Not only were Qu Qiushi's legs shaking, but even his lower body was extremely unstable. In the dark, he almost fell to the ground.
If the gates of hell open, let them open.
As a medical student, he has dealt with human lives and blood.
He is not afraid whether the gates of hell are open or not.
It was very strange that this sister said the three words "the gates of hell are opening" in such a resounding tone.
It was as if this ghost gate was opened at her command...
Qu Qiushi's smile was forced. "It's the fifteenth... the moon is full. I wanted to invite my sister to watch the full moon together. I always feel that life is impermanent, just like the waxing and waning of the moon, and the ebb and flow of the tide..."
Xianjin looked over in disbelief, "Moon-watching? What moon-watching? The ginger paste is cold—"
Xianjin walked forward, and as he walked, he kindly taught his brother the principles of life, "Since the old lady asked us to come and urge Jiang Rongsu, we must follow her instructions and complete them word for word. What's the difference between us admiring the moon while doing our work and working for four hours and going to the toilet for two hours?"
Xianjin was filled with indignation, "This is a scam! If this gets out, which employer will be willing to hire us in the future?"
Qu Qiushi: ...
He was helpless, as helpless as a child without an umbrella in a rainstorm.
He didn't know how to roar to Xianjin in a calm and gentle tone: The old lady did it on purpose! Just to make us alone in the middle of the night! In the watery night, the relationship quickly heats up! It's best to get engaged tomorrow! Get married the day after tomorrow! Have a baby the day after tomorrow!
He doesn't understand.
What is the difference between the girls in Xuancheng and those in Baishui Town?
Or is it simply that this beautiful and capable sister's brain develops differently from that of ordinary girls?
In Baishui Town, generally speaking, within three days at most, even the coldest girl would start to smile at him.
This sister was a strange person - she was not cold as ice, and sometimes she would even smile brightly at him, but...how could such a beautiful, rosy mouth utter such poor and pale words!
He was like a seasoned courtesan who met a man who hadn't taken his medicine.
He had no place to use all his skills, and it felt like he had millions of fleas jumping on him and thousands of swords tickling him.
No matter how weak an old man is, there will be a day when he will be brave and heroic - Qu Qiushi encouraged himself in his heart, but when he looked up, he found that Xianjin had disappeared.
Qu Qiushi's face was a little distorted: He could probably reasonably guess that this sister ran so fast just to get the ginger paste earlier and show off in front of the old lady before him?
A welcoming banquet ended with the ginger paste served by Xianjin, and the second core meeting of the Chen family began - Old Madam Qu called Chen Jianfang to the Bi Ma Hall and asked him a lot of questions, and only let Chen Jianfang go to see his mother until the night watch.
The eldest son of the family still lives in the most central courtyard of the Chen family. There were bright lights on in the main hall. When Chen Jianfang pushed the door open, he saw his own mother painting under the light. She was holding a silver-hair brush as thin as a hair and was drawing the back hair of a budgie.
Chen Jianfang stood there tiptoeing, afraid that his breath would disturb his mother's painting technique.
After she finished drawing a fat parrot, Duan let out a long breath, looked up and saw her son. A bright smile finally appeared in the depths of her eyes, "You're finally back?"
Chen Jianfang handed his mother a silk handkerchief to wipe her hands and said respectfully, "You're back."
Mrs. Duan smiled and poured tea and served snacks to her son. "...I said it was a welcome party for you. I saw you staring at a piece of tofu all night...but you ate a lot of ginger crisps in the end. I never thought you liked ginger-flavored snacks before."
Chen Jianfang lowered his head and took a bite of the mung bean cake. It was crispy and numb, and the pastry melted in his mouth. It was still not as delicious as the ginger cake.
“Now I love eating it too.”
Chen Jianfang said softly, "My son is unfilial. He did not go back to Xuancheng with his uncle, nor did he inform his mother in advance. He made the decision on his own."
Duan Shi didn't understand where this "unfilial piety" came from...
The only son and the husband are very similar, but also different. The similarities are that they are both walking in the river carrying cotton on their backs. The further they go, the more water the cotton absorbs, and the more tired they become. The differences are that the husband is very tired and wants to get rid of the cotton, but the cotton seems to have grown hands and feet and tightly entangles his body. However, the son consciously and voluntarily carries the cotton on his back. When the cotton becomes heavier and heavier, he does not pursue the weight of the cotton but instead reflects on his lack of strength.
The husband was dragged into the deep river by cotton and drowned.
She was not sure whether her son would gain more strength as a result or would repeat his past mistakes.
Duan was silent for a while, then said, "How can you be unfilial? You can do whatever you want, as long as you are worthy of the heavens above, the earth below, and yourself in the end. If you like, you can even not take the imperial examination, and be a farmer for the rest of your life. You are still the bravest son of your mother."
Chen Jianfang smiled and said, "If I don't take the imperial examination, what should I do?"
My mother has always been a dreamer. She does many things as she pleases without thinking. When my father was alive, she had support. Now, if he doesn't work harder, how long can my mother continue to live like this?
Chen Jianfang didn't know what to say to his mother, so he could only chat with her in a disjointed manner. When it came to the painting of a hundred birds that Duan was painting, Chen Jianfang smiled and said respectfully, "...The brushwork is delicate and the colors are elegant. You still have your skills."
Duan smiled, "In the middle of last month, Mrs. Zhang from the Silk Shop saw the fan paintings I had made when I was young and said she really liked my flower and bird paintings and was willing to pay me 100 taels of silver to paint. I thought it was just a painting anyway, so it didn't matter whether I took the money or not, the main thing was that I liked it, so I decided to paint a picture of a hundred birds."
Chen Jianfang couldn't help but frown when he heard this.
Selling paintings?
How can a mother sell paintings?
"But grandma withheld your monthly salary?" Chen Jianfang asked with a frown.
Duan smiled and waved her hands, "If she deducts the money, don't I know to go to the warehouse to get it myself?"
Chen Jianfang frowned even more tightly, "But Mrs. Zhang kept pestering me, using threats and inducements, and you had to do it out of consideration for the relationship?"
Mrs. Duan did not understand her son's idea and waved her hands quickly, "No, no, no, Mrs. Zhang is a very kind person with a gentle temperament. She just mentioned it, but I remembered it in my heart. Wasn't the former Qing'an famous for her paintings? Although I am far from her, I really like flower and bird paintings. If someone is willing to pay for them, I will be flattered!"
Chen Jianfang was silent for a while, then he forced a smile and said, "Son... doesn't understand..."
The smile on Duan's face faded, and after a moment she asked, "Then do you support it?"
Chen Jianfang rested his hands on his knees, as if thinking - he really didn't understand... Although his mother was not a boudoirist, she was also a woman. He was not afraid that his mother's works would be sold to the market, but he also didn't think it would be a good deal if it caused a big disturbance.
A gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall, so why should a mother take the risk?
Chen Jianfang was silent for a moment, and said, "Your painting of a hundred birds is halfway done. It would be a pity to stop now."
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