Chapter 469: A Stranger: Xiang King’s Dream Goddess No Heart 02

Chapter 469

Huai An was afraid the little girl would anger the moody young master of his own family, and wanted to hold her away.

Zhao Changdu, however, gave him a cold sideways glance, put his arm around the little girl with one hand, and sat up.

The wounds on his body ached badly, he knitted his brows, held the little girl in his arms, his cold and aloof handsome young face in the dim firelight was vague and ambiguous.

The little girl was not afraid of strangers at all. Her pink dress that was gradually turning white, her short stature, and her exquisitely carved, beautiful little face, her skirt flared out in the young man's arms, like a cherry blossom that had bloomed in March on a stretch of dark and vigorous withered branches.

The little milk-white dumpling held the young man’s clothes tightly, her pair of black eyes stared at his face unwaveringly.

"Brother, you won't die, will you?"

"I won't."

"Why is your clothes so...red?" The little one couldn't find the right words, tilted her head, "red?"

"It's blood."

"What is blood?"

Zhao Changdu smiled to himself, the innocent and pure eyes of the child were like a clear fountain that could be seen to the bottom, making people feel complicated.

He paused for a moment, swallowed the heaviness in his throat, and forced back the heat that welled up in his eyes, "When the knife cuts through the skin, blood will flow out of the body."

He picked up a twig casually and cut a slit on his wrist. Bright red droplets rushed out from the wound. "This is blood."

"Ah!" The little girl hurriedly covered it with her little hands, her big eyes full of worry, "Let me blow on it for you! Blowing makes it stop hurting!"

Zhao Changdu laughed. "Huai An."

Huai An hurriedly took out gold sore medicine gauze and other items to bandage him, "Young master, you really are scaring little girls, you can’t really hurt yourself, besides, don’t you already have enough wounds on your body?"

Zhao Changdu chuckled lightly, "Just teaching her something."

The little girl pouted her red lips, "Bad guy! If you hurt yourself like this, daddy and mommy will be sad when they know it!"

Zhao Changdu's brow quirked lightly, his tone casual, "They won't care about me."

Seeing him, she probably knew he was the notorious hoodlum in Bianjing, and hurried away in fright with the little girl.

That morning, the dawn had just spilled onto the streets of Bianjing. The steamed bun shops on the street side were steaming, but everywhere else was icy cold. Under the eaves, icicles hung upside down.

He watched as the little girl slept so soundly in the wet nurse's arms. He didn't know what he was thinking in his heart, only that a warmth surged up.

Huai An said, "Young master, do you want me to ask which family the little girl is from?"

Zhao Changdu settled his mind and shook his head, "No need to ask."

Huai An scratched his head and looked back at the sleeping little dumpling, feeling regretful in his heart.

In recent years, after the mansion of Prince Zhenguo was controlled by that wicked woman, and the Prince didn't care about the young master, there were too few people who could give warmth to the young master. This little girl was the first one who could make the young master sleep so well.

Zhao Changdu stood tall in the wind, snow flakes falling on the black iron spear in his arms. His posture was lazy, but his aura was compelling.

"Young master, shall we go back to the manor now?"

"No, let's go to the border to find grandfather."

With that said, he turned and left without looking back.

The master and servant each rode a horse, passing by the deserted temple. The young man only glanced sideways and then retracted his gaze.

If...

If he had known that the little girl would be tortured for ten years in this deserted temple in the future, and finally end her miserable life, he thought, he would have come back earlier from the border, and would have married her no matter what.

It took ten years for Zhao Changdu to return from this trip.

On the day he returned to the capital to report for duty, he rode on horseback into the city.

It was still a bitterly cold winter day, and the snow in Bianjing was unprecedentedly heavy.

The man wore a long black robe, embroidered with dark phoenix patterns on the cloak, setting off his cold and resolute face like cold jade.

In the vast snow, he passed a low-key and simple carriage.

Sitting in the carriage was a young married woman who had just recently wed. Perhaps because the snow made the roads slippery, the carriage had broken down halfway.