*

One of them made tea and the other drank tea. The fragrance of the tea lingered in the quiet and quiet room. If there were outsiders around, they would definitely feel that the situation was as warm as a painting.

"Zimei, where have you been in the past ten years? I'm so waiting!"

Song Xuanqiu's voice, the last sentence "I'm so waiting", was filled with some deep and sad feelings, which made people feel soft.

Yang Zimei put down the teacup and looked up at him. He found that his eyebrows were affectionate and had deep meaning in his eyes.

Her heart stormed—

He did not follow the life trajectory of getting married and having children that he had seen in the past. Is it because of himself?

No way?

When I met him, my face was only five years old, and he was already 28 years old at that time. How could it be?

If it is impossible, then that face is like this.

"Master Song, sorry, something happened. My muscles and bones were injured. I have been recuperating for the past ten years, and now I am completely cured." Yang Zimei said with a little guilty look.

When Song Xuan heard her say she was injured, he tightened his heart. As if someone suddenly reached out to pinch her hard, he couldn't help looking at her with pity, heartache that she was so painful at such a young age. He wanted to reach out and hug her into his arms, but he didn't dare.

He is now a thirty-eight-year-old uncle, and she is only fifteen-year-old young man Ai.

In the past ten years, he has rejected many love affairs, and even rejected a good marriage arranged by his parents for him, even though the other party is gentle, virtuous, beautiful and generous.

He knew clearly that he had been waiting for a small figure to appear.

Now, she appears, but he is old.

I have not been born, but I am old.

When he thinks of this poem, his heart is filled with desolation and helplessness.

I don’t want to be her beloved, I just want to be able to watch her at will.

Thinking of this, his heart suddenly became brighter, his smile became more gentle, exuding the unique charm of a mature man, which made Yang Zimei, who already had the heart of an older young woman, look dazed, but another handsome face in his mind, which is like a lone wolf.

It's been ten years.

The boy named Long Zhutian has grown to twenty-five years old, I don’t know how good it is now!

When she was in a daze, Song Xuan looked at her from the side, watching her two thick, long and slightly raised eyelashes flapping gently like the wings of a butterfly, swelling into his heart, making his heartstrings tremble.

Yang Zimei came back to her senses and noticed Song Xuan's strangeness. Her ears turned slightly red. She hurriedly took out the knife coin she had found and handed it to him, "Master Song, please help me identify whether this has its origin."

Song Xuan took the sword coin, looked carefully, got up and poured a cup of solution, and used a cotton swab to wipe off the ink marks that were originally applied to the coins. On the circle of the silver coin, two brilliant but deep and simple seal and clerical golden characters "Yi Dao", and the sword has three words "Five Thousand" on it.

"How can I repay the bad knives of a beauty who gave me a gold knife? Ying Qiong Yao." Song Xuan suddenly started to recite the poem. His voice was better than Qin Kaiwen, with a deep and continuous love.

However, she didn't understand why he recited this poem to a coin.

However, after he wiped the coin clean, it had a unique charm, ancient and steady shape, and revealed a beautiful and elegant atmosphere. However, she couldn't understand why a coin was not engraved with Tongbao like other coins.

What does this knife mean to scale five thousand?

Once again, she felt that she had a shallow understanding and extremely lack of knowledge.

*【PS】Stay a break and continue with the next chapter later. If you like it, remember to bookmark + subscribe + recommendation + leave a message.
Chapter completed!