Because of this, Han Qianling never considered the price of the items when decorating Chen's bedroom. Chen's bedroom was extremely luxurious and comfortable. The screens and green plants were changed monthly to please the eyes; each song in the cicada box had its own flavor to please the ears; the food was exquisite and delicious to please the taste; the bedding and pillows were soft and comfortable to please the senses.
All the efforts he put in here were for the comfort of Chen's few five senses that were almost "possible to retain".
Ordinary people use their spirits to control their bodies, but Chen's spirit is incomplete, leaving only a single evil thought in his spirit altar. This evil thought has grown increasingly weaker and more powerless over the years, and in recent years, he has lost control of even his hands and feet, only his five senses. If it weren't for the fact that cultivators don't have to worry about urination and defecation, Han Qianling would have a lot of things to deal with.
After feeding her a bowl of meat porridge, Han Qianling placed the bowl and spoon on the small table beside him. He ignored all the curses Chen hurled at him and simply pressed her wrist with familiarity.
Compared to the last time he took Chen's pulse, this time it was even weaker, almost nonexistent. A doctor present would undoubtedly be amazed: with such a weak pulse, how could the master still have the energy to curse?
Han Qianling didn't express any curiosity about the matter; Chen's pulse reading was within his expectations. Han Qianling withdrew his finger without changing his expression, saying calmly, "Your time is up."
Chen turned a deaf ear to this. She was no longer able to use her mind to understand the meaning of these words, and of course she could not make any response.
Han Qianling went to the kitchen and took care of the bowl of porridge that Chen had just eaten. When he appeared in front of Chen again, he still looked calm and composed, and his tone was even polite: "Do you have any last wishes?"
He listened for a moment, but of course did not receive any meaningful answer.
"Girls love to take care of their appearance. Since you don't want to ask, I will put on makeup for you." Han Qianling took out the dressing box from the dressing table which had been there for five or six years but the items on it had never been moved, and spread out the cosmetics and flowers on the small table.
He used a black stone to draw Chen's eyebrows, smudged her cheeks with rouge to create a perfect blush, and finally carefully applied lipstick. Han Qianling shook his head with a hint of regret: Chen's lips kept opening and closing, and it seemed that this lip makeup would not last long.
Han Qianling took Chen's hand and painted each of her ten fingers with nail polish. After finishing the last little nail, he methodically put all the items back into the dressing box.
"Goodbye then." Han Qianling bowed slightly to Chen for the last time, closed the triple screen door of the wing room without any reluctance, and left the room calmly.
…
When Luo Jiujiang came back from practicing swordsmanship, Han Qianling was standing under the deep snow tree in his yard, quietly admiring the snow-white flowers on the tree that were as white as clouds and jade.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his sleeves fluttering, his expression calm and composed, not unlike a human being. Noticing Luo Jiujiang approaching from behind, Han Qianling's brows slowly relaxed, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"You asked me to come, so I came. Where's my deep-fried ice cream?"
"I've left some for you in the room." Luo Jiujiang casually took his sleeve and said, "I thought you wouldn't be back tonight, so I asked me to bring you some cakes tomorrow morning. Hey, is Auntie feeling any better?"
"It will be fine soon." Han Qianling replied slowly.
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The next day, the two arrived at the school early. The other people in the room looked at Han Qianling for a second longer, and then turned their eyes away without objection - although her mother was a daughter of the Chen family, Han Qianling did not belong to the Chen family.
Not to mention that he was not recorded in the Chen family genealogy in his early years, and that he took the surname Han, the fact that he lived with Luo Jiujiang for more than 20 days every month, received the monthly salary of the Luo family on weekdays, and even represented the Luo family in a competition a year ago, etc., made it clear that the difference between Han Qianling and the members of the Luo family was actually only a name on the family tree.
As for Han Qianling's coming to "crash the class" this time, Luo Jiujiang had of course already informed his father, who was also the patriarch of the Luo family.
It was still a while before class started, and Luo Jiujiang sat by the window. He smiled at Han Qianling, quietly opened the window a crack, and whistled softly at a seven-forked bird perched on a branch not far away.
The author has something to say: Thank you little angels for voting for me~
Thanks to the little angels who cast [mines]: Tanxia Mio 1, Wenzheliu in the night song 1, Jiuqian 1, Xie Yanzhao 1, Yuxi 1
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Thanks to the little angels who irrigated the nutrient solution: Blue Snow Fruit 74 bottles, Lu Mingchuan 68 bottles, Wanli Fengcheng 40 bottles, Jiuqian 30 bottles, Dong Yilan 24 bottles, Who Reads the West Wind 20 bottles, Yan Heguang 20 bottles, Nanzhan Qiao 20 bottles, Don't Cry 20 bottles, Ye Li 12 bottles, Xingxu Piaofei 10 bottles, At that time, the moon was 10 bottles, Komaeda Nagito 10 bottles, Ziyi Qingxiang & Zui Shaohua 6 bottles, Tomorrow 5 bottles, Lingran Liuxing 1 bottle
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