Chapter 39:

When the lame woke up, he found that he had lost contact with his apostle. He realized that the disgusting, dirty monster who had been by his side was never able to summon anymore.
His heart was full of hatred. Since the broken leg, his life seems to be nothing more than hatred. The world is always full of malice towards him, as if he was never willing to be gentle. The world despised him contemptuously, and everyone laughed at him as a disability.
But he has a powerful apostle who can make and sell magical instruments that others don't have. Those people have to cheat him with pretense joy.
But now, he doesn't even have the only apostle. He really hates this world.
The muscles on the lame’s face trembled and he gritted his teeth and climbed up in the snow. He practiced for many years. Although he was seriously injured, he did not kill him. There was nothing left beside him, and the weather seemed to be worse than usual. It's cold.
A pair of black gold soap boots stopped in front of his eyes, and the lame man raised his head. On top of the boots was an exquisite cloud-patterned robe with an innocent guard against his waist. On top of it was a beautiful face like a jade tree and unparalleled beauty.
The man has a pair of amber pupils, with ice and snow in them, looking at himself condescendingly.
The was like falling into an ice cave, and couldn't help but start to tremble. This beautiful man was a monster next to that woman. He knew that the prototype of this demon was a huge silver-white wolf demon, powerful and terrifying, and could kill his powerful apostle in one move.
The fear from childhood captured the lame body, his hometown was destroyed by the claws of a huge thick-haired monster.
Sadly, there were no creatures like them in the eyes of that monster. He may just be going through a battle, or let out his temper at will. The sharp claws volleyed, the roar shook the ground, and the wave-like hair swept through the village. He stomped through the village with his limbs like Optimus Prime, inadvertently ruining everything he treasured most.
He would kill me, just like the monster of the year. The lame closed his eyes numbly.
"Do you remember a blue-black pony? Because he likes to eat sweets, when you were little, you always took a piece of caramel and waited for him at the back of the village." The voice of a monster came from the sky.
"Wh...what?" The lame was startled.
Those thick and foul-smelling memories were peeled away layer by layer, revealing the only innocent time hidden in them.
Faintly when he was very young, he had such a small pony.
The village was still there, and he was just a carefree child. In the back mountain of the village, he encountered a little pony with an unusually beautiful coat and not very afraid of humans.
He gave his only piece of candy to the pony, and they became friends ever since. Every time he came to the back mountain with the caramel he was reluctant to eat, the pony would happily rush towards him, lick his palms, and let him ride on his back.
The sky was full of sunshine, and the green grass was full of carefree joy. But I don't know from which day the pony stopped coming. The little boy held the candy in his hand and waited day after day on the hillside until it was mashed and could no longer be eaten, and the friend did not appear.
The years that followed became difficult and miserable, and the pain deeply buried the trivial joy of childhood. If it hadn't been mentioned by the demon before today, the would not even remember that there was such a happy and simple time in his life.
"Most of your companions couldn't succeed, but you got a powerful apostle like Cang Ju, do you know why?" The demon's voice seemed to start to move away, appearing ethereal and illusory.
"Why... why?" The lame man rolled his muddy eyes, "It is naturally because of my formation at the time..."
There seemed to be thunder in his ears, and his mind was noisy. At that time, he successfully contracted the apostle, and his pride and ecstasy eased all doubts. Thinking about it now, he also had to admit that his magic circle didn't seem to be much clever, and his magic power was actually not as powerful as Cang Ju's demon power.
But why did he get Cangju?
The blue is black, and the horse is a pony—on the grassy of the back mountain, the black horse licking his hand for candy.
The lame's pupils widened, and his teeth rattled.
"After he became an adult, he woke up from a deep sleep and ran towards you all the way, willing to be your apostle. At that moment, his mood, I wonder if you can understand it now?"
Nan He looked at the sluggish human in the mud and plunged into memory, pulled his steps from the snow, turned and left.
The man who stayed behind was over half a hundred years old, physically mutilated, lonely and gloomy, and no longer had any friends around him. I don't know whether his cruel and violent heart can occasionally think of the hillside that used to be and the horse that rushed towards him.
Nan He didn't know why he came back deliberately. Perhaps when he saw the scarred figure flying back to the spiritual world, he couldn't help thinking, at least he could convey his true heart to the human being in front of him.
...
At this moment, Yuan Xianger is sitting in the largest jewelry store in Dingzhou City, Fu Cui Xuan, a century-old brand with Wu Yuan.
She asked several companies and said that Fu Cui Xuan has the most outstanding skills in making this golden ball, and she recommended her to ask.
Fu Cui Xuan's shopkeeper is more than forty years old, and he looks steady and honest. He took the golden ball handed over by Yuan Xianger and looked at it for a long while. He was hesitant and raised his head and said: "This thing looks like a few years old. It’s illegible, and I asked the guests to take me into the back hall to sit for a while, and allow me to bring this object to ask my elders at home to see if there are still drawings made in the past."
Yuan Xianger followed him to an elegant hall after he moved to the entry store. Compared with the gorgeous style of the store, this hall in the backyard is decorated in a simple and elegant style, showing the heritage of a century-old home
Come.
The carved red sandalwood table is enshrined with ancient gold and bronze tripods, blue and white porcelain, nanmu tops on both sides, a large ink painting with meticulous brushwork and a pair of couplets carved in ebony.
When the shopkeeper left and entered, Yuan Xianger sat alone in the top seat and waited, admiring the painting while touching the black circle in his arms, "What are Nan He running back for? I haven't come here for a long time."
"Brother Nan must have taken revenge on my behalf. It is estimated that he has swallowed the lame man in one bite." Wu Yuan puffed out his head, "No, no, that human being is too stinky. Don't talk, don't lose your appetite."
Yuan Xiang'er laughed and laughed, "Don't run around when there are too many people. If you are caught by others, there will be no fish to eat."
"I don't care. I was scared today. I need to eat a whole bucket of dried fish."
Yuan Xiang'er lit the kitten’s nose: "Okay, go to the edge of Dongting Lake and eat the little whitebait just salvaged from the lake, let the store wrap it in flour and sprinkle some salt, and fry it tenderly on both sides, comfort us The frightened little Wuyuan."
Wu Yuan was happy now, forgetting the shock she had just received, jumping from Yuan Xianger's arms to the ground, wandering around the room,
"Hey, this painting looks like Tianlang Mountain. It reminds me of the last time we played golden ball with misogynists." Wu Yuan looked up at the calligraphy and painting hanging in the hall.
Yuan Xianger looked for her reputation, and saw the mountains and ridges in the painting, green pines reflecting the snow, and a pair of innocent girls with hanging temples under the pine trees happily kicking an exquisite golden ball. The two girls, one in brown clothes and the other in brocade robe, were portrayed vividly by the painter, with cheerful and vivid expressions as if time were frozen on a scroll.
There are couplets in the left and right books: the world is one hundred fine things, the world is exquisite; the ingenuity is unique, the temple is not forgotten.
Yuan Xiang'er looked at the girl's brilliant smile on the screen and frowned slightly. The traditional Chinese painting technique was not easy to recognize the faces of the characters, but she always felt that the girl in brown clothes had an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
At this time, a friendly-looking maid raised the curtain, came in with a tea tray, and offered Yuan Xiang'er tea with a smile.
"Sister trouble trouble, dare to ask who did this masterpiece in the hall come from?" Yuan Xianger asked her.
The maid smiled and raised her sleeves to cover her lips, "This painting was not painted by someone else, it was hand-made by our wife when she was young."
The girls of the merchants weren't like the maids in the family's Wang clan who were taught to keep silent since they were young and dare not speak. This little girl has a lively personality and is very talkative. Yuan Xiang'er is about the same age as her, and after a few conversations, she quickly became familiar. From her mouth, she learned some widely circulated past events in this century-old store.
Decades ago, this time-honored brand with exquisite craftsmanship almost broke its inheritance because of the lack of an heir in the family, and was missed by the villain. Later, thanks to the only female son in the family at that time, who is now Mrs. Tai, as a woman, she overcomes all difficulties and shoulders the responsibility of the family.
At that time, the wife resisted the rumors and gritted her teeth and refused to marry. She recruited a son-in-law in her 20s and finally led the family through the difficulties. Not only did she protect the family business, but she even carried forward her family heritage to the present. The degree of prestige.
"No one in Dingzhou knows about this, and no one knows. They praised my wife as a hero in female high school." The maid mentioned the legendary heroine of their family, her eyes shone with admiration.
"Everyone said that our wife is a person with the blessing of gods, so that she can be so intelligent and not inferior to men. It is said that when she was young, she was lost in the Sirius Mountains and the season of heavy snow. I was lost in the depths of the snow-capped mountains for more than a month at a young age." She closed her hands and bowed to the scroll, "Guess what happened in the end? It came out unscathed. Do you think this is protected by the gods? What?"
Yuan Xiang'er and Wu Yuan looked at the painting, you look at me and I look at you, and they were speechless for a long time. They finally remembered the story told by the misogynistic. There was a human girl who lost her way in the mountains. She ate and lived with her and played with the golden ball. In the end, the girl gave the ball to the misogynistic and never appeared again. Sirius Mountain.
"Your wife has a high life now?"
"Madame is going there after the New Year, there are sixty out of sixty. She is still very tough. She has to eat two bowls of rice for each meal, and she wakes up to play exquisite every morning."
Words were being spoken here, and a series of dense footsteps sounded outside the house.
The first one was an old lady with gray hair. She leaned on a sandalwood cane, walking hurriedly and looking excited.
"Don't stop me, who is it, who brought this exquisite ball? Quickly show me and see."
Behind her hurriedly chased her daughter-in-law and granddaughter, the maidservant and the maid, all carrying their skirts, running out of breath.
"Mrs. Tai wait a moment, carefully step down."
"Aniang slow down, be careful of falling, wife Rong will draw you a curtain first.
"Grandma too slow, wait for grandson."
The old lady ignored no one, raised her hand and raised the curtain, stepped in first and looked straight at Yuan Xianger.
Although she is a legendary woman in Dingzhou City, she hasn't been treated with mercy by the years, and she has already taken away her cardamom years without mercy.
Now she is standing under the hanging painting, in which Nini's daughter kicks the golden ball, time is forever. Draw the snowy temples and frosty hairs, and at dusk, with thin hands tightly grasping the deformed golden ball.
The old lady stared at Yuan Xiang'er for a long while, her old palm leaned on a cane, and she couldn't help trembling, and it took a long time to show a disappointed look, "No, you are not Abomin, where did you get this golden ball? "
She obviously accumulates great prestige in her daily life, and the big and small behind her followed up into the room, all curious, but no one dared to say much, only quietly looking at Yuan Xianger.
Yuan Xiang'er stood up, facing the burning eyes of a group of women, and didn't know where to start.