Master Fu's slave

There was an accident in the house, it stands to reason that young people must be in a hurry, but Yang San stood by the closed pear-carved wooden door without saying a word.

What came from inside was the heart-piercing cry of the second wife and the gasp of the third young master because of the pain.

Yang San clenched his fists tightly, the house was full of abnormal changes and people's voices were chaotic, he still stood at the door and waited like a statue.

After a long time, there was only a creaking sound, and the door was gently pushed open.With the sigh of the old doctor, Yang San knew the situation inside——

The third young master's face was ruined after all.

Once upon a time, I thought that Fu Sanshao in the capital city was in his prime, with a face like a crown jade, eyebrows like ink paintings, eyes full of autumn water, and lips like red cherry blossoms. With this unparalleled handsome face, he could be famous all over the city, and later wrote songs, composed music and danced. Playing the sword and playing the piano, despite the dandyism, still attracts countless boys and girls to admire and yearn for it.

It was as if the veil had just been unveiled yesterday, and praises and delusions poured in, unlike today, where there are so few people, no one cares about it.

After all, natural disasters and man-made disasters cannot be avoided, cannot be avoided.

Yang San sent the old doctor away, and witnessed the scene where the third young master screamed and drove the second wife and the maids out one after another. He still stood by the pear-carved wooden door, listening to the depressing silence inside. .

After a while, a few drops of rain fell from the gloomy sky and hit Yang San's feet, soaking the steps.

Tick-tick-tick, just like the crying of the third young master inside the door trying to suppress it, it rained heavily.

After another half an hour, there was no sound inside. Yang San's clothes were soaked by the raindrops falling from the eaves. He finally moved his legs that had been standing unconscious for a while, first relieved the numbness, and then Step inside.

"Grandpa, my little one is here to serve you."

Yang San's voice was very hoarse, he deliberately lowered the volume for fear of disturbing the people inside, and the lingering sound was a bit longer, so it was like the long ringing of a copper bell.Yang San made a sound, heard his own ugly tone, stopped talking, and pressed his steps, like a thief who came to steal something.

The third young master was silent, Yang San knew that he was asleep, so he walked lightly again.

The charming girl on the bed, the corners of her eyes were dyed red, the exposed half of her face was as clean as jade, but a clear dividing line was drawn by her tall and small nose, and the other half of her face pressed on the soft silk was Completely ruined.

Yang San only glanced at it, and seemed to be blaspheming, lowered his eyes in panic, and squatted obediently beside the third young master's bed.

Just now the Second Madam gave orders, the Third Young Master was already drenched in sweat, let him come in and change his clothes.

Even though the status of the second wife and the third young master in the mansion has plummeted, the head of the Fu family did not treat the two women badly in terms of food, clothing, housing and transportation. The clothes are still made of the finest cloud silk. The sackcloth.

The water in the exquisite small basin beside the bed was still warm, Yang San drenched the water with a towel, cleaned the third young master, tucked in a thin quilt, and retreated to the side of Jiaorener.

There were not many disturbances throughout the night, Yang San stayed on the bed, guarding against the third young master waking up in the middle of the night, who would have thought that such a mournful third young master would sleep deeply at night and sleep until dawn.

Xu is tired, whether it is a tired body or a bleeding heart.

Yang San's legs were so numb after kneeling all night, he leaned on the small pear wood stool on the right to barely support himself.His movements were very light, he estimated the time when the third young master would wake up, and went to the outer room lightly, preparing a washbasin and silk towels for the third young master.

After the matter was over, Yang San mixed a little cold water into the freshly boiled hot water brought by the maid, and tested the temperature until it reached the temperature that the three young men could usually withstand. With sharp ears, he heard the movement from the inner room, so he took the wash Basins and silk towels lifted the heavy curtain that separated the inner and outer rooms.

The charming girl is half dressed in silk, her jet-black hair spread out, and the hair curtain on the right covers half of the third young master's face, while the other half is faintly visible, so you can get a glimpse of it.

Although the third young master's face was ruined, half of the good scenery was still left behind.

Yang San didn't dare to take a closer look, knelt down in front of the third young master, picked up the washbasin, and said calmly, "Master, it's time to wash up."

Fu Sanshao, who was half leaning on the bed, had bare skin on his chest as white as mutton fat jade. He just lay there expressionless, as if he didn't hear Yang San's words at all, like a porcelain doll brought by a foreigner.

Although delicate, it is also fragile.

"Oh, it's you."

The third young master's usually light voice like a nightingale no longer exists, and the hoarseness in his throat makes others feel sorry for him.

Yang San obediently knelt on the side of the third young master's leg, with a big body, a little awkward.

"Master, the temperature is just right."

Yang San lifted the washbasin in his hand again, minimizing his presence.

The third young master cleared his mouth, and wanted to pick up the silk scarf on the tray, but Yurun's slender fingers paused in mid-air, trembling slightly.

Yang San came to his senses in an instant, used the empty basin at the side, poured water to wash his hands, took a silk towel, soaked it in water, "Master, I'm taking the liberty."

After finishing speaking, Yang San opened the third young master's hair.

Yang San didn't care at all.

Whether his third young master is human or ghost, poor or rich, no matter how injured, disfigured or mutilated, he is the third young master's slave.

Hearing for the first time that the third young master had been disfigured and divorced, his anger was greater than his heartache. He remembered the grudge in his heart, buried his grievances, and only wanted to vindicate his third young master.

On the first night when he didn't see the third young master's wound, he was so angry that he couldn't sleep, his mind was full of strategizing step by step, planning and thinking, and using various methods to repay the person who hurt the third young master even more.

Subconsciously, he was afraid to touch the pain of the third young master, but now, he witnessed the ferocious look on the third young master's right cheek, and his anger turned into pain, which quickly spread to his whole body.

How much physical pain did his delicate third young master endure when the wicked man scratched his skin with a dagger contaminated with poisonous powder, leaving half of his face with abscess scars?Because of his disfigured appearance, he suddenly lost his reputation, and was rejected by the long-admired daughter of the Prime Minister, divorced and passed on to his elder brother. How much pain from the heart and soul did his third young master, who was born to be loved by thousands of people, endure?

Yang San felt a chill down his back, and the dignified man suddenly felt his nose and eyes sour.

"It's ugly." Fu Sanshao laughed at himself, but he didn't blame Yang San for being unreasonable.

Yang San didn't say a word, just looked at the third young master's face, washed the third young master's face in a normal manner, wrung out the silk towel, and wiped it clean again.

During the whole process, the third young master cooperated very rarely, Yang San's hand left the third young master's hair, letting the black hair pour down.

"Master, I have a stupid mouth." Yang San paused, his voice was very deep and heavy, "I think you are still unparalleled in beauty and in your prime."

Hearing Yang San's words, the self-deprecating smile on Fu Sanshao's face did not fade, and his cold eyes became even colder.

"The beauty is gone, but Wushuang is really Wushuang."

His ruined face, half immortal and half demon, is unparalleled in this magnificent capital city.