She was wearing a rough white linen silhouette, with white silk tied on her head, her oval face was very pretty, her eyes were red, her eyelashes were still wet, and her little nose was red, she was looking at him timidly.

Zheng Shaopeng looked at her in a daze. Yang Han? Is it too young? Should it be in the first grade or the second grade? Although he has a lot of experience in resurrection from the dead and quickly integrating into a new life, he still feels extremely strange when he sees his wife with a new identity so "young".

The extremely weak body supported her kneeling and sat down for a while, and then she began to shake again. Before dizzying again, he forced a smile and said to her: "Don't be afraid, I'm not dead yet."

Han Youniang's eyes were wide open, staring at him without a moment, and tears gradually blurred her eyes. After a while, she suddenly burst into tears.

This cry made Zheng Shaopeng cry a cold chill from his tail vertebra to the back of his head. How much sadness and grievance would it take to cry so heartbreakingly.

Han Youniang cried sadly, holding the coffin tightly with both hands, for fear that she would waning to the ground once she let go. She usually only took care of him without regrets and did her best to do the same thing as a husband and wife. She just got married, and the two of them hadn't even said a few words. In fact, there was no deep relationship between them.

But now she knew what he meant to him and how important it was. Even if he was in one breath, he was his own man. With him, this family was not considered a pillar.

Zheng Shaopeng was so sad that she cried. He was about to comfort her and said a few words like "I met for the first time, please take care of me." Unfortunately, he was not strong enough and his mouth opened like a sticky fish, but he couldn't say anything. Instead, he turned his eyes and fainted again.

There was another chaos in the mourning hall. Han Youniang, who woke up, dragged him out of the coffin crying and screaming. Old Master Yang had heard of some people who were faked to death and resurrection, but he was not too fussy. Although he felt a little embarrassed when he saw Yang Ling resurrection, he was more happy.

After all, Yang Ling is the only person in this Jiming Yibao who has fame and fame. It is also a glorious thing to have such a person in the clan. After all, it is also the bloodline of his own Yang family.

He was told by his son before and came to snatch property, although it was for his son's plan, but in his selfishness, he was half worried that the little widow could not hold on. He brought the Yang family's property to remarry a few years later. Now that his cousin has survived, he has been worried about going to this place, so he has taken over his thoughts.

He asked someone to help lift his nephew onto the bed, and then went to find the doctor. After working for most of the day, he left with the help of his children and grandchildren.

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Two bowls of corn porridge and a plate of roe and pickles were the first meal that Zheng Shaode, a great charity man of the ninth generation, ate with his wife after he was reincarnated as Yangling. An oil lamp was shaking on the stove as if it was not extinguished, and the room was filled with the smell of fireworks.

The first eight times of reincarnation were either rich and powerful families or powerful people. When they first ate such meals, even though they were hungry, Zheng Shaopeng, now the scholar Yang Ling, who was in the 17th year of Hongzhi in the Ming Dynasty, had to eat 70% of his fullness and could no longer swallow it.

Han Youniang had a very sweet meal. Although the simple meal was too hard, she saw that her husband not only came back to life, but also could go to the fields to eat by herself. She had only joy and satisfaction in her little heart.

Looking at the house with a bare wall, Yang Ling couldn't help but sigh. Looking at Han Youniang, who was just a little girl, drank a bowl of corn porridge very sweetly and licked the edges of the bowl with her little tongue. Yang Ling couldn't help but feel sad: "It seems that the damn Ghost Judgment is playing tricks on himself. If he had known this, it would be better to enjoy the life of being a billionaire. Although he was a little older... What should I do now? I really want to do ten thousand years later and then subtract one thousand years? It would be better to just stay here for two years, at least... Although this wife is a little younger, she is really attractive."

He thought to himself that when Han Youniang saw that he had stacked the bowl, he pushed the half bowl of corn porridge he had left and said warmly: "I haven't eaten enough yet? Come on, drink these too."

Only then did Han Youniang boldly look at her man. He looked very haggard, but his spirit had improved a lot, and his eyes were also bright. Seeing his beautiful eyes staring at her gently, Han Youniang couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. She lowered her eyes and said softly: "Mr., you have just recovered from illness, so you should eat more."

Yang Ling thought about it and then searched in her mind that she should call her wife. However, this ancient name made him very uncomfortable. Fortunately, since Yang Ling fell ill, she was drowsy all day long, and she didn't even bother to open her eyes, so she called her nickname: "Young mother, I'm in a good health, so I can't eat too much. If you don't eat it, it will be wasted."

Han Youniang thought about it, smiled shyly at him, took the bowl and whispered: "Thank you, my husband."

Yang Ling looked at her carefully and found that the girl had taken off her mourning clothes and changed into a green cloth dress. Her face looked young. Perhaps because of her long-term martial arts practice, her figure was developed to look like a big girl. She had handsome appearance, slightly dark skin, but her thick eyebrows, pretty nose, plump lips, and big black eyes looked very cute.

When Han Youniang found that her husband was looking at her, she thought that there was something indifferent about her eating habits, and she couldn't help but turn her shyly. This was the first time she and her husband had been having dinner together since they got married. Although they had been married for more than half a year, in her impression, her husband's impression was still blank. Apart from knowing his name, knowing that he was the youngest scholar in Xuanfu, and the only man with fame and fame in Jimingyibao, he knew nothing.

There is a dining hall in the middle of this house, and the stove is the one that enters the door, and the bedroom is the one that enters the right, and there is a faint smell of medicine inside. The left side was originally the residence of Yang Ling’s parents, but the old man was idle after he passed away and used to pile up some miscellaneous items.

The canteen is also a living room, and it is also Yang Ling's mourning hall. Han Youniang was afraid that he would be too weak and insisted on letting him do it. She helped him sit on the kang, so she piled up the elegy couplets, burn paper, gold and silver baskets and so on the door, and demolished the mourning hall, which was busy sweating.

Seeing Han Youniang tidy up the house quickly, Yang Ling couldn't help but sigh secretly, saying that modern girls have a lot of things to do and eat well, so precocious, what about precocious puberty? Precocious puberty is just their bodies and yu-looking. Looking at Han Youniang, this is the mental maturity.

The fifteen-year-old girl had to serve a bedridden patient just after passing the door. It was so poor that she was so poor that she was so poor that she could survive the past six months. Looking at her beauty and well-being, Yang Ling felt a little moved. The simple and pure appearance of this girl made him feel a sense of pity and love. Thinking about how she lived for two years at most, he was really reluctant to waste others.

Han Youniang finished packing and turned her head. Seeing him sitting on the kang looking at him, her face became hot. For more than half a year, she only hoped that her man would wake up every day. Now he has really woken up. When he looked at him like this, she felt uncomfortable all over.

She was a little embarrassed and walked into the house shyly to light up the oil lamp. Seeing that his eyes were still chasing him, her face couldn't help but get hotter and hotter, but she didn't know how to talk to him. She polished her face in the house for a while, and leaned over with a red face and pulled the thin quilt horizontally on his legs, and stuttered: "Honey, you just recovered, have a rest, I'll go to Aunt Li's house next door, and I'll come back later." After that, she ran out of the house as if she ran away.

Yang Ling smiled slightly, and a warm feeling surged in his heart. He didn't know what disease he had, but since he possessed, he had nothing to do with his limbs being weak and weak due to long-term bedridden and poor nutrition.

Seeing Han Youniang running out, he lifted the quilt and walked down the ground, and took the opportunity to get up and get to know him. At this moment, his heart couldn't help but feel cold. It was empty everywhere, and it was really a pity for his family.

When he walked to the opposite room, from Han Youniang, he knew that this was the residence of Yang Ling's parents. Now it was empty and some miscellaneous items were placed. He walked to the door and carried the bag of grain. There was less than a bowl of crushed corn left in it. No wonder she only cooked two bowls of porridge at night, and drank the half bowl of leftover porridge so fragrant. I don't know how many days she hadn't eaten a full meal. Yang Ling's nose felt a little sour.

I'm afraid that life will be a problem. How can I live this winter? I said I could just wait for death, but I didn't say I would starve to death. He cursed the judges one by one in his heart.

The room was not big, and there was nothing in the room. He walked around in a few seconds. He pushed open the door and walked out. The night in the mountain village was dark and the small oil lamps at each house were not far away. They were not as bright as the countryside today. Looking at the crescent moon covered by dark clouds in the sky, he felt the cold air was completely frozen and the fields were quiet. He didn't know where Han Youniang went. He was about to return to the room when he suddenly heard a creaking sound not far away, and then a dog barked.

I listened to the voice of an elderly woman not far away and said, "Young mother, it's dark at night, just look a little while walking."

Then the young lady said in a crisp voice: "Hey, thank you Aunt Li, this grain will be returned to you when there is a harvest in my field next year."

Yang Ling quietly walked to the low wall, with snow sweeping over underneath. He held the low wall and looked over there. He saw an old woman with white hair holding an oil lamp in one hand and pushing the door in the other half. The young lady must have left the yard.

The old woman shook her head and sighed. When she closed the door, she heard an old man's voice in the room saying, "My wife, the Tartars have come here in the autumn, and there is not much surplus in our family."

The old woman muttered while closing the door: "Oh, I know, but Young Mother is pitiful. If you can help, just help. Besides, Ling'er's child has fame and fortune. If you survive the disaster, you will have good fortune in the future."

As the door was closed, the words below could not be heard clearly. When Yang Ling heard the sound of his own yard, a petite figure walked in and couldn't help but take two steps forward.
Chapter completed!