The little glutinous rice dumpling raised its head suddenly and called out "Father" in a soft voice, but still hugged my legs hard.
I was so exhausted by him that I couldn't turn around.
And because he was older than he knew how many generations, he was too embarrassed to bend down to pry off his fingers, so he had to stand.
The man who was my father had already taken a few hurried steps and walked around to me.
Because we were really close, I lowered my head, and all I could see was a pair of black-soled cloud boots and a corner of a black robe with dark embroidered cloud patterns.
He sighed: "Susu."
It suddenly dawned on me that this voice was from Su Suhuan, and it was none other than Xiaben Shangshen.
Fourth brother often says that I am forgetful, but I still remember that over the past hundreds of thousands of years, some people have called me Xiaowu, some have called me Ayin, and some have called me Seventeen.
Of course, most people have called me aunt, but they have never called me aunt.
Someone once called me Susu.
It happened that the little glutinous rice dumpling let go and rubbed his own eyes.
I quickly took a step back and looked up with a smile: "My dear fairy, I don't have good eyesight.
I'm afraid I might have recognized the wrong person."
After saying this, he had no reaction, but I was shocked.
Li Liyuan is on the grass, sleeping in spring without waking up to dawn.
The face of Xiao Nuomi Dumpling's father is really like my mentor Mo Yuan.
But after all, I still didn’t mistake him for Mo Yuan.
Seventy thousand years ago, during the chaos of the ghost tribe, the long river surged and red flames burned the sky.
Mo Yuan locked the ghost king Qing Cang in the East Emperor Bell on the shore of Ruoshui, but his cultivation was gone and his soul was scattered.
I tried my best to save his body, brought him back to Qingqiu, and kept him in Yanhua Cave, where he was fed with a bowl of raw blood every month.
Mo Yuan is the eldest son of God the Father, the supreme god in the world who controls music and war.
I never believed that one day he would die, and even now, I don’t believe it.
So I just waited silently, raising him with a bowl of my heart's blood every month, so that one day, he could call me "Little Seventeen" with a smile but not a smile.
Thinking of this, I feel a little sad.
But the current situation does not seem to be suitable for sadness.
As the old saying goes, after a big shock there will be a bigger shock.
Before I could recover, the glutinous rice dumpling dad in front of me had waved his sleeves and picked off the white silk that bound my eyes, and I reflexively closed my eyes tightly.
He raised his hand and stroked my forehead.
The little glutinous rice dumpling was shaking his voice and shouting, "Deng disciple, Deng disciple."
Over the years, I have always been very peaceful.
Even when the red fox Feng Jiu jumped over the wall and pulled up all the Ganoderma lucidum grass in front of my cave, I never argued with her.
But at this moment, the veins on his forehead were beating happily.
"Unbridled."
I haven't used this sentence pattern for many years, but now that I'm revisiting it, it's a bit unfamiliar.
The little glutinous rice dumpling came to pull the hem of my skirt and timidly said: "Mother is angry?"
His father hasn't been heard from for a long time.
It took a long time, but the white silk was finally tied to me again, and then she said: "Yes, I recognized the wrong person.
She has never acted like you, with a stern look and a soft heart, nor is she as beautiful as you.
Just now, I was offended."
After this half-close distance, I could see clearly that the lapels and sleeves of his black brocade robe were all embroidered with dragon patterns of the same color.
Although I haven't left Qingqiu for tens of thousands of years, fortunately I still have a vague memory of the basic etiquette of the gods.
Except for Tianjun's family, who have lived in poverty and fallen into the underworld, none of the gods have become impatient and dared to wear clothes on their robes.
Embroidered dragon pattern.
Look at the glutinous rice dumplings in his hands.
I secretly thought that this young man in black brocade robe is probably Tianjun's proud grandson Ye Huajun.
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It is a pity that such a talented person from Linfeng Yushu, at such a young age, has to marry an old woman like me.
It really makes me sigh with regret.
God is unfair and unfair.
Because of this relationship, I have always been deeply sorry to him.
So at this moment, even though I was offended, because I thought he was Lord Ye Hua, I actually had the illusion that I had offended him, so I could only laugh and said, "Fellow Immortal, please be polite."
He looked at me with cold and deep eyes.
I took a step to the side to get out of the way.
The little glutinous rice dumpling still sniffled and called me mother.
I thought that sooner or later I would really have to be his stepmother, so I just smiled and endured it.
Ye Hua held Xiao Nuomi Dumpling's hand and quickly disappeared around the corner.
It was only then that I suddenly remembered that if I let the two father and son go, who would take me out of this garden?
I quickly chased after him, but I couldn't even see the figure. tgt: