The abandoned son of a wealthy family always wants to become a monk and fortune-telling

When Yanjiu returned home, Qing'an was huddled in the corner of the yard.

Yanjiu was already very sleepy, but he still didn't forget to tease Qing'an: "Qing'an, are there any guests tonight?"

Qing'an was shocked: "Two headless ghosts broke in."

Yanjiu noticed that Qing'an was holding a white magnolia in his hand: "What are you doing holding this flower?"

The white magnolia was given to Yanjiu by the ascetic monk during the day, and Yanjiu had not yet been properly placed.

Now Qing'an was finally not so scared anymore. He stood up from the corner and explained:

"There is a sister's remnant soul living in this petal. I am afraid that the guests will disturb her. Just a soul is very fragile."

Yanjiu remembered that Qing'an's eyes were more clear, and his thoughts changed, so he asked:

"Qing'an, can you see what the person in the flower looks like?"

Qing'an nodded: "That sister looks a bit like Jiujiu."

Yanjiu's throat rolled, and his eyes were confused for a moment. He murmured: "Do you look a little like...me?"

Qing'an was already looking for pen and paper: "Uncle, let me draw it for you. Master took me to learn sketching."

Yanjiu asked word for word: "Your master? Will you take you to learn sketching?"

Qing'an said without warning: "There was an art teacher at the foot of the mountain who held a class before. The master signed me up. He drove me down the mountain on his motorcycle every Saturday."

Holding the inkstone on his forehead, he couldn't help but advise Qing'an: "Qing'an, your master is really not a good person. He is never kind to people for no reason. He must have some agenda."

Qing'an raised an innocent and tender smile: "What can my master want from me? He has so many apprentices, and he doesn't want me to support him until his death."

Yanjiu suddenly asked: "Qing'an, how older is your master than you?"

"7 is old."

Yanjiu sighed: "That's right, your master wants you to be young and beautiful."

Qing'an didn't know why, but he kept writing, and gradually the appearance of a woman appeared on the paper.

Yanjiu looked at the woman on the paper and didn't move for a long time. Qing'an didn't know what Yanjiu was thinking.

That woman... Rather than saying that Yanjiu resembles the woman, it is better to say that Yanjiu has exactly the same eyes as the woman in the painting.

Very beautiful peach blossom eyes.

As for Yanjiu's other facial features, he prefers the Bai family's indifference.

But women are different. A woman's entire face is warm and soft, like flowers all over the mountains and plains in spring.

Vivid, bright... easily able to convey happiness to others.

Looking at each other from the heart, Yanjiu can already imagine what the woman was like when she was alive.

To be honest, Yanjiu rarely thought about his mother for a long, long time.

His mother died in childbirth, so he never imagined that if he had a mother, he would have grown up happily and would have been a happy child.

Yanjiu felt from the bottom of his heart that he was not worthy, not even worthy of fantasy.

However, recently in his long dreams, he always saw the shadow of a woman, and Yanjiu knew that it was his mother.

It wasn't until he saw the woman's true face in the painting that Yanjiu had a strong sense of reality.

At this moment, he had many fantasies, and those fantasies had faces.

If his mother had always been here, she would have raised him well even if he was alone.

They may live happily in a small but cozy little house.

Mom goes to work and he goes to school. He will experience joy, anger, sorrow, resentment and separation over the long years.

Mom will never abandon him and will definitely love him.

Yanjiu raised his hand unconsciously, but felt the moisture at the corner of his eyes.

Putting his fingers in front of his eyes, Yanjiu was a little stunned. Are these...tears? It turns out that I will cry.

You can't lie to yourself about some things. Yanjiu knows that many things have become different in the past six months.

Every bit of the world nourished him bit by bit, and the flesh and blood in his heart grew bit by bit.

He is no longer as desireless as before, and has gradually developed a temper. Yanjiu calls this his own nature.

Shen Shi'an and the others said that Yanjiu had gained popularity.

Yanjiu knew that he might have completed his entry into the world, which was what Feng Yang wanted to see most before his death.

Feng Yang hopes that every apprentice can go to the world for a while. The world is so interesting.

Wiping away his tears casually, Yanjiu rubbed Qing'an's hair:

"Can you give me the painting?"

Qing'an felt confused: "Uncle Master, this painting was originally given to you."

After a pause, Qing'an summoned up his courage and said sincerely:

"Little uncle, your mother is very beautiful."

‘Your mother’, Yanjiu had never heard this word from anyone else before. He was stunned for a moment, and then replied in a somewhat unfamiliar and flustered manner: “Thank you, thank you.”

Yanjiu leaned forward, carefully picked up the white magnolia on the table, and placed it on his chest.

I saw the white magnolia being absorbed by the red jade on Yanjiu's chest.

Qing'an tilted his head and asked in confusion: "Uncle Junior, this...?"

Yanjiu said warmly: "This ruby ​​has been with me for many years and can nourish the soul."

Qing'an suddenly realized it and continued to express his opinions:

"Little uncle, your mother must love you very much. Her soul has been shattered like that, but she is still by your side."

Yanjiu: "..."

Yes, always by his side.

At this moment, Yanjiu suddenly had desire. He wanted to collect all his mother's soul. He wanted to hear the stories from the past.

Then, he will send his mother into reincarnation and continue to be that bright and happy girl.