three feet away from me

"Du Xingqing wants that piece of jade?" Wen Xucong sat by the window, put down his pen, and raised his side face against the scenery outside the window, looking picturesque.

"That's right! The shopkeeper of Dongnan Tower has come to me several times," Li Mu, the master of the Li family, looked a little fat, and was taking out a handkerchief from his arms to wipe his sweat: "It is said that it is the little prince of the palace. If you insist on that stone, tell me there is something good in the palace that you have never seen before, and you insist on grabbing this piece of jade!"

Wen Xucong looked down at the scroll on the table, thought for a while, and rubbed the space between his brows: "Give it to him."

"Give it to him?" Li Mu carefully looked at Wen Xucong's face: "Then the prime minister..."

"A piece of jade is nothing special," Wen Xucong said calmly, "Go ahead, I will explain to the prime minister."

"Yes."

Li Mu stood up cautiously, and before leaving, he took a peek at the picturesque young master, as if he didn't understand that the prime minister asked him to buy this piece of jade, but the prime minister said that the jade was nothing special, Li Mu did the same I don't understand why the son doesn't care if his father is called father, but insists on calling them prime ministers with outsiders like them.

The shadow of the tree whirled, Wen Xucong picked up the pen again, and stared at the blank rice paper for a long while, but he didn't write a word.

"My lord, what you want..." Zhan Cha entered the room with a teapot in his hand, and what he saw was Wen Xucong holding a pen and ink in his right hand.

"Why are you writing with your right hand again!" The teapot was hastily placed on the table, and a cup of tea ran over, trying to snatch the pen in Wen Xucong's hand but did not dare, and almost jumped up on the spot in a hurry: "Your hand is still there." No, the doctor said to rest, young master, you can't use your hands anymore, otherwise this hand..."

The sound of Zhancha whimpering became smaller and smaller.

Although Wen Xucong didn't understand that this hand was useless, it didn't matter whether he used it to write or not, but seeing the book boy who had been with him since he was a child was about to cry, Wen Xucong stared at the pen in his hand in a daze, and decided to use it. Put it on the pen stand.

"My lord," Zhancha looked at her, feeling even more distressed: "Is there any other discomfort for you? Is your arm still hurting? You have to tell me the pain, don't bear it."

Wen Xucong said, "No."

When Wen Xucong lowered her head, the hair in front of her forehead hung down on both sides of her cheeks, her skin was white, and she looked a little thin. Thinking of something, Zhancha couldn't stop her anger: "Madam is so ruthless, and you are too, with injuries on your hands. Not to mention, it's all over now, my hand was injured, and I was lying on the bed for more than ten days, the young master will have to think more about his body in the future, look, he has lost a lot of weight."

Wen Xucong propped his forehead with his left hand, raised his right hand and was about to turn the pages of the book, then he seemed to dare to raise his head, so under the gaze of the cup of tea, Mr. Wen calmly changed his hand to turn the pages.

The cup of tea chattered endlessly, but Wen Xu turned a deaf ear to it, not because he thought he was noisy, but because he thought that cup of tea talked too much, and he should drink saliva to moisten his throat, and he didn't pay much attention to his hands. It still grows on the arm well, no big deal.

The right arm moved, and Wen Xucong relaxed his arm expressionlessly, but it still hurts. It's only been a few days since he was injured for a hundred days!

A few days ago, Wen Xucong didn't go to the academy on purpose, he didn't bring a soldier talisman with him when he came back, and Wen Chengyu didn't say anything, but Madam thought he deserved to be punished for his lack of merit, so he was punished to a bitingly cold ice cave I thought about it inside.

It was okay at first, it was just cold, and he didn't feel anything else. Gradually, he felt a little pain in the right hand that Xie Ze removed. Then, it became colder and more painful, like a needle piercing into a bone. Stirring such pain, and then the cave was severely cold, and Wen Xucong suffered from the wind and cold again, and spent several days and nights in the cave in a daze.

In the end, it was the servant's exclamation that made Wen Xucong conscious. He opened his eyes with difficulty. He tried to move his wrist, but his right arm had no feeling. He tilted his head, knowing that the hand should be It's over, and while being calm, there is a sense of regret that this hand was also taken by Du Xingqing, and he was told to take good care of it, but now it is useless.

Thinking of Du Xingqing, Wen Xucong put his hands on the center of his brows, where he frowned unconsciously, wondering what the young master wanted that piece of jade for, maybe he had a sweetheart and wanted to please him.

"Young master! Young master?"

Wen Xu raised his eyes: "Huh?"

Zhancha patted his chest: "I thought the young master was in a daze, and he stayed silent for a long time."

Wen Xu rubbed the forehead, change to a book boy, it's still clean.