The Cold Lord God Always Acts Like a Spoiled Brat To Me

  On Christmas Eve, it was snowing heavily.

  Snowflakes pass through the glass window, reflecting the huge room, elongating the shadow of people.

  Qin Ting'an walked along the rolling ball of wool, lowered his head to collect the wool, and passed a half-closed door.

  Colorful yarn **** lie quietly under the crack of the door.

  She bent down to pick it up, and inadvertently saw the picture inside the room, dazed for a moment, her little finger froze, and her pupils constricted like black grapes.

  The two sides of the corridor are decorated with portraits of famous people. The eyes in the portraits seem to be watching the little girl squatting on the ground.

  The flickering lights reflected half of her immature face.

   Too late to react.

   There was a "click".

  A toy hit Qin Ting'an's back without warning, the hard texture made her frown and turn her head.

   saw his sister's pale face.

   "An'an, it's cold outside, don't catch a cold, come in quickly, finish the hot soup."

   There was an old and kind voice, calling her along with the sound of coughing and wind and snow.

   Penetrated time and woke up Qin Ting'an.

  Qin Ting'an snapped out of his memory suddenly, and when he turned his head was his old grandmother's face, who was standing at the door looking at her kindly.

  The old man was wearing a flowered padded jacket, with a slightly hunched back, like a hill, with gray hair and folds all over his neck. When he laughed, he felt peaceful.

  Fine and fine snowflakes fluttered in the dark blue night, falling on every street, alley and alley in Yuncheng, falling in the warm colors of the lights of thousands of houses, and falling on the trees decorated with candy ribbons.

   Everything is covered with a lively but wandering atmosphere.

   "Got it, grandma." Qin Ting'an's voice was soft.

  Here is the alley, she is sitting on the steps that have been cleared of snow, her six-year-old body is frail and frail, inexplicably showing a lonely color with the Christmas trees decorated on the whole long street.

  Qin Ting'an stood up, looked up at his immature face, and took a last look at the stars that were slowly drifting away in the sky, hidden in the doomsday of heavy snow, hard to find.

  The breath she inhaled mixed with ice, and the breath she exhaled turned into white mist. She shivered from the cold, so she walked quickly into the house.

   Another Christmas Eve of the year, December 24th.

   Dim lights shrouded the old mahogany furniture. The house was clean and warm, with an inexplicable sense of gentleness. A bowl of hot soup was placed on the wooden table, and white mist was rising upwards.

  When Qin Ting'an picked it up, the temperature was still hot, warming his fingertips: "Grandma drink."

  She stepped on her feet to hold it to the old man, filled another bowl for herself, and then sipped the soup, and asked calmly, "Aren't Mom and Dad here yet?"

  Grandma rubbed her head, sighed and said: "Your sister is not in good health, Zhinan and the others will take her to the hospital for more checkups, and she will come."

  Qin Ting'an is used to it, but today is different, it's her birthday.

  She and her sister are twins, born only one hour apart, so one's birthday is on Christmas Eve, and the other's birthday is on Christmas Day.

  I can always hear from my parents that it was because she absorbed too much nutrition in her mother's stomach, which led to dystocia when giving birth to her younger sister, and made Su Yiling born weak.

  Qin Ting'an has listened to it for a long time, and he also feels guilty. He wants to make up for his sister, but it often backfires.

  The old man said that he remembered things at the age of three, and Qin Ting'an felt that it was not unreasonable. Most of the memories before the age of three were blurred, but since the age of three, she accidentally heard the elders whispering...

  Their voices were played very softly, as if they were afraid of being noticed by passers-by, but also mixed with absurdity and boredom.

   "That Taoist is talking nonsense, what mutual generation and mutual restraint? They are sisters!"

   "Keep down, that's the master Zhi Nan specially invited from Nanji Temple to tell Yiling's fortune."

   "You don't listen to what this Taoist priest is saying, and you have to send one of them away. The palms and backs of the hands are all meat. How is that possible?"

While talking, a sigh intermingled with the voice and fell, "Yi Ling is also a poor child. He has been nourished by his sister since he was born, and he has a lot of fate. He is only three years old, and he was almost hit by a falling Christmas tree today. My head, why are there so many accidents?"

   Someone was silent, and said for a long time: "It can't be true..."

   Someone urged: "Zhi Nan, you should say something, what do you think?"

  The protagonist of the story has never spoken.

  The memory stops here abruptly, and those words that should have been blurred become clearer with each passing year.

   For a long time, the gossip she heard became Qin Ting'an's nightmare, causing her to be in a state of anxiety for a long time, because she was confused, timid, and afraid of being abandoned.

  Until the day when I was four years old—an accident happened without warning, like a storm coming, quickly tearing away the peace and warmth on the surface of this family.

   She doesn't seem like a birthday fit.

   It doesn't matter, anyway, her birthday has always been celebrated on Christmas with her younger sister.

Qin Ting'an thought so, the temperature of the soup bowl she was holding in both hands had already cooled down, and the soup was solidified and slightly cold, touching her fingertips through the porcelain bowl, her little finger curled up slightly, and she swallowed the last mouthful of soup, leaving Has a bitter aftertaste.

   "An'an, do you want to go to bed? It's eight o'clock, and tomorrow is Saturday, so there is no class."

  Under the warm yellow light, behind the old wallpaper, the old man is smiling with his eyes bent, and in those brown eyes is the shadow of a little girl.

  Grandma gave birth to Zhi Nan very late, her last child, who is now eighty-five years old.

  Mom and Dad often take their younger sister to see a doctor, so they always send Qin Ting'an to her grandma's house. Most of Qin Ting'an's childhood memories are spent with her grandma, and they are very close.

  Qin Ting'an raised his hand to touch his grandma's face, shook his head, his voice was soft and serious.

   "Before school in the morning, I asked my mother if she could celebrate my birthday with me today, and my mother agreed. I will wait for her."

   Promised one thing, she shouldn't break her promise, Mr. Qin Ting'an is so stubborn that although she has been broken many times, she still looks forward to the next time, and her expectations are met, even just once.

The little girl sat obediently on the sofa, wearing an off-white plaid sweater, small leather boots, and two kittens embroidered on the white socks, which looked small, with fair skin, black hair, and red lips. When she raised her head, she had a milky and serious expression on her face.

  Grandma said since she was a child that An An in our family is beautiful, and she will definitely grow into a big girl in the future.

  Grandma didn't persuade her anymore, took out an apple, and handed it to Qin Ting'an with a smile: "I think you all give this, if others have it, we, An'an, also want to have it."

   "Happy birthday, niece."

  *

This extra episode complements the reincarnation of the ninth generation. It is a story that I have always wanted to write but never started. I put it here. company.

  The new book should be released, and you may see the hero and heroine of the new book appear in this episode hahaha.

   It's almost over, let's vote for Anzai, I love you, refill.