Born a phoenix? The husband I picked up is the young emperor

Chapter 2214

Nan Yan's parents were still living in the old capital, unaware of their daughter's impending marriage. As long as they didn't default on the ten taels of silver they gave as a tribute every year, they wouldn't bother her.

Nan Yan was willing to pay ten taels to buy a peace of mind for her life, but forget about anything more.

Before Nan Yan got married, Shi Anxia said to her, "Nan Yan, remember one thing, you are marrying a person, not a shackle."

"If he treats you like a pearl, you will grow old with him. If he treats you like dust... come back and I will support you."

This is the armor that Madam made for her personally. Nan Yan hugged Madam and cried bitterly, "Madam, why are you so good to me?"

Shi Anxia smiled but did not answer.

Bei Hui, Dong Zhi, Xi Yue, and Hong Que all answered with a smile, "Because Madam is so good to us...hahahahaha..."

There were tears in that smile. Each of them was a treasure in Madam's heart. Madam would not let them suffer the slightest injustice.

When the peonies bloomed, Nan Yan married into the Song family.

Later, the Song family moved from a small courtyard into a spacious mansion. No matter how the layout of the courtyard changed, they would always deliberately set aside a piece of space and carefully plant various kinds of peonies.

The Song Shenzhi brothers passed the imperial examination and ranked second and third respectively. They overcame all obstacles along the way and climbed to higher positions.

The two of them had served as deputies to all the important cabinet officials of the time, from the confidential counselor of the chief minister, to the criminal and financial adviser of the second minister, to the military assistant of the Grand Secretary of the Dongke.

When every superior left office, he wished he could "put them in his sleeves and take them away."

They became the two "master keys" in the imperial city, able to unlock the nine mysteries and solve the accumulated problems of hundreds of government offices, but they were always relegated to the position of deputy, without the title of being in charge of the government, but with the actual power to establish the throne.

In addition, Song Shenzhi was a well-known "flower maniac" in Beijing. No matter how delicate the flowers and trees were, in his hands, dead branches could sprout new buds and sick plants could be revived.

He is good at painting peonies.

People only think that he is a great man who has established his power in the imperial court, but they don't know that under the red and purple dragon robe, those hands that stir up the wind and clouds, their most gentle destination is to open a flowery step under the moon for his wife, to plant the east wind every year, and to guard a garden of peonies to welcome the spring.

Nan Yan was immersed in a sweet and peaceful life. She still worked for the lady for most of the year, earning a monthly salary.

Song Shenzhi built a small courtyard on the bank of the Luocheng River in Liang State, which was across the river. The courtyard had green tiles and white walls, and a boat could be seen through the window.

We each pursue our own future and share the hardships.

Under every eaves where the southern geese stay, new soil will be turned and new buds will break through the soil.

Peonies are either in bud or in full bloom, just like Song Shenzhi's unspoken confession: When you are not around, I will come to wait for you with spring.

The peonies in the courtyard bloom brightly year after year. Nan Yan asked Song Shenzhi, "Husband, why are you so good to me?"

Song Shenzhi replied, "Because... I'm afraid that next time you cook noodles for me, you'll get angry and not put the fried egg in it."

The children who were eavesdropping outside the window immediately covered their mouths and laughed. From then on, they knew that their father, who was so powerful in the court and feared by all the officials, was secretly most afraid that his mother would withhold the golden fried egg in the bowl of noodles.

Song Shenzhi held his wife's hand, the tip of his brush hovering above the rice paper. He had promised to teach her calligraphy every day, and he had kept his promise.

But Nan Yan was not the type to practice calligraphy. While writing, she would fall asleep in her husband's arms.

Song Shenzhi smiled and lowered his head, then gently picked up Nan Yan and put her into the tent.

She was like a drop of ink, dripping into his heart, grinding into his bones and blood, and from then on being written into the morning and evening lamplight of his years.

He wanted to watch the peony flowers bloom with her, grow old together, and never be separated.