Three days later, Gufia Grassland.
The iron-nailed wheels rolled over the soft grass, and the carriages were shaking a little in the field. Five carriages were moving on the road, three of them were carrying cargo, and two were carrying passengers, heading south.
The gray-white wooden carriage was very ordinary, and the coachmen driving it were several humans. If you look closely, you will find that this group of people are the bards who performed at the Flame Conference and invited Loran Hill before.
The young coachman drove the horse slowly. As the sun rose higher, he felt a little hungry, so he shouted back.
"Sister, I'm hungry~"
"Find something to eat yourself." A female voice said unhappily.
"I'm busy now."
"Are you really my sister? I shouldn't have been instigated by you to run so far and get so tired." The younger brother grumbled a little dissatisfiedly.
"Here." The front window of the carriage was pushed open, and a girl with a black ponytail stuffed the bread into her brother's mouth, blocking his mouth that was about to complain.
"Oh, sister, can this promise really be made, eh~" the driver's brother asked while chewing bread.
"No problem. If our newly compiled 'Poem of the Red Bird' can be completed successfully, it will definitely surpass the 'Poem of the Kingfisher' from more than ten years ago. Then you will be rich and able to marry a beautiful girl." The woman said with a little excitement, without stopping her hands.
From the open window, I could see a small table inside, covered in a mess of books, quills, paints, ink bottles, etc. There were some sentences scribbled on the drawings, along with sketches that seemed to depict some scene.
The smartly dressed young woman picked up her sketchbook again, flipped open a page, and continued painting. Vivid paint danced freely across the surface, quickly sketching a breathtaking scene. It was thanks to the poet's extraordinary skill that she could paint easily even from the swaying carriage.
"Who would have thought that we would be so lucky this time and actually witness the legend with our own eyes."
Thinking carefully about the extraordinary scene I saw that day, as the paint continued to fill up, I was surrounded by emerald green forests, with fluorescent flowers blooming between the shades of the trees. In the center of the moonlit picture, a girl in a white dress was sitting on a branch, playing the harp and singing. Although her face was blurry, the fairy-like beauty still brought people endless shock.
The poems that are passed down have never stopped. The stories of the past may be gradually forgotten by people, but new legends have also begun to be written.
In the center of the once rugged and majestic Gufia grassland, there is now a statue with exquisite and light style.
A young girl stands in the wind, her long sleeves and dress fluttering in the wind, her hands raised high, as if flames are blooming in her palms, and there is lush grass around her skirt and feet.
The statue's dress is flowing and the flames are lifelike, but the girl's face is not depicted in detail. The perfect amount of blank space has aroused the imagination of countless people.
Despite the scorching sun, the statue was still crowded with people who came to express their gratitude. They held alfalfa in their hands, kowtowed to express their gratitude, and chanted Ailani's name with pious expressions.
A few birds landed on the statue's shoulders, looked at the crowd below, tilted their heads, chirped, and then flapped their wings and took off. Beneath the cloud-filled sky, the green wilderness was boundless, and the flowing crowd stretched all the way to the distant horizon.
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Half a year later, Loran Hill returned to her original home again. The fiery red maple leaves were falling, and she pushed open the wooden door that had been covered in dust for a long time in the afterglow of the setting sun.
The furnishings in the house were the same as before, just covered with a little dust.
"Looks like it's time to clean up."
The girl did it right away. She first tied her hair with a headband and put on a cotton home dress. Then she took out a wooden bucket from the room and fetched water from the stream not far outside the courtyard.
puff--
The maple barrel fell into the water, and then gurgled up the clear, cold mountain spring water. Occasionally, a few crimson maple leaves flowed into the barrel, and were carefully picked out by the girl before falling back into the water.
The clear stream reflects the dense layers of maple leaves in the sky, and the fiery red maple leaves also dye the stream water into an intoxicating red.
Carrying the half-full wooden bucket back to the maple cabin, Loran Hill took down a thick white cotton rag from the cabinet. He dipped the rag in water, moistened it, and then took it out, not needing to wring it out too dry.
First, the furniture inside. Due to the excellent waterproof properties of the extraordinary maple wood, and the fact that she had sealed it with the magic of the natural sequence, it was basically leak-proof. When cleaning, there was no need to worry about getting the items stored inside wet.
The water was scattered in thin streams on the cabinets and tables, and as the girl scrubbed them, they began to return to their original red maple color.
First, scrub it roughly, then change a rag and scrub it carefully a second time. For some concave corners, carefully press the rag with your fingers, reach in and wipe them clean.
After scrubbing the furniture, it's time to clean the floor.
The girl squatted down and placed the rag on one side of the floor. She pressed it down a little, then pushed it to the other side. The water marks flowed across the gray floor, revealing its original reddish-brown color.
After repeating this process several times, the first room was roughly cleaned.
Then the second, the third... until all the rooms have been roughly scrubbed.
The black sewage is collected and dumped into a small field behind the courtyard as a way of recycling waste.
Then I fetched another bucket of clean water and scrubbed it a second time. After this scrubbing, the dirty water was much lighter.
By the time everything was cleaned, it was dark.
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