Chapter 570 Our Microcosm (1)
In all fairness, even Long Yutian, whom she has always hated to see, is perfect without any flaws in him.
But the more noble a man is, the less he will belong to any woman.
Just like what Tuoba Sheng said, he can only love her forever, but he can't escape the three thousand beauties in the harem.
Now, Long Yutian naturally wouldn't say that even Xiao Si, as a prince, would have wives and concubines in groups in the future.
Ordinary people want to be rich and powerful, and even want to enter the palace gate.
But they don't know that this kind of ordinary life and peaceful enjoyment are fulfilling and sweet, but that is beyond the reach of the royal family!
Thinking of this, Qian Duoduo couldn't help but secretly glanced at Long Muchen beside him, biting his lip, as if he was a little uneasy.
At this time, Long Muchen was also staring at her eyes. When he saw the little girl's eyes, when he looked at the old couple opposite, his eyes were stained with mist. He held Qian Duoduo's hand tightly, with the same tenderness as always in his deep black eyes.
"If one day I can take off the heavy responsibilities on my shoulders, I will open a small tea shop in a thatched cottage, or a snack bar. I will bring my only wife and integrate into this ordinary and happy life. I gossiping with these people during the day and watching the children happily at night."
Speaking of this, Long Muchen deliberately paused, his eyes kept focusing, which contained infinitely deep meaning, each word was clear to the bone.
"I only want to win the heart of one person, and the white head will never be separated."
Qian Duoduo didn't speak, but just looked at Long Muchen's slightly parted thin lips, and the little hand that he held tightly in the palm of his hand, squirmed twice, and clenched his big palm with his backhand.
Standing behind them, Long Yintian watched the small movements between the two of them carefully. He moved his body slightly to block the third brother's sight.
In the world of Duo'er and Fourteenth Uncle, there will always be only each other, he can only stand far away, as if he can't even find his own place.
Just when Long Yintian was a little sad in secret, another old man in coarse linen came running in front of him, holding a large coarse porcelain bowl in his hand, standing on the stall.
"Ping'er, give me a bowl of tofu flower."
Ping'er is the boudoir name of the old lady, it's always a bit strange to be called by another man besides her husband.
But looking at the faces of the old couple, there was nothing unnatural, especially for Lao Om, who personally served a bowl of bean curd for the coarse cloth old man.
Looking at the few copper coins handed over by the coarse cloth old man, the old man waved his hand and said carelessly: "We have been friends for decades, don't come to this nonsense, you snatched my wife when you were young, and you didn't see you like this when you came to my house to earn a living. Now that you are old, you know how to be polite."
It turned out to be a rival in love! Long Yintian stretched his head, he likes to watch!
The old man scratched his head in embarrassment, and then took out a hairpin from his cuff: "Pinger's birthday will be in two days, and I thought I don't have anything to give. Just now at the stall, I saw this hairpin at a glance. Let it be a gift for Pinger."
"This is so embarrassing." Ping'er's old lady politely refused.
"What are you sorry for? He has eaten so many bowls of tofu flower from us, what's the matter with a hairpin from him?" The old man snatched the hairpin and carefully inserted it on the old woman's head.
The style of the hairpin is very simple, and the workmanship is also very rough, but Pinger's head with white hair on the temples has a unique beauty after years of precipitation.