How did finding a wife for the villain become giving away a husband?

[Carriage, carriage, my ancestors, please move your noble feet and get out of the way!]

[It’s over, it’s over…] The system clutched its little heart, feeling that its life was about to end.

One of the carriage horses was frightened and was running wildly.

"Master, this painting is quite artistic. Where are you... um? " He Lang turned around, but saw that the person next to him had disappeared.

The calligraphy and painting in his hand fell immediately. No way, if this gentleman disappeared, his head would be in danger.

When he hurriedly went to look for someone, he saw Mo Rong'an holding a young man.

The man was wearing a moon-white robe and a fox fur coat. His facial features were as delicate as a painting, his skin was as white as snow, revealing an unhealthy whiteness, and his face was angular, every inch of it was just right.

He was a little thin and coughed from time to time. His delicate eyebrows and eyes showed a hint of fatigue, and his pale lips were bloodless.

It's like a person who is terminally ill.

The hand around Mo Rongan's neck was slender, soft and boneless, fair and well-proportioned, with joints glowing with a cold white luster, and every move showed elegance.

It would have been better if that person was not held in Mo Rong'an's arms. What was even more outrageous was that that person actually rested his head on Mo Rong'an's shoulder.

He looks like a little bird.

He Lang: “…….”

Song Wenjing was walking while listening to the system, but he saw a violent carriage in front of him, and he wanted to avoid it directly.

But when Song Wenjing saw the man next to him, he stopped immediately and looked at the man who was looking at him with weak and pitiful eyes.

"Young Master..." he murmured.

The frail body was swayed by a gust of wind.

The next second, he fell into someone's arms, "Cough cough cough... Young Master..." As if afraid that this person would abandon him, he tightly grasped his clothes with both hands.

He smells so good, Song Wenjing thought as he leaned weakly on his shoulder.

Mo Rongan felt the warmth in his arms and was stunned. He had just wanted to watch the excitement, but he hadn't expected to save this person.

"You...don't talk." Since he had already saved her, he couldn't just abandon her. Thinking of this, he held her in his arms and walked into the restaurant.

"Sorry to trouble you, sir, cough..." Song Wenjing leaned his head back in a comfortable position with peace of mind.

"Master, who is he?" He Lang walked over and said. In fact, what he wanted to say was, why should we pick up this person?

Doesn't he have no legs?

How could this person, who is so frail, not have any followers around him?

"Go find a doctor." Mo Rong'an ignored him and walked straight towards the restaurant.

"This..." He Lang hesitated. He always felt that this person had ulterior motives.

Song Wenjing looked up and saw He Lang's reluctant expression. He said sensibly, "Sir... no need. I know you have a good heart, but we are just strangers."

"How could I trouble you to find a doctor for me? Please put me down. I will wait here for my servant to come and pick me up."

"Ahem...even though I'm seriously ill now, it's okay. Ahem...if I die, it's my fate. It's a pity that I can't repay your kindness, sir."

Mo Rong'an: "...Don't say anything." He paused, and glanced at He Lang coldly, "Why? Now I... what I said is no longer effective?"

He hated this person for saying the word "death"!

He Lang: "...I'll go right away." After saying that, he clasped his fists and left quickly.

"Thank you, sir. You are so kind-hearted. I am so lucky to meet you." Song Wenjing's last word was prolonged as if he was saying a love word.

Mo Rongan: “…Yeah.” It’s a bit weird.

When Xiaolu received the news that his son's illness had relapsed, he rushed over in a hurry, and then saw his son chatting with a man in a low voice.

The corners of his mouth remained slightly raised, and his whole body seemed to be glowing. From time to time, he shyly lowered his head, saying words of gratitude.

Is this my son?

"My name is Song Wenjing, and my home is not far from here. Are you here for fun? Staying in a restaurant would be a waste of money."

"It just so happens that I have an empty room at home, young master." Song Wenjing held Mo Rong'an's hands and said sincerely, "Why don't you come to my house?"

"I felt a sense of familiarity from the moment I met you. Goodbye... Well, then, we're friends now. Staying at a friend's house makes perfect sense."

"Sir, please come live in my house! I haven't had many friends since I was a child, and I just want to find a close friend. The moment I saw you, I was sure."

System: […….] If you didn't know better, you'd think I was confessing my feelings.

nausea!

He Lang: “…” Why did he have the feeling that Song Wenjing was attracted to His Majesty?

"No need, my master is not short of money." He Lang refused.

Xiaolu looked at the young master's worthless appearance, stamped his feet fiercely, and reminded him: "Young master, our room has not been cleaned yet."

"It would be so rude if this gentleman came."

Song Wenjing: "There are so many people at home, can't we just clean up a room?"

Fawn: “…Oh.”

Seeing that Mo Rong'an hadn't answered yet, He Lang said cautiously, "Sir, this restaurant is actually quite good. It's cheaper than other restaurants and the environment is great."

"Going to Young Master Song's house would be too much trouble for him." What conspiracy does this person have that he actually invites His Majesty to his home?

Mo Rongan: "I am indeed here for sightseeing, and I have almost spent all the money I brought with me. If you don't mind, then I will respectfully obey your command."

"I am Mo Rong'an." He wanted to see what tricks this person was trying to play.

Song Wenjing: "Great!"

Xiaolu, He Lang: "Huh?!"

He Lang thought to himself: Your Majesty, when have you ever been short of money? Could it be that the treasury is empty as outsiders say? That's impossible.

Your Majesty just raided the minister's house a while ago, so he should be rich! How could he not even have money to stay in a restaurant now?

After a stick of incense.

He Lang stood in front of the Song Mansion with a lot of bags, and the little deer beside him looked at him sadly.

The little deer said sarcastically, "Oh! You come here to have fun and you don't even have money. How shabby!"

He Lang replied unyieldingly, "...So what? My young master isn't as pitiful as yours. He just keeps coughing when he's walking."

"One moment you need my young master to support you, the next moment you need my young master to hold you. How dare you be so shameless? You talk as if you are in need of someone."

I originally wanted to call Mo Rong'an Master, but unexpectedly I received a warning. I had no choice but to call him Young Master.

"Who do you think is trying to act pitiful? My young master is already weak, so he had no other choice."

"Oh! Look, you've already admitted it. You have so many followers at home, but you have to trouble my young master."

When Xiaolu heard him slandering his own young master, if he didn't have something in his hand, he would have wanted to slap this person.

"Tsk~ If you have the guts, leave the Song Mansion."

He Lang: "...Me."

Song Wenjing sat in the carriage, his body always uncontrollably falling towards Mo Rongan. After falling into Mo Rongan's arms, he said with a guilty look on his face:

"Mr. Mo, I'm sorry..." He said as he struggled to get up, but his body didn't allow it and he fell down again.

"Well……."