Clear and Muddy Loss of Love (MTL) (1)

1

The white clouds are lush, the green grass is lush, and the wind is blowing, setting off blue ripples.

The sky seemed to have been washed carefully, and the blue was refreshing.

The air is filled with the fragrance of the grassland after the rain, refreshing.

At the end of the sky is a blue-green line, soft and light.

In the endless blue color, clusters of cotton-like white are wriggling-three or five rough prairie warriors ride steeds, wield their long whip, and sip bright horns to drive the flock.

Suddenly, an aggressive team rushed out from the depths of the grassland, and the dull horseshoe sound came from far away.

A disgusting warrior in animal skins took the lead: he wore a wide-brimmed forehead, a beard, his feet glaring at the saddle, leaned forward, and struck his horse with his one-handed reins frequently, waving his whip frequently, his eyes showing joy and anxious.

"Drive!" The lead man seated his horse and hissed, his head widened again with the dark crowd behind him.

The steed's long mane and the man's black hair fluttered in the wind, one person and one horse revealing wildness.

Rushing face to face, riding on a few feet outside, turning over, and kneeling on one knee.

The man held the reins, and the subsequent warriors stopped behind him, none of them taking a half step.

"What's the matter?" The man's voice was loud, full of energy.

"It's sweaty, but Dun is about to give birth!"

The dark horse was like an arrow off the string, and a "swipe" ran across the kneeling man and ran forward.

There are still three days before the day the witch doctor deduced. He and his team rid the insurgents at the fastest speed. It was too late to rush back day and night.

The man ran unimpeded all the way to the big tent before jumping off the horse. The prairie people gathered outside the tent had one right knee and fisted into their hearts: "See sweat."

Only six people saluted him, saying, "Sweat."

There was a painful hissing in the tent, and the man's eyes showed a delicate grief that was extremely inconsistent with the appearance. He came to the big tent but was stopped by the witch doctor: "Sweat, Madam is giving birth and you can't enter."

The man's eyes flickered, and his gaze turned into a sharp sword.

The witch doctor stunned aside, and the man grunted, and stepped into the big tent.

A loud cry came, and the man rushed to the bed with a lunge: "Girl, how are you?"

When the woman saw someone trying to rip the corners of the mouth, the dark Yun Yun was wet with sweat and stuck to her face. His face was also extremely pale, but those clear eyes, weakness could not hide the aura inside.

The woman whispered lowly: "Sweat." Only two words revealed a tenderness that was not part of the grassland.

The tall man simply knelt down on the bed next to the bed, holding the woman's face, and clumsily wiped the sweat from her face. Rough fingers contrast sharply with delicate skin: "I'm late."

"Sweat, son or daughter?"

The man only glanced back and said, "It's our son, our first son."

A relieved smile bloomed on the woman's face, her eyes closed weakly. The man first sniffed out his breath before pulling back, pulling the animal fur blanket for her.