Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife - Chapter 91.1

“We encountered the Jurchen’s rangers outside the city. They have become increasingly frequent recently, most likely as an outpost, and their people are coming this way.”

Lin Bozhou seemed unconcerned about his eyes as his palm gripped the reins tightly, speaking in a careless tone.

“Yes, since the news was released that An Chui was in Chezhou, his old man went crazy, plotting against Chezhou and jumping at the chance. The troops in Jinzhou have been withdrawn a lot, so it seems he really wants to save this son.”

But Lin Bozhou would not be kind enough to let the enemy get what they wanted.

He planned to pick a sunny, windy day and hang An Chui’s head at the city gate, showing all of the Jurchen what would happen to those who made enemies of the Great Zong.

For the Jurchen, if An Chui were alive, he would be rescued; if he were dead, he would be avenged.

Chen An bowed his head, and the group walked in the wind and snow toward the middle tent, their shadows elongating.

The snow was so heavy that Meng Huan felt a little cold. He reached out with his white palm to catch a few pieces of snow, squatted down, and waited for Lin Bozhou to return from the tent.

A few moments later, a voice sounded in his ear. “Return to the city.”

Lin Bozhou had finished giving instructions and had walked beside him at some point. Nearby, he looked down at Meng Huan, wearing a hood like a small, gray mushroom in the snow.

The little mushroom dawdled to stand up, shaking off the snow on his body, his eyes shining brightly, and stared at him for a while. “Your eyes–”

“The cold wind blew them on the way back. They’re a little red, but it’s not a problem.” Lin Bozhou’s voice was calm.

“Oh.

Since he said so, Meng Huan also could not ask further questions. He just somehow remembered when Lin Bozhou was blind earlier.

But now, in the army, more than 100,000 people were waiting for Lin Bozhou’s order, and thousands of lives depended on him. No one wanted to make the association that the eye disease had recurred, right?

Meng Huan hoped it was merely because the wind had blown his eyes red.

Many people had set up stalls in the streets and were selling things. After hearing that Lin Bozhou was in charge of Chezhou, many people stopped wandering along the way and instead defected to Chezhou in pursuit of a brief period of peace.

The street was about a hundred meters long, and many people were selling fruits and vegetables as well as livestock such as cattle, sheep, chickens, and ducks.

Meng Huan said, “Husband, wait.”

Lin Bozhou let out a “Hmm?” and stopped.

He saw Meng Huan walk quickly to a stall selling pastries. The stall owner was a woman carrying snow-white sticky rice cakes in a basket. The stall was small but clean.

Meng Huan bought a pack of fried sticky rice cakes and returned to Lin Bozhou, saying, “Let’s go home and eat. I often buy sticky rice cakes from this stall; they taste very good.”

Lin Bozhou looked sideways, did not say anything, reached out, and brushed the snow on Meng Huan’s body. “Are you used to living in this city?”

“I’m used to it, but it’s so cold.” When Meng Huan said this, his mouth exhaled white mist.

He was not as useful as Lin Bozhou’s leadership of the three armies. Each day, he cooked the meals in the courtyard, poured the wine, returned in the evening to make him a pot of hot tea, handed him chopsticks, and waited for Lin Bozhou to bathe and help warm the bed, living a quiet small town life.

Lin Bozhou raised his lips and inexplicably smiled.

Furthermore, Meng Huan enjoyed this kind of life.

He felt as if he had completely possessed a part of Lin Bozhou.

“This husband will go home and try it.”

Lin Bozhou took a few steps closer and wanted to hold his hand, but Meng Huan looked around and moved his hand away again. “No, there are people.”

“……”

Lin Bozhou raised his eyes.

A conservative wife it was.

Although Meng Huan said no, his ears were red, and he said, “Hold it in the courtyard.”

Lin Bozhou’s smile deepened.

Back in the courtyard, the small city life of Chezhou was simple, and the servants stood until their hands and feet couldn’t move. Meng Huan walked through the open doorway, shook off the snow on his body, removed his hood, and went to the kitchen to bring up all the warmed meals in the pot.

They were steaming hot.

There was a plate of stir-fried Chinese cabbage.

A bowl of twice-cooked pork.

A plate of boiled mutton.

There was also a fragrant black-boned chicken and mountain mushroom soup smothered in a pot.

Meng Huan’s tone was encouraging. “Eat, eat!”

Lin Bozhou picked up his chopsticks, sipped the soup, and asked Meng Huan how he spent his time while he was away.

“Not bad. I usually look for Zhu Dong to play chess, and when the time comes, return to the courtyard,” Meng Huan felt like a homebody returning home after playing mahjong every day to cook for his wife and children. He added, remembering something else, “I always lose when playing chess with Zhu Dong, that bastard. Husband, help me out. “

The ending note rose, unconsciously acting spoiled.

Although Lin Bozhou thought it was a young boy’s trick and felt it would become the big bullying the small, he still agreed. “Okay, I will find the time to help you win back.”

“I’ll see how he can still be proud.” Meng Huan chucked a chopstick of golden and oily twice-cooked pork into Lin Bozhou’s bowl. “Husband, eat this, eat this! It’s been simmering in the pot for half an hour. The meat is well-cooked and very tasty!”

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