My First Husband After Transmigration

Chapter 42

The small building... the jade flute plays a mournful tune...

The characters are small, and due to being rubbed in the hands for a long time, the writing has become somewhat blurred.

Jade flute is cold, flute is cold...

She froze.

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Night had fallen, and the dew in the garden grew heavier, drifting and scattering, creating a misty atmosphere, almost like a light rain, which dampened my hair.

She sat alone on the steps, hugging her knees, feeling very cold.

The sound of jade flutes echoes through the small building, chilling the air.

The phrase I saw during the day resurfaced in my mind—"Let's forget each other in the vast world, and go our separate ways to find our own happiness and joy. That should be a kind of liberation, right?"

But has she really forgotten?

Suddenly, a magnetic voice echoed in my ears again: "There aren't many people in this world who can be easily forgotten."

My fingers unconsciously picked up a small stone and traced it on the ground...

Yang Nianqing wanted to laugh—it was said that her parents had once been deeply in love, and her father had even had a big fight with the family over it. It was ironic that after going through so much to finally be together, they started arguing every day and then got divorced so easily.

Love is so easy to forget.

Both were strong-willed people, and no matter how hard her daughter tried, she couldn't keep the family together. The phrase "letting each other go their separate ways" played out perfectly in their lives. He had a wife, and she had a husband; their meetings were always relaxed and casual, with polite greetings and conversations revolving around their daughter, like familiar yet distant friends.

No, there are still differences... How are they different?

She couldn't explain it.

It's better to forget. In modern times, breaking up is as common as eating a meal. Perhaps that's why modern men and women are happier. Mutual support or mutual forgetting—even if we figured out the answer now, what good would it do?

On the ground, with simple lines, a cartoon rabbit takes shape effortlessly.

She examined it for a moment.

Not bad, quite cute. The point of living is to be happy, why make trouble for yourself?

Just as he was about to stand up—

"It's late at night, why are you still here?" a gentle voice rang out.

Volume Two: A Painting Priceless in the Jianghu (Apart from the Rivers and Lakes)

Updated on Shuxiang Chinese Website: 2008-02-26 10:50:38 Word Count: 4884

Startled by the sudden voice, Yang Nianqing turned to see Nangong Xue, dressed in jade-colored robes, standing gracefully before the steps, his handsome face still possessing its usual kind and captivating charm.

Upon seeing it was him, Yang Nianqing lowered her head and remained silent.

Nangong Xue slowly walked to her side, frowning: "You..."

"There are just some things I've never understood."

Seeing his questioning look, Yang Nianqing expressed her doubts: "I was wondering if Madam Leng was right to let us part ways and forget each other. Actually, I no longer blame them, but I still can't help but want to know the answer."

Nangong Xue remained silent for a moment, then smiled: "Madam Leng is like this, and your parents are like this, they must have their reasons. Since they are happy with themselves, what's the point of you thinking about it?"

Yang Nianqing nodded: "Yes, there are many breakups where we are. Love is like a game. It seems that forgetting is not necessarily a bad thing. At least they are all living well now."

She then joked, "Actually, it has nothing to do with me. I don't even know what I'm thinking."

Nangong Xue looked at her quietly.

Setting aside these distracting thoughts for the moment, Yang Nianqing remembered the important matter. She looked up at him, tugged at the hem of his robe, and asked worriedly, "Brother Nangong, what about Hero Chu...?"

Nangong Xue sadly looked away, refusing to look at her: "She disappeared at the beginning of the month... I'm afraid she's probably in grave danger."

Yang Nianqing shook her head: "The sound of the jade flute echoes through the small building... I don't understand, is she really not sad?"

Nangong Xue frowned and was about to speak when she heard a cold voice say, "I'm not sad."

.

Mrs. Leng.

In his hand, he was holding an ordinary white cloak.

She frowned, walked slowly over, and gently draped the cloak over Yang Nianqing's shoulders. Then, looking at Nangong Xue, she said, "It's chilly at night; you don't need to stand for too long. You should rest early."

Her voice, filled with the loving kindness of an elder, warmed Yang Nianqing's heart and reminded her of her own mother. She wanted them to know that she no longer blamed them, but could she ever go back?

She lowered her head sadly: "Thank you..."

Madam Leng stared at her for a moment, her beautiful eyebrows furrowing, but her eyes brightened: "You should all go to sleep early too."

After saying that, he turned to leave.

Nangong Xue suddenly said, "Madam, please wait!"

She paused, stopped, and turned to the side, somewhat surprised.

Nangong Xue looked at her, her brows furrowed slightly, her expression grave, filled with doubt and confusion: "Has Madam truly forgotten? Will she no longer be sad?"

Madam Leng stared at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

Although it was just a faint smile on her lips, it was enough to melt away the icy look on her face, making her appear both beautiful and kind.

"Since we've already forgotten each other, why should I be sad?"

Nangong Xue continued to look at her without saying a word.

Madam Leng sighed: "We have long since parted ways, but we had an agreement that if one of us passed away first, the other would have to go and see him off, and then live a good life. I am simply keeping that promise."

Hearing this, Yang Nianqing felt relieved. It seemed they had truly become like friends, having "forgotten each other." Even though her husband had been tragically murdered, she could still live peacefully from now on.

Nangong Xue seemed to be deep in thought.

Madam Leng looked at them again and shook her head: "If it is true... I will see him off. Besides, I don't believe he will leave so easily. His swordsmanship is definitely not bad."

No matter how good your swordsmanship is, how can you guard against a sneak attack?

silence.

Nangong Xue finally smiled: "It's good that Madam thinks that way."

Madam Leng seemed to remember something and hesitated, saying, "However, I have been living a nomadic life for many years, and although I am here to see him off, I have not prepared anything. I hope Young Master Nangong can help me tomorrow..."

Nangong Xue nodded: "Don't worry, Madam."

"Thank you very much," she said with a sigh of relief and a slight smile. "You should all go to sleep early."

.

The beautiful figure gradually disappeared into the night.

“Now I know the answer,” Yang Nianqing suddenly smiled and patted Nangong Xue’s shoulder. “She’s right. If you’re unhappy with each other, it’s better to separate sooner rather than later. Forcing yourselves to stay together doesn’t make a family. Why should I be sad? They’ve both found their own happiness. I should be happy for them.”

Nangong Xue smiled. (2a)

After a while.

He suddenly frowned, looked at the painting on the ground, and asked curiously, "What is this?"

"Uh? This is a rabbit."

"A rabbit?" she exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, although it doesn’t quite look like it, it’s still very cute, isn’t it?” Yang Nianqing blinked. “It’s a cartoon drawing.”

"Cartoon drawing?" Nangong Xue examined it carefully for a while, then a gentle and clean smile appeared on his handsome face. "Interesting. How about I draw a few strokes myself?"

He wants to paint? Yang Nianqing was overjoyed. She had never forgotten that the number one philanthropist in front of her was also the number one painter. His paintings were "priceless"!

"It's too cold outside, shall we go inside and paint?"

Nangong Xue nodded: "Alright."

Haha, with one of his paintings, I probably won't have to worry about my future... Yang Nianqing suddenly stood up, grabbed his sleeve, and left.

Surprisingly, Nangong Xue, who was usually very polite and avoided suspicion, did not object to her overly excited actions. She was half pulled by Nangong Xue and half led the way herself, walking towards the study.

.

The study was indeed very elegantly furnished, with a row of writing brushes on the desk, an exquisitely carved ancient inkstone, calligraphy by famous calligraphers on the wall, and a precious sword hanging high on the wall... everything was in line with what a wealthy family should look like.

The two pageboys followed in respectfully, and upon hearing that they did not need to wait for orders, they respectfully withdrew.

Yang Nianqing secretly admired it.

Since returning to Nangong Villa, she noticed that the servants there were all very respectful and careful towards Nangong Xue. It seemed that this gentle man had his own management methods; to be honest, he always exuded an air of authority without needing to be angry.

Sitting down beside the table, Yang Nianqing carefully examined him, then shook her head with an incredulous look: "Brother Nangong, you're usually so gentle, like you can bully anyone, but I never imagined they would all listen to you so much."

Hearing this absurd praise, Nangong Xue smiled without saying a word, but walked to the table and lit a censer of fine sandalwood.

A delicate fragrance wafted through the air.

“The painter just needs to paint,” Yang Nianqing hurriedly stood up and laid out the paper for him. “I’ll grind the ink for you.”

However, she immediately regretted saying it as soon as it left her mouth.

I've never actually ground ink myself; these days, I just buy bottled ink to practice calligraphy.

Nangong Xue, being the person he was, naturally understood the reason when he saw her staring at the inkstone with an embarrassed expression. He suppressed a laugh, took out ink from an exquisite box, and began to teach her.

"There shouldn't be too much water."

He poured some water. (10)

"...Straighten it, gently...slowly..."

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