She Is Not a Witch

"It's not a witch novel ( to find the latest chapter!

Three days later, the ancient fia grassland.

Wheels with nails ran across the soft grass. The carriage was bumpy in the field. Five carriages moved on the road. Three carriages carried goods and two carriages carried passengers, heading south.

The gray wooden carriage is very ordinary, and the driver is a few humans. If you look closely, you will find that this group of people are the bards who performed and invited Lorrain Hill in the flame meeting before.

The young coachman drove his horse leisurely. As the sun gradually rose, he felt a little hungry on his stomach, so he shouted backwards.

"Sister, I'm hungry~"

"Find something to eat by yourself." A female voice said grimly.

"I'm busy now."

"Are you my sister? I shouldn't have been persuaded by you at the beginning. I couldn't be tired after running so far." The younger brother murmured a little dissatisfied.

"Here." The window at the front of the carriage opened, and a girl with a black ponytail stuffed bread into her brother's mouth and blocked the mouth that was about to complain.

"Worthy, sister, can you really make a promise, every time~" the coachman asked, chewing on the bread.

"No problem, if our newly compiled "The Poem of the Red Bird" can be successfully completed, it will definitely be more than the "Poem of the Kingfisher" more than ten years ago. Then you will have money and you will be able to marry a beautiful man. The girl." The woman said a little excitedly, and her effort didn't stop.

From opening the car window, you can see that there is a small table with messy books, feather pens, paint, ink bottles, etc. on it. There are scribbled sentences and sketches on the drawings, it seems that I want to depict some scene.

The smartly dressed young woman picked up the painting book again, turned one of the pages and continued to paint. Bright paints were flying freely on the painting book, quickly sketching out a stunning scenery. Thanks to the great skill of this poetess, she can easily paint on a swaying carriage.

"Who would have thought that we were so lucky this time that we actually witnessed the legend with our own eyes."

Thinking back to the peerless scene that day, as the paint continues to fill up, the green forest surrounds, fluorescent flowers bloom in the shade of the trees, and the moonlight is swaying in the center of the picture. And singing, although the face is blurred, the beauty of the fairyland still gives people a boundless shock.

The poems are never cut off. The stories of the past may be gradually forgotten, but new legends are also beginning to be written.

In the center of the ancient and rugged grassland of Gufia, now there is an exquisite and light statue.

A young girl is standing in the wind, her long sleeves and skirt are flying in the wind, her hands are raised high, there seems to be flames in her palms, and the skirt and feet are surrounded by lush grass.

The dresses on the statue are elegant, and the flames are burning vividly. Only the girl's face is not depicted in detail, and the white space is just right, which arouses the imagination of countless people.

Although it was a scorching sun, the statue was still surrounded by people who came to be grateful. They held alfalfa, bowed their heads to thank them, chanted the name of Alani, and looked pious.

A few birds landed on the shoulders of the statue, looking at the crowd below, tilted their heads, tweeted, and then fluttered their wings and took off. Under the cloud-filled sky, the emerald green wilderness is boundless, and the crowd of people in the stream stretches to the distant horizon.

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After half a year, Lorrain Hill returned to her original small home again, the red maple leaves drifting away, and in the afterglow of the setting sun, she pushed open the wooden door that had been sealed for a long time.

The furnishings in the house are the same as before, except for a little dust.

"It looks like it needs to be cleaned up."

The girl first tied her hair with a headband and put on a cotton dress at home. Then she took out the wooden bucket from the room and went to the stream not far from the courtyard to fetch water.

puff--

The wooden barrel made of maple fell into the water, and then gurgled up the clear and cold mountain spring water. Occasionally a few crimson maple leaves enter the wooden barrel along the flowing water, carefully selected by the girl, and then fall into the water again.

The clear stream reflected the dense layers of maple leaves in the sky, and the fiery red maple leaves dyed the stream an intoxicating red.

Carrying the half-full wooden barrel back to the maple hut, Lorrain Hill dropped a thick white cotton rag from the cabinet again. Dip the rag into the water and take it out after wetting it. The water does not need to be wrung out too dry.

First of all, the indoor furniture, due to the excellent water resistance of the extraordinary maple wood, and she used the magic of natural sequence to seal, basically it will not leak. You don't have to worry about getting things stored inside when you scrub.

The water was fine and scattered from the cabinet and the table. As the girl scrubbed, they began to restore their original red maple color.

First scrub it roughly, then change to a rag, carefully scrub the second time, some sunken corners, and carefully hold the rag with your fingers, stick it in, and wipe it clean.

After scrubbing the furniture, the floor is next.

The girl squatted down and put the rag on one side of the floor, pressed it slightly, and then pushed it to the other side. The water trail waded across the gray floor, revealing the original reddish brown.

After doing so many times, the first room was roughly scrubbed.

Then came the second room, the third room... until all the rooms were roughly scrubbed.

The black sewage was collected and poured into a small field behind the courtyard, which was regarded as waste.

Then I called a bucket of clean water to scrub for the second time. After this time, the sewage was much lighter.

After everything was scrubbed, it got dark.

Draining the sewage and putting the cleaning tools back in the utility room, Lorrain Hill stood up, wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, and took a breath.

Speaking of it, I haven't done housework for a long time, so I'm a bit rusty.

Walking bare-footed across the wet floor, a cool feeling spread from the soles of the feet, and silver moonlight spread from the window sills into the room, falling on the floor that was not yet dry.

The girl put her arms on the windowsill and looked up at the bright moon in the sky.

If I let my mother see this picture, she would probably call me again.

Mother always does housework in the early morning when she gets up early, because there are very few people doing activities during this time, and no one will walk by while doing it, leaving footprints. The early morning sunlight can also accelerate its drying indoors.

It's hard to see that scene when I go to school on weekdays, but during holidays, I always sleep until noon before getting up. When I came out of the bedroom with sleepy eyes, I could smell the peculiar smell of vapor evaporation, and then I was scolded by my mother, and my buttocks were exposed to the sun.

After that, step on the floor with no traces of water cautiously, and walk to wash away without leaving any footprints.

Mother is an extremely diligent person, and naturally she can't come to the idle self, and will let herself do housework whenever she is on vacation.

It’s a pity that I’m not doing well~www.readwn.com~ and I’m often lazy. I only use one hand with a mop. My mother often tells me that I need to use both hands together and bend down to look like working.

At that time, I thought that as long as it was cleaned, the work was not for outsiders, so why bother. Sometimes one foot will step on the mop to scrub some hard-to-wash stains, which is pretty good.

With the recollection of the past in his mind, Lorrain Hill walked into the kitchen, lifted the boiling hot water bottle, and went to the bathroom next to him, where he took a comfortable hot bath with cool and clean stream water.

Putting on a clean white dress, the girl moved a bamboo deck chair into the courtyard.

In the autumn night, under the tall red maple tree, the girl lay on the bamboo lounger, feeling the slight night breeze blowing over her body, bringing bursts of coolness.

The leaves made a light rustling noise, a bright moon hovered in the night sky, silver light like water spreading over the mountains and plains, and a few lonely bird songs came from the distant forest.

In order to facilitate the next reading, you can click on the "Favorites" below to record the reading record of this time (Chapter 247 Autumn Leaves and Bright Moon), and you can see it next time you open the bookshelf!

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