Wife Can't Escape

Chapter 81

Song Luan could remember some things, which were all in her dreams. It was both intermittent and long, but every time she woke up, she couldn't remember very clearly, and her brain would hurt after thinking too much. As time went by, Song Luan was not willing to continue to think about it.

Song Luan was a little dependent on Zhao Nanyu. It was cold in late autumn. She always hugged him at night, and her whole body arched into his arms to get some warm heat.

As long as Zhao Nanyu didn't force her to say that she likes him, Song Luan felt that she could live like this.

However, Song Luan noticed Zhao Nanyu's restraint these days. He didn't talk much these days. So, they often had nothing to say together.

Song Luan couldn't tell whether this was a world in a book. It didn't matter if it was. She couldn't go back to modern times.

After becoming a powerful official in the book, Zhao Nanyu only cared about power and was not very interested in women. He would return from the palace very late every day, and would not say even a few words with the original female lead.

Song Luan felt that she hadn't seen a man other than Zhao Nanyu for a long time. Before, there would have been his counselors or students visiting the residence to talk about things.

Song Luan still remembered the elegant and handsome scholar who she saw by the window that day.

After he vomited blood that time, Zhao Nanyu's time with her in the room had become longer. He hugged her all day long, and his fear of long absence even reached into Song Luan's mind. She felt that Zhao Nanyu's possessiveness had reached its peak, and was even reluctant to let her leave him for half a step.

Zhao Nanyu had already agreed to let her see little Zhao, but with a condition, he would teach her to write well.

Song Luan couldn't understand the complicated font of the dynasty. They were as difficult to understand as the seal script, and they were very complicated to write. She only recognized the simple ones, and she only read picture books with few words.

Therefore, Song Luan still had a headache when practicing calligraphy.

However, Zhao Nanyu, who stood by the window to write and read a book, looked like he was enjoying himself. The windowpane was propped up, and the golden sun rushed to sprinkle on his bright face. He was wearing a crescent colored robe, with a jade crown and hair, delicate features, and a blue sachet tied around his waist.

This sachet was embroidered by Song Luan, and her embroidery work was in a mess. Naturally, the sachet was not very good. When Zhao Nanyu took it out to wear it, she lost her temper and said that she would lose his face, but he did not care.

Zhao Nanyu raised his face and waved to her, "Come here, I'll teach you how to write."

Song Luan ran to his side and was held in his arms. His broad and warm palms tightly wrapped her small hands and taught her to write one by one.

Song Luan turned her face slightly and asked curiously, "What's the meaning of this word?"

Instead of answering, Zhao Nanyu asked her, "Do you remember how to write it?"

Song Luan shook her head and replied truthfully, "No."

Only once, how could she remember?

In a trance, Song Luan always felt that this was the first time they had such a quiet leisure time before. He taught her to practice calligraphy hand by hand. And he would smile calmly towards her even though she did not know what she said to him.

On second thought, it seemed to be her imagination again.

Zhao Nanyu took the trouble to teach her over and over again. He was very patient. Song Luan's wrist was sour and wanted to drop her pen and say no more.