Chapter 152: A Swerve Of Fate [III]

In Fengze's bedroom in General Zhengxi's Mansion, Zhao Ling sighed inwardly as she watched Feng Ze lying on the bed and had not regained consciousness.

Sadly, this Feng Ze, why was he so hard-headed. There were many ways to refuse a marriage, why did he has to confront Emperor Ming head-on?

From the hundred slabs, Feng Ze was indeed seriously injured, especially the wound on the back, which had festered. There were no anti-inflammatory drugs in ancient times, and the recovery of the wound was naturally slow.

Fortunately, the old man Duan left her with first-class medicine, especially in the treatment of traumatic infection, the effect was not generally good.

Speaking of which, Old Man Duan's medical attainments were really at the peak of medical practices, which even Situ Gong couldn't match.

With the help of several servants from the general's residence, Zhao Ling finished the external wound medicine for Fengze. Mrs. Chu Jiang took several servants out to prepare the soup for internal use, while Zhao Ling was left in the room to rest. By the way, it also meant to let her take care of Feng Ze.

Zhao Ling sorted out the medicine box she brought, and seeing that Feng Ze had not woken up, she looked around his bedroom boredly.

The bedroom was very large. Generally speaking, it was a normal male room. The layout of the room was just like the feeling of Fengze, tough and handsome. Walking to the desk, Zhao Ling found that there were many books neatly placed on the table.

Unexpectedly, Feng Ze, as a military general, actually liked to read books?

Zhao Ling picked up a book, opened it and flipped through a few pages, but found a few neatly folded sheets of paper between the pages.

She took out one of them curiously and opened it. It was a painting, but it surprised her.

The woman in the painting seemed to be her!

Zhao Ling opened all the drawing papers in the pages of the book and spread them all on the desk. Seeing this, she was even more terrified.

The women in these portraits are either frowning and contemplating, or being petite and angry, or looking indifferent, or smiling sweetly. Although the drawing technique is relatively immature and the brushwork is not skilled enough, it was obviously the handwriting of beginners. 

But whether it was the facial features, clothes, or charm, anyone with a discerning eye could see that this was her. Could it be that these were painted by Feng Ze? Were all these done for himself?

Just when Zhao Ling was holding the portraits in her hand, with a shocked expression on her face, Feng Ze shouted angrily from behind: "Ling, you...don't look at those paintings!"

Hearing Feng Ze's angry low voice behind her all of a sudden, Zhao Ling was startled.

She turned around and saw that Fengze was struggling to sit up from the bed, but because of the wound on his back, his painful eyebrows were knitted together, and his face was pale. She quickly reprimanded him. "Don't move, I just finished administering the medicine. I don't want you to waste my good hard-to-prepare medicine."

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However, Feng Ze ignored Zhao Ling's reprimand and sat up with difficulty. All he was thinking about was taking those paintings away from Zhao Ling's hands.

This was the deepest secret in his heart, and it was his only beautiful thought. He didn't want her to know, nor could he afford to let her know.

If Ling knew what he thought about her, they might not even be friends anymore.

Seeing his anxious look, Zhao Ling frowned, secretly thinking that this matter seemed to be troublesome. She put down the painting in her hand, walked up to him, looked directly at him, and asked softly, "Fengze, is the women in these paintings me?"

Feng Ze's eyes flickered, he lowered his head to avoid her gaze, and after a long silence, as if he had made a decision, he raised his head, looked at Zhao Ling with burning eyes, and answered affirmatively and firmly. "Yes."

If he couldn't escape, it was better to admit it generously. Feng Ze suddenly wanted to give it a try. He wanted to know how much weight he had in Zhao Ling's mind.

Facing Shang Fengze's burning eyes, Zhao Ling still looked calm and spoke calmly. "Then, you refused to marry Princess Qionghua because of me?"

"Yes."

"But you know me and King Xuan..."

"Of course I know, you and King Xuan are deeply in love and have deep feelings for each other." Feng Ze interrupted Zhao Ling's words, then laughed at himself, and said faintly, "I also told myself countless times to let go. , but I can't do it, Ling, I can't do it..."

Feng Ze's tough and handsome face was full of struggles, and the boundless pain deep in his eyes made Zhao Ling terrified.

Since when did Feng Ze feel so deeply in love with her?

But emotionally, what Zhao Ling hated most was being tangled up in muddy waters. Since she had already identified Meng Yuan in her life, she would not change her mind. No matter how much Feng Ze was infatuated with her, she couldn't respond.

"Fengze, I'm sorry. If I have misunderstood you in the past, I apologize to you. In fact, the first time I saw you, I was very kind to you because..."

"Because I look like an old friend of yours, don't I?" Feng Ze interrupted her again with a sad smile.

"So you already know." Zhao Ling nodded, "Yes, you look very much like an old friend I once knew, his name is Yuan Lie, but for some reason, I may never meet him again. We met. So, Feng Ze, I don't want to lose your friendship..."

"Friendship?" Feng Ze said with a gloomy expression and muttered to himself, "Can we just be friends?"

"I'm sorry." Zhao Ling was very clear about her feelings.. She had no male and female affection for Feng Ze, only the mutual sympathy between two friends.

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