Gu Lian went out with her child in her arms. Preparations for the evening activities had begun outside. Yu Tianyu, the leader of the party, cheered up the atmosphere and made an outdoor hot pot. He set up a pot for the boss by the lake.
The weather at the end of March is a cold time in the imperial capital.
It's easy to catch a cold when playing outdoors, and there were five or six campfires set up alone.
Miya Shiheng is still seriously ill and cannot mess around, so he can only warm himself by the fire in the lakeside hut.
On the other hand, Song Xiang, relying on his good recovery, took Yan Han out to hang out.
Yan Han refused, insisting that she use the wheelchair. She would watch Li Ying make a fire, watch Wang Fuxue prepare ingredients, and worry about whether Yu Tianyu could make hot pot, so she could only push the wheelchair around the venue.
"Are you tired?"
After struggling for a long time, Song Xiang asked Yan Han maliciously.
Yan Han snorted twice and put his cold hands on her face.
Song Xiang screamed, but the seat belt was pulled by Yan Han in her hand, and she couldn't run away.
"Thief, get out of here quickly."
Not only did Yan Han not take it away, he also rubbed her face, "Don't move, I'll rub it for you. The friction will generate heat."
Song Xiang snorted and pulled his hand away.
The two were fooling around, and it was already dark.
Song Xiang looked up and saw something yellow in the glowing place on the rockery.
"Wanmei?"
Yan Han followed her gaze and said, "It should be that your ancestors had good aesthetics."
Song Xiang smiled and squeezed his hand, "Fiancé, pick a flower for me."
Yan Han raised his eyebrows and said, "Sure."
He stretched her safety belt a little longer and tied it to the pillar of the pavilion.
Song Xiang was speechless, "Hey, I'm not a puppy."
"Stay here and don't move."
Song Xiang snorted and put his chin in his hands, "Hurry up."
Yan Han patted her forehead, turned around and quickly went down the steps, her slender figure disappearing into the rocks.
Song Xiang was bored by himself, so he got out of the seat belt after a few clicks and quietly got out of the pavilion.
…
When Yan Han came down from the mountain, there were no people in the pavilion, leaving only an empty wheelchair.
He frowned, "Song Xiang?"
No response.
Not far away, Li Ying heard a voice and shouted, "She's going up the mountain."
Yan Han knocked on the handle of the wheelchair, thought for a moment, put the flowers on the wheelchair, and prepared to go up the mountain to catch the person.
It was late at night, and she had just recovered from illness. If she slipped and fell, it would be no small matter.
Just as he was about to go down, he saw a figure emerging from behind the rocks.
"Hey!"
Song Xiang jumped out suddenly, holding a lantern she didn't know where she got in her hand. The light was dim and yellow, but it had a different flavor when it fell on her face.
"Where did it come from?" Yan Han asked, still planning to go down.
As soon as he took a step, Song Xiang took out something and raised it in his direction.
"Severe cold."
"Um?"
"This is for you."
Yan Han squinted his eyes and looked through the dark night. Through the dim light, he could vaguely see a ring-shaped object.
He reacted and recognized it, it was a woven grass ring.
"You are so shabby," he said.
Song Xiang clicked his tongue, ran over, put down the lantern, took his hand out, and asked him to put it on.
"suitable!"
Yan Yanhan was relieved, and he hugged her and went down the steps, "Stingy bitch."
He put her hand in his pocket, walked towards Yu Tianyu, gave her a bowl of hot soup, and the two sat by the lake to warm themselves by the fire and talk.
"Why did you suddenly give me the ring again?"
"Propose."
Song Xiang took a big sip of soup, turned her face sideways, and smiled at him, her eyes curling into crescents.