Airborne in the daughter country, the baby will be born at the beginning

Chapter 43 [Peeping]
(43)

Walking crookedly to the main gate street of Lin'an Mansion, Wang Xuan was staggering and moving against the wall with the perception left by the strength of alcohol. Sometimes his side face would be touched by invisible and intangible stone walls.

He tried his best to get closer to the corner where the [rhythm] was originally emitted, and a spark leaked out from the narrower and narrower [tunnel].

"It's getting closer..."

Wang Xuan said cautiously, his left index finger seemed to have been accidentally cut by a stone tip, and the [blood drop] that fell on the fingertip did not stop despite his repeated rubbing.

He was aware of the numbness of [the sting pain], but when he lowered his head, it seemed that [anything] was not clear in his eyes except black.

Although the [stumbling blocks] under his feet had already been kicked away one by one by Wang Xuan, he didn't use too much strength, instead he kicked them away gently, so as not to be found out again and make him feel [awake].

The footsteps continue to move forward, and a [wooden house] living in a corner of [Lin'an Mansion] with pure light and color is currently lit with oil lamps.

"The sound came from here..."

He walked through the lung-stopping aisle, feeling a little relaxed. Wang Xuan's black shadow was quietly coming out from the mural. It seemed that the shadows were just like his long-awaited expression, eager to play the score characters.

"It's about being attracted to something [unbelievable]."

The shadow on the dark wall made a movement of [cracking hands], and the eyes that belonged to the depths of the light illuminated it more and more clearly.

Wang Xuan squatted down and slipped under the [screen window] of the wooden house to poke a small hole, stuck out half of his head to watch carefully, his face was as red as the rising sun.

The oil lamp in the room flickered like a ray of jumping meteors, and the next second he thought about it and realized that it was actually a [woman's] figure.

The blazing flames imitate the woman's delicate waist and chest in a heart-stopping way.

Wang Xuan couldn't make a sound, but laying his hands on the outside of the window, sometimes he could see the burning candles through the gap of the stars.

When the red ink drops that fell and gathered on the tabletop, the woman would bend down and twirl the [embers] of the candle and pour them into the iron gate to clean up.

He could take a moment to look at the immature side face of the woman, but the fleeting speed made Wang Xuan's heart tremble.

Glancing back the narrow tunnel was [long] and [dark].

He showed a dubious expression, and raised the cut index finger, which still had traces of blood on it.

With his back against the wooden wall, Wang Xuan felt in a trance alone. The feeling of the cold wind blowing on his face was real and bitter.

He tried to put his index finger on his lips and lick it with the tip of his tongue, "The taste of blood..."

"Very salty…"

The sound of iron knocking in the house stopped immediately, and only [woman]'s familiar Beijing opera tone and full of indignation remained.

The [portrait] drawn on the window screen stretched her toes perfectly, and the woman stood in front of the lights at some point, and her shadow was reflected on the wall of the corridor, posing in various poses.

She bent her body backwards with both knees, her waist was straightened out and her chest was raised to a high place. The side columns of her hands were like a lotus flower blooming on the ground, and then her pelvis was tilted forward, and her lower abdomen was connected to the roots of her thighs slowly. Falling slowly, the ponytail wrapped around the shoulders was messed up and let loose in the center of the half arm.

Her calves trembled tremblingly. She turned her torso and slid her left hand down from her waist to her collarbone. Then her feet were off the ground and her back was close to the ground, crossing and swaying.

The [black shadow] on the wall is more exquisite than the best figure I can imagine, with slender legs and slim waist.

The soles of the feet are the size of [three-inch golden lotus]. Wang Xuan silently appreciates the ever-emerging and ever-changing charming dancing postures from the [ancient murals].

His lips were dry, and he glanced at the dark aisle again.

When the woman panted and completed four or five difficult dance moves, she was too exhausted to move.

Her palms were dark red, her toes were weak, her forehead and back were completely soaked with sweat, and she tilted her head to look at the [beams] of the wooden house, as if she had thought of something.

The expression gets a kind of magical power from [tired and slumped].

When Wang Xuan fixed his eyes on the wall again, the shadows outside the house danced like a fire, and the burning [candle] was easily removed and replaced with white smoke.

The moment the next one was lit, the slanted reflection fell heavily to the ground.

Just hearing the sound of "Boom...", the woman in the room groaned in pain weakly.

Fascinated, Wang Xuan quickly sat up and secretly lay down on the window sill to inquire. Fortunately, the whole picture of [the woman] was clearly seen by him this time.

She was wearing a light green decoration all over her body, the pure color added a special touch to the woman's [face], her legs were tightly clamped together, her brows were slightly wrinkled, and there seemed to be an indescribable sadness in her eyes.

He tried to guess that the woman would choose to continue [practicing] the dance as before.

But after a long silence, the woman stood up after rubbing her bruised buttocks, walked straight to the wooden table and lowered her head to examine the iron box that was already filled with [wax powder].

She bit her lips lightly, tears flowed from her eyes, and soon the tears were like a dry river being diluted by the surrounding soil full of weeds.

Wang Xuan stretched his neck slightly and accidentally missed the time when she was crying, and the only reflection on the wall disappeared in an instant.

He squatted down halfway, his face paled, and he turned his head and poked the [hole] a little wider.

In order to better observe the woman's next [movement], Wang Xuan became interested in this [eager for success] woman in front of him.

Another corner of the house is full of [iron wares] that attracted me to come. There are various styles, at least there are several major categories such as pipa, thunder drum, flute and xylophone.

I saw the woman picking up the strings and fiddled with them twice, and the yawns could not be stopped.

"It's going to be late at night at least..."

The woman stretched her waist, and she was so sleepy that she couldn't train harder.

She took off her clothes, and the light blue underwear was gradually exposed outside her fair skin.

Maybe she didn't know that there was a [drunk] guy hiding outside the window at this time, watching her every move.

But fortunately, Wang Xuan didn't intend to be a [pervert] or a [pervert].

He slowly got up and stared at the woman who was posing in an arc, and even had an association.

"[Xiao Li] why [Zi Shi] is willing to sleep?"

Through the hole of the screen window, a beam of light is shot to the ground, and the night is like a calm lake with ripples.

The fireflies rushed towards his face from all directions, Wang Xuan was not excited.

When facing the [resurrected] Xiao Li, I was really shocked when I first saw her side face, but the [system] showed [this person's name is: Feng Dan].

"Is it someone who [looks the same]..."

"Or is there really an identical face in the world?"

Seeing that the candles in the room were extinguished, Wang Xuan didn't dare to stay any longer.

He stooped back into the narrow tunnel and listened to the howling wind.

In the middle of the night, the wind was already raging, and as for his scratched fingertips, the pain was extraordinary.

(End of this chapter)