Chapter 147 (1/2)

”Second Lord, is it really you?” Lu Ziming threw himself on the old man's leg sitting in the middle and knelt for a few steps. His tears couldn't stop flowing down.

The old man slowly raised his withered arm and shook Lu Ziming's head in a trembling voice. Mumbling, ”Xiao Zhi is back, and finally you * re back...”

At this moment, the world was quiet, leaving only the old man's deep sigh and hard gasp, ”all gone, only you came back... Life...!”

”Second Lord! It's me, back!” Lu Ziming's eyes were filled with tears, and scenes of childhood flashed before his eyes.

A boy holding a wooden sword, surrounded the ancient cypress in the ancestral hall, chasing a group of children playing the role of hunting and fighting. A toddler cried and wrapped his nose around an old man. The difficult girl told the tragedy of being bullied, complained about being cut by other children, and raised her withered arm to look for the protection of the old man.

The old man held the child in his arms, wiped the tears and thick snot on his face, turned out a yellow book and told the child strange ghost stories. At the beginning, the young child hid in the arms of the old man. Finally, the old man told the story in the book. The young child curiously grabbed the old man's beard and pulled off several white beards every time.

The young children grow up day by day. Every time they are bullied, they always find the old man to tell their grievances, but the old man always gives an eternal smile and tells the stories in the books again and again in the young children's ears, as if nothing can affect the old man.

When the young children grew up, they knew what the old man was talking about. However, the young children regarded these stories as myths and legends. The teacher told the young children that they were feudal remnants, and there were no demons and ghosts in the world.

In the memory of the young children, the old people rarely leave the ancestral hall. The girls in the mountain village can't play in the ancestral hall after they are 12 years old. Only the young children always go to the ancestral hall to see the kind old man every time they come back from school.

Time is like a big wave washing sand. Too many things are wiped out by time, and too many things are carried by the big wave and can't be forgotten. Maybe it's because the parents of the young child are not around for a long time. The young child has already regarded the ancestral temple as another harbor of his mind.

The fairy tales of the old people have never happened. Even in the vast mountains, there is no need to see demons and ghosts, but young children are still willing to listen to the old man's chatter.

”Just come back!” the old man seemed to have fallen asleep and didn't move. Every long time, some words that he didn't understand suddenly came out.

”Second uncle, come with me. I'll find a safe place where there is food...”

The old man didn't respond. If he didn't see the thin chest, he would even think that the old man had gone.

”Just come back...!”

Lu Ziming didn't dare to disturb the old man in his false sleep. The old man's calloused palms stayed on his forehead and didn't move any more, as if they were still and stiff.

”Second master...!”

”Just come back...!”

”Second uncle, I have water here!”