Yuan Wulang's letter, which was hidden in the newspaper and smuggled into Shengjing City, now lay quietly on the dresser.

  Wrapped in yellow oiled paper, as Xiao Lin said, it was indeed a very thick stack.

  To those who don't know the truth, what a loving and devoted couple they must be to write such deeply passionate letters!

  But Cui Ling was somewhat apprehensive, her white jade-like right hand stretched out to the letter several times, but fell down in hesitation and hesitation.

  She can't even figure out what kind of feelings she has for Yuan Wulang anymore.

  Is it apathy and indifference, or is there a hint of expectation?

  Alright, she admitted that at first she was willing to volunteer to marry over and had no relationship with Yuan Wulang.

  She simply wants to live a comfortable, simple and quiet life out of her own selfishness.

  It has been more than three months since I got married, and my mood during this period has not been constant.

  Cui Rong had also once hoped that after Yuan Wulang won and returned to the court, they could live a normal life as an ordinary couple.

  But all her beautiful hopes had vanished more than a month ago in the letter from Yuan Wulang, which seemed to be a polite greeting but was actually a threat.

  Now, on the dressing table made of Huanghuali wood, the bright red lacquer is dazzlingly red, like a brilliant sunrise, and also like the fragrant rouge in her box.

  It constantly reminded Cui Ying that the second letter brought by Yuan Wulang from the distant northwest border was quietly waiting for her to open it.

  She didn't know whether she should look at what was inside.

  After all, it was not long ago that she had some expectations of being a wife to Yuan Wulang.

  She was very afraid that this letter would ruthlessly crush her still unsteady hopes like a soap bubble being pricked.

  The warm sunlight at noon shines through the gaps in the window lattice, casting a dappled shadow on the green jade floor of the cozy little house.

  A gentle breeze blew in, carrying a hint of chilliness that rippled her heart.

  Cui Ling thought for a moment and then cut open the letter.

  Unexpectedly, it wasn't letter paper inside.

  But folded into a thick stack of canvas.

  She was very curious and carefully opened the canvas.

  What entered her eyes was a simple and smooth ink painting with elegant brushstrokes.

  The canvas is very large and can cover the entire dressing table.

  In the lower left corner is a row of houses, in the courtyard stands a small person with flying clothes, with a strip of cloth tied to his left hand, looking like he was injured.

  The upper right corner of the canvas is a battlefield. A general wearing armor and holding a long spear on horseback is fighting fiercely with the enemy.

  On a canvas one zhang wide, brush and ink shine brightly, seemingly casual strokes yet forming a majestic landscape of the northwest frontier.

  Cui Ying saw the sunset over the long river in the northwest border.

  Saw the beauty of the vast and desolate grassland.

  Saw the two armies facing each other with a solemn and murderous smoke. The decisive battle of throwing one's head and shedding hot blood.

  Also saw the golden armor and iron horse, the sound of killing and wailing, life and death separated by only a thin line.

  What is war, after all? To Cui Rong, it was just a vague and hazy concept.

  She knew it would be brutal, there would be bloodshed and people might die.

  But all of this was based on information she had seen in TV news or documentary films in her past life.

  To her, it was very distant. Not real.

  Just as Du Niang told her, Yuan Jia's second son died in the war against the Turks five years ago, and she only felt sorry for Er Sao.

  Everything is just imagination without personal experience.

  She can't put herself in his shoes.

  But now, in Yuan Wulang's painting, the scattered swords and broken spears all over the ground. The corpses and blood expressed only with ink dots were so vivid and clear that they explained to her the horror of war.

  She shivered slightly.

  Cui Ling seems to have sensed Yuan Wulang's intentions.

  This time, his painting had no threats, no warnings and no intimidation.

  She thought he should just see her unreservedly describing her daily life in the letter, think it's interesting or satisfying, so return a favor and tell her his.

  Of course, Cui Ying was extremely ashamed to admit that in front of Yuan Wulang's superb, smooth and sharp painting skills, her previous rough and crooked simple paintings were just childish doodles.

  Not even in the same league.

  Yuan Wulang's painstakingly sent painting seemed to be stained with the bloody smell of the battlefield, making her tremble with fear.

  But for her, this cruel and terrifying life was his normal state at all times.

  Cui Ying felt something at the bottom of her heart slowly melting away.

  Her gaze involuntarily stayed on the small figure standing under the eaves in the lower left corner.

  Because it's painted in an abstract style, for a moment I couldn't tell whether it was an old man or a young person, and could only vaguely make out that it was a man from his attire.

  The man stood facing the border, his hands raised and feet stomping, with a look of anxiety on his face.

  His left arm was wrapped in a thick bandage at a very conspicuous location.

  Cui Ying's eyelid twitched and she suddenly stood up from the stool.

  She rushed into Lao Taitai's house with the canvas, and saw Lao Taitai and San Sao and Si Sao gathered together reading a letter.

  "Grandma, did Wu Lang write to you? Was he injured? How was he injured? Is it serious?"

  Choi Yong also couldn't understand why his reaction was so intense.

  After guessing that the injured little man might be Yuan Wulang, her heart felt like it was going to wrinkle up.

  Obviously just a one-sided fate, even if she is destined to be connected with him in name only for the rest of her life, but after all, he is still a stranger.

  She must have been enchanted by that painting, shocked by the bloodstains and the distant screams of slaughter, even her mood has changed.

  But she still wants to know what happened to Yuan Wulang and whether the injured little man is him or not.

  Old Lady Yuan was taken aback, "Didn't Xiaowu tell you in his letter?"

  She handed over the letter in her hand, "A few days ago, he was shot by a stray arrow on his left arm. Your father and two elder brothers were heartbroken for him, so they didn't let him go to the front line again, leaving him at Muzhou Prefecture."

  For the old lady, it's nothing new for her children and grandchildren to wear medals on their chests when they go out; she feels a little heartache but isn't particularly anxious.

  Muzhou Prefecture is the last pass of the northwest barrier.

  It was also a very lively and prosperous place before the Rouran never invaded its borders.

  Not to mention that the military doctors who followed were all top-notch experts, ordinary arrow wounds could also be cured by the medical officer of Muzhou Prefecture.

  It's no big deal.

  Moreover, as Xiao Wu said in his letter, he was injured in the arm and General Quanguo couldn't bear to let him go on another expedition.

  He was left in the city, responsible for commanding the supply of military supplies, the dispatching of grain and fodder, and the treatment of wounded soldiers.

  Compared with fighting against the fierce Rouran cavalry on the front line, this is a much safer task.

  The old lady hurriedly comforted Cui Ying: "Xiao Wu is fine, Xiao Wu's wife, don't worry."

  Cui Ling carefully looked at the letter handed to her by Old Lady, with Yuan Wulang's beautiful and neat handwriting briefly describing his recent situation. Consistent with the content of the painting he gave her, but simple and straightforward, far from like hers, still had to rely on guessing.

  She didn't notice for a moment, and suddenly found that the old lady had somehow pulled out the painting from under her arm.

  Cui Ling's small face turned red as she protested and called out, "Grandma!"

  But then he heard Lian and Su Zihua's low, suppressed laughter.

  Lian's family was smiling and nodding, "Fifth brother's letter is so thick! It turned out to be a painting!"

  She sighed and said, "It's all thanks to Fifth Brother that he can draw out what he says. Your Third Brother...".

  Lian shook his head, "Look, he can't even write a clear sentence. Just these few lines, the words don't match up, I have no idea what he's trying to tell me."

  Su Zi suddenly seemed to have an epiphany and softly exclaimed, "Ah!"

  She turned her head to look at Cui Ying, narrowing her eyes and asking, "Did Fifth Brother's sister also send a painting to Fifth Brother last time?"

  Cui Ling was taken aback. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly, her face flushing with embarrassment, "Uh-huh."

  She really didn't want to admit such a shameful thing.

  But Fourth Aunt asked her, and she wasn't used to lying.

  Su Zi smiled with pursed lips, "That's it!"

  She readily handed over the letter written by Yuan Si Lang, pointed to one of the lines and said, "Your fourth brother said that your fifth brother entrusted me to teach you to recognize characters and write when I have time. Although our family's daughter-in-law doesn't need to be a talented woman, she should at least be able to read letters."

  Su Zi's painting lost its smile, "This sentence, I originally looked at it like a blind monk, if the fifth brother and sister were also sending paintings last time, then it makes sense."

  Her smile grew thicker, "Fifth brother probably thought you were illiterate, so he went to great lengths to draw a picture for you."

  Lian hastily took over the conversation and said, "Among the brothers at home, Fifth Brother not only looks the most handsome but is also the most considerate and knows how to care for others."

  She gently patted Cui Ying's shoulder, her tone full of sincerity, "Fifth brother and sister are really blessed!"

  The old lady was also very happy.

  Just now Xiao Wu's wife thought Xiao Wu was injured, so she was in such a hurry, this is true feelings revealed.

  She was worried that this would cause discord between the young couple she had forced together and who only had one night of conjugal bliss.

  But now, one is tenderly remembered from a thousand miles away, and another is anxiously worried about the husband on a distant expedition.

  Although we are not in the same place, this feeling is still strong and deep.

  The old lady thought that as long as the young couple loved each other, even if they didn't conceive on their wedding night, it was only a matter of time before they had children after returning to Shengjing. She would have little great-grandchildren to hold, and that was something to look forward to.

  She was delighted in her heart, and her eyebrows and eyes all smiled into a crescent shape.

  Cui Ying felt uneasy at this time.

  It's been a long time since she felt so embarrassed.

  In the past when she was in An Ning Bo Fu's residence, she was like a passing guest, never investing even half a bit of emotions.

  So, the mood is like a calm and waveless pool of water, with no ups and downs.

  But at this moment, she felt her heart pounding and her face burning.

  Is it because... you've started caring?

  The curtains fluttered gently, and Ning Jun, the young mistress of Yining, smiled as she entered the house. "Grandmother's place is so lively today; what are all my younger siblings laughing about?"

  Lian's mouth was quick, and he repeated the previous mistake, and the county master also followed along with a laugh.

  After laughing for a while, Princess Yining adjusted her expression and said, "The Empress Dowager has been unwell lately, so I went to the palace today. I met Empress Jiang."

  ps：

  New book on shelves, seeking pink! Pink 30 more updates!

  The second update will be at 12:00 tomorrow!