As Zichuan Niang said these words, Mu Zichuan and Yang Ruoqing, who were in the same room, both knew that she was forcing marriage in another way.
Yang Ruoqing pretended not to hear, stood beside the bed and leaned over to tug at the quilt on the bed.
Muzichuan was a little embarrassed. He told his mother, "Mom, you will live a long life. Don't say those words about life and death. It's unlucky."
Zichuan Niang twitched her lips, "Just change the subject with me. Every time I talk to you about marriage, you think of ways to get rid of me."
"Today, in front of your sister Qing'er, you can give me a clear explanation. When will I see you marrying a wife? Can I still see you in this lifetime? Just give me a clear explanation. !" she said.
Mu Zichuan blushed and glanced at Yang Ruoqing, who had turned around. His eyes flickered and he felt guilty. For a moment, he wanted to find a crack in the ground to drill into.
"Mom, hurry up, hurry up..." he muttered.
Zichuan Niang said: "It's almost there? How long can it be soon? Every time I ask you, you always say it's almost there. Now Tang Yazi's child, who is the same age as you, is nine years old and has not been seen." For your wife’s sake!”
Mu Zichuan could only laugh along awkwardly.
"I have an idea, I really have an idea..." He murmured.
Zichuan Niang said: "Any clues? Don't always use this sentence to prevaricate me!"
"In the past few years, you have said that you have an eye for me, but my mother has never seen you bring half a girl to your house." She continued.
"Zichuan, it doesn't matter whether you are tall or short, fat or thin, black or white,"
"Don't worry about the background of your mother's family. As long as the woman is gentle and virtuous, and can take care of your daily life, so that you can have hot meals and hot dishes to eat when you come back from outside, you will be satisfied as your mother!"
"You are almost 30 years old now, and you are still alone. Mother looks at you and feels distressed!"
"Mom can't take care of you for the rest of your life. When the time comes, I'll close my eyes and kick off my feet and walk away. If you are left alone, I won't have peace down there."
"If you start a family as soon as possible, my mother will be relieved even if she dies!"
Zichuan Niang took Mu Zichuan's hand and spoke with sincerity, word for word.
Muzichuan lowered his head, like a child who had done something wrong. Apart from nodding his head like a chicken pecking at rice, and occasionally saying "um", he couldn't say anything else.
But Yang Ruoqing, who was a bystander on the side, watched and listened, and her eyes suddenly turned red.
Poor parents in the world, the godmother is suffering from an incurable disease, but this heart still hangs on Mu Zichuan.
In the world, mother's love and father's love are truly the greatest, and no words can express even a ten thousandth of it!
Zichuan Niang's face gradually showed a tired look.
At this moment, the bed was made, and Mu Zichuan discussed this with his mother: "Mom, please have a good rest. My son is not going anywhere. He will stay with you at home."
Zichuan Niang nodded and looked at Yang Ruoqing again: "The bed made by my goddaughter looks comfortable, so I'll take a nap and you can do it yourself, Qing'er."
Yang Ruoqing nodded: "Godmother, you can go to sleep. I will make millet porridge and snacks for you later at night."
Zichuan Niang smiled lovingly and nodded.
Yang Ruoqing helped her to the bedside and knelt down to help her take off her shoes. Seeing the well-made and exquisitely stitched shoes on Mrs. Zichuan's feet, she couldn't help but think of the shoes that Mrs. Zichuan had given her Luo Baobao in the past few years. The other two kids make so many shoes for all seasons.
Even the shoes she was wearing at the moment were given to her by Lady Zichuan. The patterns embroidered on them made even masters like Sun and Ping'er unable to help but praise them when they saw them.
Needlework style is just like writing. Everyone can write, but everyone's handwriting has a very different style.
This represents the character of the person who writes the pen. In the same way, the number of stitches can also reflect the temperament of the woman holding the needle.
Sun's is simple but solid.
Ping'er's exquisite and beautiful.
As for Zichuan Niang, the evaluation given by Sun and Ping'er is that Zichuan Niang is a person with an exquisite heart.
Yang Ruoqing felt sour and depressed at the thought of never wearing shoes like this again.
But she still raised her head and said to Zichuan Niang: "My mother and aunt also miss you godmother very much. My mother asked me to send you a message to let you have a good rest. They will wait for tomorrow morning. Just come over and talk to you.”
Everyone understands that it is inconvenient to visit in the afternoon.
Zichuan's mother said: "This season is busy with farming. Your mother and your aunt are both very busy people. You can go back and tell them for me. I won't worry about it. Let them be busy with things first. Come and sit down when you have free time." That’s it.”
Yang Ruoqing smiled obediently: "Well, I will definitely bring the message to you."
Zichuan Niang fell asleep soon after lying down.
Yang Ruoqing and Mu Zichuan stood in the west room for a moment, then lowered the curtain, quietly exited the west room, and came to the east room to tidy up Mu Zichuan's bedding.
"It's been a while since my mother spoke so many words at once like she did today. Maybe she had a full meal at noon and has a little more energy!"
Mu Zichuan and Yang Ruoqing said in a low voice, "Qing'er, thanks to you, my mother has a great appetite. When the bedding is laid out later, I want to ask you for advice on how to cook!"
Yang Ruoqing raised her eyebrows and looked at Mu Zichuan in disbelief.
"Did I hear you correctly? A grown man like you actually wants to learn cooking skills? If I remember correctly, someone once said: A gentleman should stay away from the chef!" she teased.
Mu Zichuan blushed and said, "This time, that time."
"My mother is sick, and a son should be at bedside to take care of her illness, but I can't even boil a pot of water. No matter how many books I read, what's the use?"
"The third son of Emperor Gaozu of the Han Dynasty, Emperor Wen, was first granted the title of King of the Dai Dynasty. His mother Bo was weak and sick, and Emperor Wen spent three years without taking off her clothes to serve the soup."
"It is said that he had to taste every bowl of soup himself before letting his mother eat it with confidence."
"There was a learned man in the Wei and Jin Dynasties. He was like me. His father passed away early, and he was dependent on the widow to support him."
"The widow was afraid of thunder when she was alive. After her death, she was buried in the mountains and forests behind the village. Whenever there was thunder and rain, the widow would run to his mother's grave and kneel down to comfort her."
"Let his mother not be afraid. She has a son like him by her side."
"I'm sorry for my parents, who worked hard to give birth to me. I'm sorry for my parents, who worked hard to give birth to me. My father gave birth to me, and my mother bowed to me. I cared for me, raised me and nurtured me. I want to repay the virtue, Haotian is extremely ignorant."
"So, from today on, I, Mu Zichuan, will cook in person and serve my mother personally!"
He puffed out his chest and his eyes were blazing.
Seeing his unswerving look, Yang Ruoqing showed some appreciation on her face.
"The tree wants to be quiet but the wind doesn't stop; the child wants to be raised but cannot be kissed." Yang Ruoqing said.
"Zichuan, since you have made up your mind, I will naturally help you. When I help you make the bed, I will teach you how to make porridge. Let's start with the simplest one."
"I believe that with your qualifications, you will be able to get through it in just one click!"
