Kuai Chuan: The cold Lord God always acts like a spoiled brat to me

Chapter 764 Fanwai: It's a wolf, not a tiger
They are all lonely, cuddling each other in this cold winter, wearing the same fluffy blanket, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the same story, with a clean and pleasant smell in their breath, and a strand of her blue hair It slipped on Cen Zhou's neck, causing a slight itching.

"Today it's time to talk about the ending of the little tiger." Su Qingan got up and handed him the yellowed script, her voice was muffled and soft because she was lazily buried in the young man's arms, smelling the smell of Cen Zhou, Rubbing affectionately, "Page 37."

The vernacular book collected by the folks is very thick, and it can be seen that it is often read by people. The corners are faintly aged yellow, and it is also typed, but no page is broken, and it has been carefully read.

Every time he came back, he would tell Su Qingan a story, but he never told the ending.

Su Qing'an would often take it out to read, and spent the whole afternoon watching it in her spare time, but she never went to the end of it once.

Because she knew that someone would come back, no matter how far away or how long, he would definitely come back, hug her, and make up the final chapter of this story in the dead of night.

"Last time we heard Qingqing - the little tiger and the little boy fell into the forest hunter's trap." Cen Zhou chuckled, turned to that page deftly, and stroked the back of Su Qingan's neck with his other hand, Let her lie on his lap, as if petting some kind of small animal.

There were thin calluses on his fingertips, which made Su Qingan itchy slightly, but she didn't hide, she covered her face with a fluffy blanket, only showing a pair of clear eyes, laughing with him.

"Aw!" Xiao Hui suddenly became energetic, got up from the ground, and howled.

Cen Zhou's voice was low: "They were trapped for a whole night, and the little tiger said..."

"Aw!" Xiao Hui yelled again, as if he thought he was a tiger, his voice was very proud.

Su Qingan couldn't help telling it: "You are not a tiger, you are a wolf, you are a wolf."

"Aww!" Xiao Hui turned the wolf's ears blankly, as if realizing the reality, and sat down sadly, still holding his breath, listening to the tiger's story nervously.

"At the end of the story, the little tiger waited in the west of the forest for a long, long time, waiting for it to grow from a little tiger to a big tiger, and waiting for its appearance to become majestic, and it would often sit on that rock, and finally one day , and here comes the little boy."

"The little boy put his arms around its neck, smiled slyly, and said hey man, I'm back..."

Xiao Hui fell asleep, and Su Qing'an also fell asleep, and she still held Cen Zhou's hand with her fingers.

Cen Zhou put down the storybook and tried to cover her with a quilt, but was held tightly.

She unconsciously rubbed against the back of his hand like a small animal, her hair was disheveled, her lips were rosy, and she muttered in her sleep, "Don't go..."

Cen Zhou was quiet for a while, took her hand, and coaxed her in that posture, saying her name over and over again, coaxing her for a long time, his eyes were gentle when he lowered his eyes, and whispered in her ear: "I'll give you another How about telling a new story, called the Mountain Demon?"

The story never ends, and they will meet again.

In the autumn of the 45th year of Yonglin, at the beginning of September, the pomegranate flowers fall and bear fruit.

In the old Princess Zhaoyi's mansion, red and white tiles, nothing has changed.

As things are, so are people.

"Sweet? Or bitter?"

Su Qingan stood under the tree and asked, a little curious.

The black-clothed swordsman stood under the tree with his back straight and his face clean. He said slowly and seriously, "It's very sweet, princess, try it."

Su Qingan believed it was true, took a light bite, froze for three seconds, and spat out in a mouthful: "Cen Jinyuan! You've learned badly!"

He bent his eyes, smiled recklessly, and his eyes were cold: "Don't be angry, Qingqing, I'll pick another one for you."

Su Qingan was angry: "I won't eat, it's getting cold, the pomegranate tree should be cut down."

"Okay." He drew out his sword, raised his eyebrows and said, "This minister will chop down trees for His Majesty."

"..."

This year's pomegranates were picked too early, and it was still bitter at first, but it spread to the tip of my heart, but it was satisfying.

Like in the past when she hadn't ascended the throne, he was just a hidden guard, and many fiery red pomegranate flowers fell, she watched him dance the sword, and called his name in front of the window, when the young man heard the sound, she smiled.

At that time, they were only separated by a wall, and they got along day and night, so close at hand.

In the summer of the 47th year of Yonglin, Cen Zhou was traveling in the tribes in the northwest of Jianghu, where the market was noisy, the crowds were bustling, and the lights were dim, when he suddenly met his wife.

She was there and said to Cen Zhou: "I don't know much about the Northwest. I don't know this gentleman, can you point me to the way?"

Cen Zhou asked in a hoarse voice, "What is the girl asking?"

"Looking for my husband, Cen Jinyuan."

The spring of Yonglin 49.

Cen Zhou broke off a branch of peach blossoms on the mountain road beside the southeast sea and gave it to Su Qing'an.

When will I meet you again?

The flowering day of the coming year.

...

Perhaps after many years, the capital is still prosperous, and the rivers and lakes are also happy.

Youzhou back then is now one of the thirteen extremely important states in Daliang.

The wanderer walking on the mountain road tiredly drank the last sip of water in the water bag, looked up, and suddenly saw a temple in the distance.

With hope in his heart, he shuffled over, approached, smelled a touch of sandalwood, stepped into the temple carefully, looked up, and saw the Buddha statue sitting on a high platform, caged in the sun, with kind eyebrows and eyes, shining brightly .

The Buddhist temple is solemn, there are still three unburned incense sticks in the incense burner on the table, the light gray ashes fall, and the tribute fruits are placed on the plate before someone worships and leaves.

The wanderer knelt on the futon upright, kowtowed three times, and prayed devoutly to the Bodhisattva to hang down the curtain.

After worshiping the gods, the wanderer muttered aloud, and picked an inconspicuous place to sit and rest.

"Worship the Bodhisattva!"

"Worship the Bodhisattva!"

There was a child's innocent voice outside, followed by an adult sternly reprimanded: "In front of the Buddhist Temple, don't be rude!"

Two years ago, there was a drought in Youzhou, and there was no grass growing. The people knelt in front of the Buddha and cried, and the emperor personally prayed for Youzhou, and prayed for rain overnight.

Today's Buddhist temple is revered by thousands of people.

over thousands of people.

The bodhisattva respects the current emperor.

This is the golden age.

"Got it." The child restrained himself a little, and the group passed by two strangers and stepped into the temple.

The young mother couldn't help but looked back, only to see the backs of a pair of Bi people, the hem of their clothes was blown by the wind, entangled together, and gradually drifted away.

No one knows that this was once an abandoned belief, and no one knows that ten years ago, two newcomers were ushered in here, kneeling in front of the ruined temple Buddha to worship and get married. That was a secret buried in Youzhou many years ago , engraved at the end of history.

On the other side of the river, the shadow of a wooden boat is reflected in the center of Jiang Yuebai. Yan Fei is a theater idiot and a lunatic. , the play is mellow, the sleeves dance lightly, and the play does not stop at the beginning. This is the rule set by the ancestors, and she herself is the only audience.

On this day, two guests from afar were ushered in on board.

"With this little money, can I listen to a show?" The woman was dressed in moon-like white, with a veiled hat covering her face.

The young man beside him holds a sword in his left hand and protects her side with his right: "Thank you."

The river is sparkling and slightly rippling.

"It's you guys." Yan Fei looked at her for a long time, then smiled foolishly, with the corners of her eyes raised, she was very flirtatious, "I met you two ten years ago..."

(End of this chapter)