The Lady's Sickly Husband

C115. An End of the Connection

With nothing to do, she raised the carriage curtain and looked out.

As the 15th passed, the weather began to turn warmer, the red bright sun hanging up high in the sky and the snow melting.

Finally, the snow started to melt, and the golden sunrays edged the snow with a golden lace. Mo Qianxue was in a better mood. With this, in the near future, the valley could witness the start of construction.

When the snow was melting, the road was slipper than usual, so the carriage drove not fast. Yet, since there wasn't delay, by the time they got back to the Wang village, it was exactly for lunch.

When the carriage arrived, Ning Shaoqing was staring up under the big tree at the yard gate, looking as if his mind had left this turbid worldly earth and travelled beyond the sky...

His face wasn't as bleak as in the morning, and the furrowed eyebrows were loosened too. The feeble yet upright body standing under the tree carried an air of refresh and graceful. As chilly wind blew, the inky hair floated in the air and then swirled down like completing certain dance.

As the wind blew Ning Shaoqing's clothes and hair, it also blew off the snowflakes yet to melt off the tree branches to join in the dance.

A big tree in the courtyard, the wind, the dancing snow, and the elegant and stern handsome man...

When the carriage approached, Ning Shaoqing, standing there, his long and slender hands crossing behind his back, didn't notice. Yet, Mo Qianxue was fascinated by the picture and remained so even when she disembarked the carriage.

As Mo Qianxue walked to him, Ning Shaoqing finally turned back to look at her, with a gaze carrying bottomless rolling lovesickness in the depth of his eyes...

The lovingly stern way that he stared at her made Mo Qianxue suddenly be in the mood for poetry. She grinned at him, "fairy snow, fairy snow/ blowing, blowing everywhere/ would that I/ too, could fly/ lightly, lightly through the air/ like a wee, crystal star/ I should drift, I should blow/ near, more near/ to my dear/ where he comes through the snow."

Hearing this, Ning Shaoqing smiled and took her hand, raising eyebrow, "Lady Ning is a poet?"

Only when Asan, Awu and Tong Zijing's servant were present did Ning Shaoqing called her lady. And when the couple stayed alone with each other, the addressing term changed.

Usually, he would call her Qianxue, or the dearer Xue, or the teasing Xuexue.

"Lady Ning isn't a poet. But she learned some in the past and can recite a few of them." Mo Qianxue laughed.

"I understand. It's good to recite a few poems." Ning Shaoqing wore a light smile, "A good poem that you just recited. It should be a work of a famous poet. I've never heard of this poem; so could you tell me the writer?"

"Umm... I forget." Mo Qianxue was surprised. She remembered that it was a poem of Sara Teasdale, but if she told him the name, he would probably ask further who Sara Teasdale was, so she chose to tell him that she forgot so as to avoid troubles.

When the couple chatted, Mingyue and Caixia also got off the carriage and glanced around inquiringly, but they remained standing well-behaved, which made Mo Qianxue very satisfied.

She had to admit that nanny Mu was a good discipliner. Their contracts and the information that she got in the carriage proved that they had been sold to nanny Mu a month ago, and now their manners and behaviors were poles different from ordinary coarse country women.

Seeing Mo Qianxue didn't want to linger on poetry, Ning Shaoqing let it go and looked into the direction along her sight. There stood two girls, and he asked with a smile, "They are the servants you bought in the city?"