Hot wife from 70s made a lot of money after divorce

At night, during mealtime.

Yao Ying glanced at the silent young couple opposite, picked up a piece of spareribs and put it into Song Hengjue's bowl: "Qingheng knows that you are coming back today and specially made steamed pork ribs with rice flour. Try it. It must be your taste."

Song Hengjue held the chopsticks for a moment, frowned and looked in the direction of Yang Qingheng: "You don't have to please me, even if..."

"Don't be narcissistic. Who will cook for you?" Yang Qingheng sneered and glanced at Yao Ying coldly, with a clear warning in his eyes.

She said why the little old lady insisted on letting her buy ribs. It turned out that she was waiting for her here.

Yao Ying touched her nose and looked away with a guilty conscience.

This brat didn't know how to take advantage of the opportunities given to him. He deserved to be married for half a year and still couldn't go back to his room to sleep.

The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. People her age could become grandmothers, but there was no movement in her family, and they were not afraid of others laughing at her.

He was the one who desperately wanted to get married, and now he was the one who was homeless for three days. She was so angry that she could forget it.

The expression on Song Hengjue's face stiffened for a moment, and he silently closed his mouth.

Just after dinner, she saw her daughter-in-law going to take a shower. Yao Ying quickly pulled her son over and said, "Tonight I'm going to keep vigil in the fields with your Aunt Liu. You can stay at home."

Because of what happened to Song Jianguo last time, Yang Qingheng would have nightmares every one or two days. Even after taking soothing medicine for a few days, it was of no use. Without anyone at home to accompany him, he would not be able to sleep tonight.

In the village, each household took turns to attend the night watch, but Song Hengjue had no doubts.

I wanted to refuse, but then I thought that it was because of him that that woman had provoked that scumbag Song Jianguo. My heart softened for a moment, and I couldn't say any words of refusal.

Yao Ying achieved her goal, took the kettle and ran away happily.

As night fell, Yang Qingheng lay quietly on the bed, her lips were pale, cold sweat wet the broken hair on her forehead, and she kept mumbling something.

Song Hengjue heard the movement in the room and called twice but no one answered. He frowned and felt uneasy, so he used a screwdriver to remove the lock.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the woman lying on the bed well.

After lighting the oil lamp next to him, he discovered that blood was oozing from the woman's lips. Song Hengjue's heart trembled, he sighed, and patted her back responsibly: "Yang Qingheng, wake up."

"No, go away, no, get out..." Yang Qingheng muttered, breathing rapidly, obviously having a nightmare.

Song Hengjue ignored the discomfort in his heart, picked her up and gently pressed her into his arms, and patted her back soothingly with his other hand. His movements were so skillful that he seemed to have practiced them thousands of times.

The woman in her arms finally calmed down and sobbed softly a few times. She opened her eyes in confusion.

Under the dim candlelight, the man's face looked particularly gentle. Yang Qingheng blinked in confusion. Was she dreaming? Is this a previous life?

She hesitated for a few seconds and then said tentatively: "Husband?"

Song Hengjue's expression changed, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He pushed her away and looked closely at her: "Who taught you to bark like this?"

Yang Qingheng's back hit the bed hard and she couldn't help but gasp. Seeing Song Hengjue's clear eyes that seemed to see through everything, she couldn't help but shudder.

The folk customs in this era were simple and conservative. Everyone called their husbands by their first names, or they just called the man from such and such a family. How could he be called husband? No wonder he had such a strange expression.

She sat up quickly: "I heard a female classmate from another city say that this is what they call it there, doesn't it sound good?"

"It's ugly." Song Hengjue didn't give her any face.

He had just helped her, and Yang Qingheng couldn't resist. She glared at him fiercely and said nothing.

I don’t know who it was that was stalking her to call her that, but now she dislikes it.

Seeing him turn around and go out, Yang Qingheng looked at the darkness of the room and felt a little scared. He hugged the pillow and followed him out: "Can't you make a floor in the room? I'm afraid."

"No." Song Hengjue was a little impatient.

Yang Qingheng curled her lips and said deliberately: "Okay, I've slept well by myself. Who can let someone be a white-eyed wolf? I help him take care of his old mother at home, and he himself is homeless day by day. That's fine. He's still hooking up outside. Three and four..."

The more she spoke, the more outrageous she became. Song Hengjue's forehead veins twitched and he gritted his teeth: "Yang Qingheng, get out of here if you don't want to sleep."

With a dark face, he hugged the quilt and went into the room.

Yang Qingheng was satisfied. As soon as he lay down, he heard a rapid knock on the door from outside.

"Brother Heng, something happened."

Song Hengjue was startled, put on his shoes and ran out quickly to open the door: "What's going on?"

Just as Erniu was about to speak, he saw Yang Qingheng behind him and closed his mouth again.

Yang Qingheng was dissatisfied: "Why should you avoid me? Song Hengjue, you are not eating secretly outside, are you?"

Erniu was startled and waved his hands in a panic: "Sister-in-law, what are you talking about? My brother Heng is not that kind of person."

"Shut up." Song Hengjue was anxious and his tone was not good.

Yang Qingheng curled her lips and walked farther away. She waited until they finished talking before walking back this way.

"I have to go out. You go back to sleep and lock the door." Song Hengjue said nothing, went back, picked up a package and ran outside.

Yang Qingheng took a breath: "No, you can't leave me alone at home. Wherever you go, just take me with you."

She grabbed his arm like a dog-skin plaster, no matter how hard Song Hengjue shook it off, she couldn't shake it off.

His tone became more and more irritable: "You go to Sister-in-law Sun's house to sleep one night first."

"It's shameless for me to disturb other people's sleep in the middle of the night." Yang Qingheng was angry. If she went to sleep at Sister-in-law Sun's house in the middle of the night tonight, there might be news in the village tomorrow that she and Song Hengjue were getting married in the middle of the night. quarrel.

That Li Jiaoyan might be more proud.

Song Hengjue was impatient and pushed her away. Yang Qingheng leaned back and almost fell to the ground.

He pursed his lips for a few seconds, then suddenly ran into the kitchen, took out a kitchen knife, forced it into her hand, and then dragged her to the next door: "Yang Qingheng, I really have something urgent, so don't make trouble unreasonably."

Before she could react, she ran away with Erniu, leaving Yang Qingheng alone at Sister-in-law Sun's door. She couldn't even knock on the door, and she was scared if she didn't.

She cursed him hard in her heart, gritted her teeth, and knocked lightly on the courtyard door: "Sister-in-law! I'm Qingheng."

After a few seconds, the room suddenly lit up. Sister-in-law Sun hurried out with a kerosene lamp and opened the door: "Qingheng, what are you doing..."

When he saw the kitchen knife in her hand, he trembled all over and subconsciously took two steps back.