The Runaway Wife of the Godfather of the Republic of China

Chapter 137 A Trip to Nanjing (2)
Mr. Wu opened the medical box next to him, took out the pulse pillow, and motioned Ye Qingran to stretch out his right hand.

Qingran only felt that the old gentleman's cool fingers were quite powerful.

The room was so quiet that there was not even a sound of breathing.

Tang Chengxun stared closely at Mr. Wu's finger that signaled his pulse.

The old man pondered for a moment, "Madam has a deficiency of spleen and stomach, deficiency of yin and blood, and vigorous fire. If things go on like this, I'm afraid it will hinder fertility. This old man prescribed a prescription and took it for three months, and it will definitely improve."

"What, three months?" Qing Ran was startled, taking the decoction for three months would be better than letting her suffer from the pain for a few days every month!

"Madam's constitution is thin and weak, with yin deficiency and internal cold, it is necessary to warm and nourish yin, don't act too hastily." The old man put on his glasses and began to write prescriptions.

"Pick up the best medicine and prescribe it, Mr. Wu, if you can cure your wife's illness, I, Tang, will definitely thank you!" Tang Chengxun personally brought the tea to him.

"Don't dare to do it, don't dare to do it." The old gentleman was very polite.

"Sir, is there any other way not to drink the soup?" Qing Ran asked back.

"Yes." The old man put down his pen and looked straight, "When you have a married life, this disease will be cured even if it is not cured!"

Ye Qingran stood up suddenly, turned and walked away angrily.

Tang Chengxun looked at her figure hurrying towards the small bedroom and laughed.

"Madam's breath stagnates inside, you need to keep your mood happy."

"Sir, you must add some medicinal materials that can regulate the breath and help conceive."

"Madam is very young and has a thin constitution. It is really difficult to conceive at present!"

"In Mister's opinion—" Tang Chengxun was quite eager.

"Take a year to recuperate your body first."

After a while, Tang Chengxun finally said "um".

Ye Qingran was bored in the bedroom, so he spread out his pen, ink, paper and inkstone to copy poems.

When Tang Chengxun came in, the bed and table were already covered with her neat and elegant lowercase letters.

The ink is still wet, but there is still a lingering fragrance.

Tang Chengxun picked up a piece of paper with a smile and read, "'Who will read the desolate music of Yuefu? He Zeng went to Xieqiao.' The words are good, and the characters are better."

Qing Ran put down her pen and smiled faintly, "Thanks for the compliment."

"Your handwriting skills are very strong, how long have you been practicing?" He put down the paper in his hand, picked up another one, and savored it carefully.

"Practice calligraphy at the age of five."

"Without more than ten years of knowledge, it's hard to write such elegant and handsome words." He sat next to Qingran, took a deep look at her, picked up the pen in her hand, and waved a pen on a piece of rice paper:

The advent of what love is?It's called life and death.Flying guests from all over the world, the old wings are cold and hot.Joy is fun, parting is bitter, and there are even more idiotic children.You should have something to say, thin clouds, thousands of mountains and snow at dusk, who will the shadow go to?

"Good word!" Qing Ran blurted out.This is the first time she saw his handwriting, she thought he was just a reckless warrior, she praised her handwriting, just pretending to be elegant, but unexpectedly his handwriting is clear, elegant and powerful, it is really top-notch.

The two eyes met.

Tang Chengxun smiled, "It's not too ugly, is it?"

Qingran picked up the rice paper, "The font is sparse and powerful, rare! Didn't you enlist in the army when you were young? When did you develop this ability?"

It was rare to see her curious, and he stared at her with gentle eyes, "My father is quite accomplished in calligraphy, and he has been very strict with me since I was a child. I was forced to practice holding a pen every day when I was three years old, and I started to practice calligraphy when I was four years old. Zhang, my father will definitely punish me severely. When I was young, I never had redness, swelling or scars on my body. When I was nine years old, my father died of an illness. I thought of my father's painstaking efforts, but I didn't stop. I stayed in the family school until I was 13 years old. I joined the army and joined Tang Jiyao's "National Defense Army". The way out is to form the Yanlong Hall. In the blink of an eye, it has been 16 years..."

(End of this chapter)