Chapter 1232 Living in Hometown 8
Stationery such as blank paper, pens and paints can be kept at home and announced to the public as being for children to use in school. However, the same cannot be said for works of art, for fear of causing trouble and danger. Sometimes the elderly will simply put their works on the kang to destroy them after admiring them after they are finished. Therefore, in Mr. Lu's opinion, it is better to store them in Feng Qingxue's mysterious and magical space as a commemoration.
Mr. Lu thought that his own skills were limited, but he was astounded by the works of these old friends. It would be better to leave them to his daughter-in-law and grandchildren as examples for copying and learning than to burn them.
After hearing what Father Lu said, Xi Bao couldn't help but complain, "It's not here yet? It's so slow!"
"Have you forgotten? It's winter now, and it's not easy for Xin to travel on the road." Father Lu touched his grandson's bald head, feeling a little guilty, because as he grew older, Xi Bao liked to play outside more and more, and his skin was tanned into a light wheat color.
"When will the road be easier to travel on so that yesterday's letter can reach Mom today?" Xi Bao asked.
Father Lu thought about it and said, "It probably won't be possible in a short time."
The old man was not oblivious to what was happening outside. He was well aware of the country's development. He rubbed his grandson's head and said, "But when Xi Bao grows up, see if anyone is interested and let him be a letter deliveryman." He felt that there was great development potential.
Suddenly, an idea flashed in her mind, and Xi Bao said, "Grandpa, Grandpa, can you ask Mom to come back? Mom said she would come back. If she comes back, I can see her every day and I don't have to write to her! Whether the letter arrives tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, it has nothing to do with us!"
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These words were like a bucket of ice water, pouring over Guan Yu's head in the middle of winter.
"Okay!" Xi Bao said loudly.
He said listlessly, "I thought my aunt was coming back, what a false alarm. Here, Xi Bao, you carry in the meal for you and the grandfathers... Forget it, I'll carry it in, or you might fall and get burned."
He is so smart. He wants to write a letter to his mother and ask her to come home and make delicious food!
"What kind of food is this?" Xibao looked into the basket.
Guan Yu came to deliver food to them and happened to hear this. He was pleasantly surprised and said, "Aunt is coming back? Is that true? When will she be back? My brother, Tianzhi and I will clean up the room together. Let's dry the quilt in the sun while the weather is nice."
"What good food can we have so early in the morning? Steamed buns made from steamed flour, pickled vegetables fried with red peppers, fried goose eggs with garlic chives made just for you, and corn grits and brown rice porridge." Guan Yu presented the menu.
The little guy let go of his hands and landed his feet firmly on the ground, "I'm going to write a letter, mommy will be back soon!"
Just as Xibao was about to ask her mother to come back, Father Lu said, "How could that be possible? Xibao wrote the letter, asking your aunt to come back. Whether she can come back is another matter. It's freezing cold over there, and the roads are hard to travel. You all know that Zhuangzhuang is weak, so how dare you leave so easily? Even if she comes, she has to wait until the weather warms up."
The four old men in the cowshed enjoyed the meal very much and applauded continuously.
"Grandpa, eat!" Xibao pushed the fried goose eggs with garlic sprouts in front of them.
"Just eat it. Grandpa likes pickles." Zhou Fengchu looked at Xibao with loving eyes, and his love was almost flowing out.
After more than half a year of secret recuperation, the wounds on his body had long since healed, leaving only his right arm as a decoration. However, the wound in his heart could never be healed. It was not only because of the treatment he had received, but also because of the children he had adopted, who had stood by and watched coldly at his critical moment of life and death, and two of them had even drawn a line between themselves and him. The pain they brought was no less than that of his body.
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(End of this chapter)