely: "What path does the girl ask for?"

"Looking for my husband, Cen Jin is far away."

The spring of the forty-ninth year of Yonglin.

Cen Zhou broke a peach blossom on the mountain road next to the southeast sea and gave it to Su Qing'an.

When will I see you again?

Flowers bloom next year.

…

Perhaps after many years, the capital is still prosperous, and the rivers and lakes are still free.

Youzhou back then is now one of the thirteen extremely important states in Daliang.

The wanderer walking on the mountain road tiredly drank the last sip of water in his water bag. He looked up and suddenly saw a temple in the distance.

Hope ignited in his heart, he shuffled over, and as he got closer, he smelled a faint scent of sandalwood. He carefully stepped into the temple, looked up, and saw the Buddha statue sitting on the high platform, shimmering in the sun, with kind eyebrows and kind eyes.

.

The Buddhist temple is solemn. There are still three unburned incense sticks in the incense burner on the table. The light gray ashes fall. The tribute fruits are placed on the plate before anyone worships and leaves.

The wanderer knelt upright on the futon, kowtowed three times, and prayed devoutly to the Bodhisattva. Once he passed the three yuan in the scientific examination, the world would know him after ten years of hard work.

After paying homage to the gods, the wanderer muttered aloud, picked an inconspicuous place and sat down to repair it.

"Worship the Bodhisattva!"

"Worship the Bodhisattva!"

There were innocent voices of children outside, followed by adults sternly reprimanding: "Don't be rude in front of the Buddhist temple!"

Two years ago, there was a drought in Youzhou and no grass grew. The people knelt in front of the Buddha and cried. The emperor personally prayed for Youzhou and prayed for rain overnight.

Today the Buddhist temple is revered by thousands of people.

More than ten thousand people.

The Bodhisattva respects the current emperor.

This is the prosperous age.

"I know." The child calmed down a little, and the group passed by the two strangers and entered the temple.

The young mother couldn't help but look back, only to see the backs of a pair of beautiful people, their clothes were blown by the wind, entangled together, and gradually moved away.

No one knows that this was once an abandoned faith, and no one knows that ten years ago, two newlyweds knelt in front of the ruined temple to worship and got married. This was a secret buried in Youzhou many years ago.

, engraved at the end of history.

At the other end of the river, a lone shadow of a wooden boat is reflected in the white center of the river. Yan Fei is a drama addict and a lunatic. He was lonely and helpless for most of his life. He escaped from a brothel and has been wandering around since then. He always likes to hum opera by the river.

, the opera is tactful, the sleeves are lightly dancing, and the play starts without stopping. This is the rule set by the ancestors, and she is the only audience.

On this day, two guests from afar were welcomed on board.

"With this little money, can I attend a show?" The woman was dressed in moon-like white and wore a curtain hat to cover her face.

The young man beside her held a sword in his left hand and protected her side with his right hand: "Thank you."

The river water is sparkling and slightly rippling.

"It's you." Yan Fei looked at them carefully for a while, smiled infatuatedly, and raised the ends of her eyes, showing that she was very romantic, "I met these two of you ten years ago..."
Chapter completed!