Chapter 94 It's all the young master's fault

In the afternoon, the two of them wrote at the desk in the front hall.

Xu Binzhou, standing to the side, wore a dark cotton-linen shirt. The man had fine lines around his eyes. He leisurely sipped his tea, his deep gaze falling on the two of them, but he felt a sense of relief.

Xu Binzhou had originally planned to bring some trendy electronic devices to his place, but now they were useless. He was worried that his son might bring his girlfriend over and be too bored.

Practicing calligraphy is good; it cultivates the mind and body.

Nowadays, everyone says that calligraphy and painting are one. In front of the large sandalwood table in the front hall, above the main wall, are hung Xu Binzhou's works, including landscapes, flowers, birds and figures. Many of them are unpublished paintings and cannot be seen in art exhibitions.

Seeing Cong Chun so engrossed in watching, Duan Mingxiao pursed his lips slightly, realizing he had guessed correctly after all.

[Coming here is less comfortable than squeezing through crowds at an art exhibition.]

The young master cannot appreciate these paintings, nor can he fly or run on the ground. They must be carefully protected and cannot be exposed to water. There were rumors in the circle that Master Xu spends millions a year just to maintain these paintings.

For the young master, these were nothing more than scraps of paper, utterly useless.

It's better to burn it; at least it can provide warmth.

A stack of Xuan paper lay on the sandalwood desk, all written by Cong Chun in the afternoon, and now completely dry.

Duan Mingxiao originally wanted to take the opportunity to hold the person's hand and practice calligraphy a few more times, but Cong Chun "disliked" him.

Actually, Cong Chun politely declined. The young master had already held his hand to practice several times, and continuing to hold his hand would only hinder his calligraphy practice.

Moreover, practicing calligraphy requires a calm mind, but the young master always likes to use his hands and feet.

After an afternoon of practice, Cong Chun found writing calligraphy quite interesting. The characters hanging on the wall in the front hall, although they looked elegant, were actually very well-structured. Upon closer inspection, some of the characters resembled certain animals.

At the dining table, Duan Mingxiao buried his head in his rice, occasionally using serving chopsticks to put a few bites of food on Cong Chun's plate.

Seemingly worried that Cong Chun would be too reserved to do it himself, the young master's hands moved so fast they were almost blurry, and in no time the rice bowl in front of Cong Chun had become a small mountain.

The young master now desperately wants Old Man Xu to be sensible and finish his meal quickly so he can go and cultivate his mind.

He left himself and Cong Chun some space to be alone.

So, after finishing their meal, the two went to the backyard to digest their food, undisturbed by anyone else.

Under the gentle moonlight, a dark curtain was drawn across the sky. The temperature was no longer as hot as during the day. The lush vegetation here exuded a slight coolness, and the faint chirping of cicadas could be heard all around.

But the cicadas seemed to have inexhaustible energy, chirping incessantly.

This is Xu Binzhou's private residence. Because he loves the landscaping in "Suzhou-style gardens", he personally oversaw the design of the central courtyard.

Cong Chun walked into this winding corridor in the afternoon and found that the scenery changed with every step. At night, one could even peek at the moon through the window.

This place must have taken a lot of effort from the owner to design and build. Cong Chun's major is architecture, so he is naturally more sensitive to buildings with unique designs and styles.

However, the Crown Prince was displeased, regretting that he hadn't brought anyone with him.

Cong Chun completely ignored him; the young master had never been so inconspicuous.

Duan Mingxiao was unhappy. Although when he was out and about, there were always a bunch of annoying flies buzzing around his ears, saying greasy things that were disgusting.

However, the fact that Cong Chun, like a butterfly, didn't get close to him, also annoyed the young master.

Beside the small pond in the courtyard, a circle of smooth pebbles was laid out. Cong Chun held a handful of fish food and slowly sprinkled it down.

The two practiced calligraphy for an entire afternoon. Previously, the schools in town did not offer calligraphy classes; the town's curriculum consisted mainly of fixed exams. This was Cong Chun's first time encountering calligraphy.

However, he didn't have the opportunity to learn. When he was younger, Cong Chun liked to draw, so he would pick up tree branches from the roadside and scribble on the soft soil in the fields.

Cong Chun would even sharpen the ends of some branches to make them easier to write on.

At that time, Cong Chun had not yet started school. His grandmother gave him pencils to use when he went to school, and even a few colored ones. But little Cong Chun only knew that these things cost money, and he was reluctant to use them.

Later, Xiao Congchun gradually collected some small branches that he felt were nice to the touch or had a unique shape. He put them in a small iron box and washed them and put them back in after each use.

The small tin box was a box of egg rolls that my grandma bought in town during the Chinese New Year. The box was bright red and had a koi fish on it.

After slowly finishing the sweet egg roll, Xiao Congchun couldn't bear to throw it away, so she washed and dried the tin box and kept it so she could use it to store some things.

In the darkness, things were not as clear as during the day. Duan Mingxiao stared at Cong Chun's profile, remaining silent for a long time.

For some reason, the young master liked Cong Chun more and more, admiring every curve of her facial features, which were perfectly proportioned.

Although Duan Mingxiao knew he was good-looking, the young master didn't have a clear distinction between beauty and ugliness in others.

In the eyes of the young master, there are only those who are uglier than him, and those who look like no human at all. If you didn't know better, you would think that you had been run over by his racing car tires.

However, Duan Mingxiao thought Cong Chun was beautiful, even more beautiful than the dolls in the shop window.

In short, the Crown Prince didn't want to let go, and even wanted to hold the person in his arms at all times, so that the person's feet never touched the ground.

Cong Chun's palms are covered with thin calluses, and blisters sometimes form when they are soaked in cold water in winter.

The boy slowly scattered fish food into the pond with his slender hands, as if he were sowing seeds. The fish food spread out in circles in the pond with the ripples of the water.

Soon after, the colorful koi in the pond opened their mouths wide and swarmed towards them.

Most of these koi are varieties imported from Germany, and they are highly resistant to disease and very vigorous.

Duan Mingxiao lowered his eyes to look at the plump koi in the pond, their tails wagging happily. The young master couldn't help but lower his eyebrows, and a hint of impatience showed in his long, dark eyes.

[It's so noisy, I really want to kill it.]

Duan Mingxiao saw a group of koi fish pouting and swimming around Cong Chun. He frowned slightly, and the next second he couldn't help but speak, his tone clearly showing his disdain.

[It was as fat as a pig, wriggling in the water.]

Old Xu must have a lot of free time to feed these stinky fish so much, what a waste of fish food.

If you were to ask Duan Mingxiao what animal he hated most, it would undoubtedly be fish. The slippery feel of fish scales was enough to make his scalp tingle.

Moreover, there was always an indescribable fishy smell about her, and most importantly, she didn't fit his aesthetic standards.

Cong Chun paused, then looked up at the boy beside her, frowning, somewhat disapproving.

"Young master, please don't scold them."

In Cong Chun's eyes, flowers, trees, and crops in the fields are all capable of sensing the emotions of the outside world, as are animals.

Only when they are in a good mood can they grow better and better.

"They would be sad if they heard that."

"Just like a flower, the more you praise it, the better it will bloom."

Although Cong Chun didn't know why the strawberry seeds wouldn't sprout despite his daily encouragement, the flowerpots remained empty of soil, sitting forlornly on the balcony.

However, Cong Chun still expressed his own unwavering belief.

Duan Mingxiao rolled his eyes at the koi in the pond. The next second, the young master saw Cong Chun's droopy dog ​​eyes staring at him without moving.

It looks like a pet dog, but the way it looks at you isn't your owner, but a thief who has suddenly broken into your home.

Duan Mingxiao quickly raised his hand and made a zipping motion near his mouth, then nodded in agreement with Cong Chun's point of view, indicating that he would not speak.

Cong Chun was finally satisfied.

Unfortunately, while the young master stopped talking, his mind was far from calm.

In Chun Chun's mind, this young master isn't even as good as a fat worm.

[When Old Man Xu isn't looking one day, I'll braise this fat fish, or steam it, or deep-fry it... tsk, deep-frying seems like a more painful way to die.]

Cong Chun stopped what he was doing, and Duan Mingxiao's heart suddenly skipped a beat.

"What's wrong? Are you unhappy?"

Why is he unhappy? If only I knew what he was thinking.

Sigh, there aren't many men as considerate as me these days.

Cong Chun shook his head, his head bobbing slightly like a rattle drum, while the boy silently sprinkled fish food.

Before long, all the plump koi in the pond gathered around Cong Chun.

Once all the fish food in my hand was scattered into the pond, it was devoured by the koi.

Cong Chun then looked up and smiled at the boy in front of her.

Even though the boy's eyebrows were curved and the corners of his lips were turned up, Duan Mingxiao knew that the other person was not happy at all.

It all started with the dinner we had that night.

By the pond, the cicadas chirped incessantly in summer, and the koi in the pond flapped their tails merrily, even more boisterous than the little cuties.

Cong Chun suddenly stood up, clapped his hands, as if trying to brush away the fish food crumbs from his palm.

The next second, Cong Chun, like a newborn calf, suddenly pressed his round head against Duan Mingxiao's chest.

Cong Chun said something without understanding why.

"It's all the young master's fault."

Duan Mingxiao was stunned for a moment, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes. The boy raised his hand and patted Cong Chun's head reassuringly, his palm feeling soft against the skin.

"Okay, it's all my fault, it's all my fault."

So what is Chun Chun blaming me for?

Forget it, let's just admit our mistake first.

Admitting your mistake first is always the right thing to do.

Although Duan Mingxiao didn't know what Cong Chun was complaining about, he was willing to go along with him.

Only when facing Cong Chun would that majestic and invincible "lion" on the racetrack be willing to lower his proud head.

In the end, Cong Chun rested his head against Duan Mingxiao's chest without saying a word.

Although two years ago today was also the day my grandfather passed away.

If only Grandpa were still here.