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 alone, cuddling each other again in this cold winter, draped in the same furry blanket, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the same story, with the clean and pleasant fragrance lingering in their breath, her wisps of blue silk 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 words. His voice was a little dull and soft because he was buried in the young man's arms. He sniffed the smell on Cen Zhou's body. Nostalgic rubbed, "Thirty-seven pages."

  The words collected by the folks are very thick, and it can be seen that it is often read by people, and the corners are glowing with a faint old yellow. It was even scrolled, but not a single page was damaged, and it was very well read with care.

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

  Su Qingan would often take it out and read it. In his spare time, he would look at it for an entire afternoon, but never once went to the end.

  Because she knows that someone will come back, no matter how far and how long, he will definitely come back, hold her, and make up the final chapter of this story in the dead of night.

"Last time we heard that the little tiger and the little boy fell into the trap of the forest hunter." Cen Zhou chuckled, turned to the page skillfully, and stroked the back of Su Qing'an's neck with the other hand, letting him She lay on her lap as if petting some kind of small animal.

   There were thin calluses on his fingertips, which made Su Qing'an itchy slightly, and he didn't hide. He covered his face with a furry blanket, revealing only a pair of clear eyes, laughing with him.

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

  Cen Zhou's voice was low: "They were trapped all night, the little tiger said..."

   "Ow!" Xiao Hui called out again, as if he thought he was a tiger, and his voice was proud.

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

   "Ow!" Little Hui turned his wolf ears dully, as if he had realized the reality, and sat down sadly, still holding his breath, listening to the story of the tiger nervously.

"At the end of the story, the little tiger waited for a long, long time in the west of the forest, waiting for it to grow from a little tiger to a big tiger, and when its appearance became majestic, it still often sat on that rock, and finally one day , wait for the little boy."

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

  Xiaohui fell asleep, and Su Qingan fell asleep too, and his fingers did not forget to grab Cen Zhou's hand.

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

   She rubbed the back of his hand unconsciously like a small animal, her blue silk was messy, her lips were rosy, and she murmured, "Don't go..."

Cen Zhou was silent for a long time, held her hand, coaxed her in that posture, recited her name over and over, coaxed her for a long time, lowered his eyes with gentle eyes, and whispered in her ear, "I'll give it to you again. Tell a new story, it's called Mountain Demon."

  The story never ends, they will meet again.

  Eternal Autumn forty-five years, at the beginning of September, the pomegranate flowers fall and bear fruit.

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

  Things are, and so are people.

   "Sweet? Or bitter?"

  Su Qingan asked while standing under the tree, a little curious.

   The swordsman in black stood under the tree, with a straight back and a clean profile, and said slowly and earnestly, "It's very sweet, princess, try it."

  Su Qing Anxin thought it was true, took a light bite, froze for three seconds, and spit it out: "Cen Jinyuan! You have learned badly!"

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

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

   "Okay." He drew his sword, raised his eyebrows and said, "Wei Chen will cut down trees for His Majesty."

  “…”

   This year's pomegranates were picked too early. At first, they were still bitter, but they spread to the top of my heart, but they were satisfying.

   As if she had not yet ascended the throne, he was just a secret guard, and many fiery red pomegranate flowers fell. She watched him dance his sword and called his name by the window. When the young man heard the sound, she showed a smile.

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

  In the summer of the forty-seventh year of Yonglin, Cen Zhou traveled among the tribes in the northwest of the rivers and lakes. The market was noisy, the crowd was bustling, and the lights were dim, and he suddenly met his wife.

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

  Cen Zhou asked in a hoarse voice, "What way did the girl ask?"

   "Looking for my husband, Cen Jinyuan."

   Forty-nine years of eternal spring.

  Cen Zhou broke a branch of peach blossoms on the mountain road by the southeast sea area and gave it to Su Qingan.

  When will I meet you again?

   The coming year is the day when the flowers bloom.

  …

   Maybe after many years, the capital is still the prosperity of the capital, and the rivers and lakes are also the joys of the rivers and lakes.

  Youzhou in those days is now one of the thirteen states of great importance in Daliang.

  The wanderer on the mountain road, exhausted and finished drinking 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 and approached, smelled the faint sandalwood, stepped into the temple carefully, looked up, and saw the Buddha statue sitting on the high platform, caged in the sun, with kind eyes and shining eyes .

  The Buddhist temple is solemn. There are still three unburned incense sticks in the incense burner on the desk.

  The wanderer knelt upright on the futon, kowtowed three times, and prayed to the Bodhisattva to hang down the curtain. He passed the scientific examination once, and he knew the world through cold windows for ten years.

  After worshiping the gods, the wanderer muttered and harassed, and picked an inconspicuous place to sit down and fix it.

   "Worship Bodhisattva!"

   "Worship Bodhisattva!"

   There was a child's innocent voice outside, and then the adult scolded: "Before the Buddhist temple, don't be rude!"

  Two years ago, Youzhou was dry and no grass grew. The people knelt in front of the Buddha and cried. The emperor personally prayed for Youzhou and begged for rain overnight.

   Today's Buddhist temples are admired by thousands of people.

   above 10,000 people.

  The Bodhisattva worships the current emperor.

   This is the prosperous world.

   "I know." The child restrained himself, and the group passed by the 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 beautiful people, the hem of their clothes being blown by the wind, entangled together, and gradually drifting away.

No one knows that this used to be an abandoned faith, and no one knows that ten years ago, it welcomed two newcomers, kneeling in front of the broken temple and worshipping the Buddha, and that was a secret buried in Youzhou many years ago. , engraved at the end of history.

On the other side of the river, the wooden boat is alone, reflected in the middle of Jiang Yuebai. Yan Fei is a drama idiot and a lunatic. , the play is tactful, the water 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 distant guests were welcomed on board.

   "With this little money, can I listen to the show?" The woman was dressed as white as the moon and wore a cap to hide her face.

   The young man beside her held a sword in her left hand and protected her with her right hand: "You have to work."

  The river is sparkling and rippling.

   "It's you." Yan Fei looked at it carefully for a while, smiled madly, her eyes were raised, and she was very romantic, "Nujia ten years ago, I saw two..."

   (end of this chapter)