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 bird started at the sound of Luo Jiujiang's whistle, its head swerving left and right before finally settling on the crack in the window. Just as it flapped its wings and flew towards the window, a hand reached over Luo Jiujiang's shoulder and firmly closed the window.
"Qianling?"
"Be nice to the bird." Han Qianling sighed. He remembered something that Luo Jiujiang had done in the past.
Luo Jiujiang obviously thought of the same point as Han Qianling. Just when he raised his eyebrows and was about to say something, a middle-aged man turned his wheelchair and slowly climbed over the threshold and entered the school.
The moment they saw the middle-aged man, the whole school fell silent.
The middle-aged man turned his wheelchair and looked over the students below with an indifferent look, finally stopping on Han Qianling.
The man spoke, coldly saying his first words since arriving here: "His last name is Yizhong, can he still attend my class?"
As soon as these words came out, Luo Jiujiang's face changed instantly.
On Daimao Island, few people were unaware of Han Qianling's past. Earlier, even names like "bastard" were popular. The middle-aged man's words weren't simply a desire to expel Han Qianling. "His surname is Yizhong" sounded innocent enough, but a more accurate translation revealed it to be a more refined version of "someone else's little bastard."
This was almost unbiased and hit the nail on the head for Han Qianling.
After hearing this, Luo Cang put down the wine jar involuntarily after just raising it halfway.
Luo Jiujiang looked drunk, half sitting, half lying on the ground, his expression full of the youthful spirit of a young man just starting out.
"Your swordsmanship is only sharp but not murderous. I called you here today because I wanted to take you to kill someone." Luo Cang looked at Luo Jiujiang with a hint of surprise on his face, "But now... I have changed my mind.
The author has something to say: Thanks to Shan Youxinyi for the shallow water bomb x1
Thanks to Liudie for the mine x1
Thanks to Kuanfen for the mine x1
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