If the little angel sees anti-theft, it means the purchase rate is not high enough~
However, tomorrow's class was very different: the Luo clan had a guest official named Luo Cang, a close relative of the Luo clan. Technically, Luo Jiujiang could even call him Fourth Uncle. This man possessed profound cultivation and high status, rarely appearing in public unless involved in a major genocide. He would appear only once every ten years to teach a few classes in the clan school titled "Sound Killing."
If he had not stated in advance that he would only teach young people with outstanding talents, I am afraid that many parents of young boys would have been too embarrassed to run into the clan school to attend classes.
"Are you still going to meditate in my courtyard today?" Luo Jiujiang tied his hair and skillfully placed his arm on Han Qianling's shoulder. "I asked Miss Niaoyan in the kitchen to make some deep-fried snowflake cake. You're in for a treat."
"Next time." Han Qianling sighed, pressing Luo Jiujiang's hand against his own. He raised his arm, and his sleeve slid down, revealing a string of Buddhist beads wrapped around his wrist. "I'm going back to serve my mother today."
Hearing the word "mother", Luo Jiujiang's originally cheerful and happy expression couldn't help but tighten, and his brows furrowed slightly: "Auntie, I'll go with you..."
Han Qianling knew what he was worried about and patted the back of his hand twice. "No need to worry. Don't worry, I will be back tonight. Such a delicacy as deep-fried ice cream must have been prepared specially for me by you. How dare I not enjoy it carefully?"
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Mentioning Han Qianling's life experience is really embarrassing.
His mother was originally a girl from the Chen family on Daimao Island. She left the island more than ten years ago and there was no news of her since. When she returned to Daimao Island alone, she was not only pregnant, but also mentally ill, spitting and cursing all day long, and had an extremely vicious personality.
No one could ask Han Qianling's mother about the identity of Han Qianling's father. As a child with an unknown father, he chose the name "Han Qianling" himself when he was a child.
Since he was a child, many people have laughed at him and talked about his identity in front of him and behind his back, calling him an illegitimate child, a bastard child, or even... a child born out of wedlock.
In the past, Luo Jiujiang had secretly put many gossipy boys in jail for this matter. He once caught a group of teenagers with extremely dirty words, forced them to take off their clothes on the spot, tied them up with ropes, and threw them naked into the deserted shallow sea.
Later I heard that the group of teenagers went home with seaweed hanging on their bodies to cover their private parts.
As for those girls who commented on Han Qianling's life experience, Luo Jiujiang would not do anything to them, but once he knew about it, he would be very harsh on them.
Han Qianling certainly couldn't be unaware of his friend's actions. He always laughed off these rumors, but he was still very grateful for Luo Jiujiang's defense.
As his talent and cultivation became more and more outstanding, speculation about his father's identity became more and more diverse. But while everyone was still speculating, Han Qianling had already learned about his own life experience in a very strange way.
The meat porridge in the pot gradually gave off an enticing aroma. Han Qianling carefully filled a bowl, used a cold ice technique to adjust the temperature to just the right temperature, and then thoughtfully brought it to Chen's bedside.
"It's time to eat."
He used the finest Qilin Spirit Rice to make his porridge. It was not only full of spiritual energy, but also delicious and smooth. It had the effect of strengthening the body and beautifying the complexion. It could even be used as a fasting pill. One meal could ensure that one could go five days without food.
Not only the food is extremely precious, but everything in Chen's bedroom, such as the emerald jade pillow for clearing the mind and sleeping, the red velvet quilt that is warm in winter and cool in summer to calm the emotions, the palace flower fan that is a low-grade magic weapon beside the pillow and can calm the mind and nourish the energy, and the cicada-listening box that contains a thousand pieces of music composed by famous artists...all of them are exquisite and expensive.
Han Qianling usually wore simple clothes, and his daily necessities were even simpler. As a young genius, the Luo family wooed him, treating him better than other clan members, not to mention monthly salaries and festival gifts.
Many people were skeptical: these daily perks didn't seem to make Han Qianling's life any better. Where did his money go? Could it be that he was born poor and stingy, unwilling to spend even a single spirit bead on himself?
If those who think this way come to see Chen's wing, all their doubts will be answered: even ordinary guests in the clan would find it difficult to maintain such a life of luxury.
Chen's eyes were dull and numb, and she kept mumbling to herself, as if she hadn't even seen her son. Han Qianling gently helped her sit up, placed two soft pillows behind her back, and carefully tucked a soft, white napkin into her collar. He stirred the bowl with a spoon.
"You blind, tongue-tied bastard, a beast in human skin..." After eating a spoonful of meat porridge, Chen seemed to have gained some strength, and the curses she had been muttering became louder.
Han Qianling's expression was calm, not even his eyebrows moved, and he still steadily scooped up a spoonful of just the right amount in his hand, carefully and attentively passed it to Chen's mouth, and fed it to her when she spit out a vicious word and opened her mouth slightly.
While swallowing the porridge in her mouth, Chen spat out a string of dirty words in an unclear voice. Porridge foam kept splashing from the corners of her mouth, and was wiped away gently by Han Qianling.
This action was quite troublesome. In order to prevent the porridge from getting cold during the delay, Han Qianling kept practicing the magic formula to ensure that the porridge was simmered over a low fire and maintained at the perfect temperature.
After the age of ten, Han Qianling had almost stopped communicating with Chen - she couldn't hear.
Her soul had been torn apart in the accident more than a decade ago, which had almost cut off all her perception and emotions of the outside world. Only a bit of filthy resentment and a vicious remnant soul remained inside her, and she might still have retained very few of her five senses to the outside world.
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