She Is Not a Witch

In the setting sun, Pullman stood quietly on the hill. Dried blood could still be seen on the armor. A large sword was inserted beside him. There were gaps in the blade and the cloth strips entwined at the hilt. The wear is so bad that many of them have been dyed dark red.

　　 In the wilderness near the setting sun, scattered weapons, broken gun barrels, burning flags, and twisted corpses formed a desolate picture scroll.

The rebels wearing white turbans searched the battlefield one by one. If they found anyone alive, they quickly lifted it up on a stretcher and sent it to the medical point behind, whether he was his comrade-in-arms or a former enemy. A life is precious.

　　 "Brother Pullman, did we win?" a young man lying on a stretcher asked weakly, his upper body was covered with bandages, and one arm was stretched.

　　 "Yes, we won." Pullman shook his other intact hand, sighing in his words.

　　 "Okay...It's good." The boy muttered to himself while looking at the blue-purple sky.

　　 "We are one step closer to our dreams."

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　　Southern Continent, Wilga Business Alliance, Hopelander.

　　 After Lorrain Hill has dealt with the Chamber of Commerce, it has recently ushered in a rare moment of rest.

　　 At this time, she was sitting alone in a small yard behind the mansion. The yard was not big and there was a low pear tree in the middle.

　　 The small yard is very quiet, and you can hear the clear chirping of birds. Occasionally a few fly off the eaves, land on the grass, walk back and forth, peck and peck, and then fly away.

　　 The girl is wearing a white dress and sitting on a wooden chair with a backrest. The position is under the eaves in the courtyard. There are a few standing stone pillars beside it. Some green moss spreads from the grass in the courtyard to the gaps between the steps.

　　 At this moment, she has a small bamboo basket in her arms, and inside is a small half basket of green pea pods. Fingernails pressed the corners of the pods, pinched them off and then pulled apart a green fiber. A few crystal moist beans appeared from the pods, followed by the faint fragrance of plants.

　　 Gently fiddled with his fingers, and a few emerald green peas rolled onto the white palms. The peas were placed in the porcelain bowl on the right, and the torn pods were placed in another bamboo basket on the ground on the left.

　　 Lorraine Hill peeled the pods quietly, with a few golden hair scattered on his chest, occasionally the wind blew over, the birds sang and flew away, and the shadows of the pear branches and leaves swayed gently in the courtyard.

　　 These days, she has always been a maid serving her life. At first, it was a little fresh, but after a long time, she wanted to do something on her own.

While sitting on the wooden chair and peeling the pods, Lorrain Hill slowly recalled some past events. When she was a child, she would go to her grandma's house every winter and summer vacation. Unlike her own house in the depressed city, her grandma lived. In the mountains.

　　 Whenever it rains, I can clearly hear the sound of raindrops hitting the blue tiles. She likes to live with her grandma's house. Because there will be no one urging her to study, and no one will stare at her fiercely every day. Grandma likes her very much, and she doesn't give her any restrictions, she can do what she wants.

　　 Whether it is reading novels under the trees on the hillside, fishing by the river, roasting corn on the drying yard, squatting in the field digging peanuts, or hiding in the house to play a game for a day. Grandma and grandpa don’t even talk about her, as long as she eats on time.

　　 Every summer night, she would lie on a bamboo lounger, looking at the Milky Way stars and the moon in the sky, and her grandma would also tell some magical stories, such as the savages eating children in the mountains and so on.

　　 By the way, she has also seen fireflies, when they were 6 years old, the fireflies were flying in the mountains, flashing and flashing. She once wanted to learn from the ancients who caught a few fireflies and put them in a transparent plastic bag, and then used them to read books at night.

　　 It's a pity that the stories are all deceptive. The light of the fireflies is too weak to be clear at all, unless a few hundred are gathered together.

　　 As I grow older, I don’t know why, there are fewer and fewer fireflies in the mountains, and I have never seen them again since I was 10 years old.

　　 Days go forward, and she likes to cook something for herself.

　　In the beginning, it was just roasted sweet potatoes, roasted peanuts, roasted corn, roasted potatoes and so on.

Later, I learned to use the crucian fish caught in the pond to cook soup. Then she would not be good at cutting vegetables. Grandma was also afraid that she would cut her hands and would not let her touch the knife. Therefore, grandpa handled the fish first, and she was next to her. Watching, there was a tabby cat from her hometown squatting with her.

　　 Don't let it cut and stir fry, let's cook something, boiled corn is really delicious, and then potatoes are also good, occasionally cooking beans, let her think this is also very good.

　　 As the peas slowly peeled off, my thoughts slowly recovered.

The originally empty porcelain bowl slowly accumulated from the first few peas, and gradually increased little by little. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com finally filled the white porcelain bowl. The girl looked at it, and there was a faint feeling. Satisfaction came to my heart.

　　 She held the white porcelain bowl full of peas in both hands, and then went to the small kitchen next to it. This is a small room she asked Chelsea to clean up specially. Only she will make some food here.

　　Pour the emerald green beans into a pottery bowl, then scoop out a scoop of water from the water tank, pour it into it, rub it gently, and then rotate and stir the fingers in the pottery pot to create a small whirlpool. At this time, the fingers stopped, and then they turned in the opposite direction mischievously, setting off bursts of clear waves.

　　 After going back and forth a few times like this, tilt the pottery pot, stop the round beans with one hand like a small dam, and slowly let the water drain out.

With the rubbing of the flint, a few dry withered grasses were ignited, a deep clay pot was put up, pour clear water, and then the peeled beans, covered the pot, and re-added a few firewood, flames Slowly rising from the dead branches, licking the bottom of the pot.

　　 Lorraine Hill moved a chair and sat quietly by the stove. There was a crackling firewood burning sound, and the orange flame reflected in her pupils, making her a little startled.

　　 When people are alone, they can think about many things, the present, the past, and the future.

　　 It’s not a short time since I came to this world. There are no relatives in the past, no friends and familiar faces. Now she is no longer bound by any restrictions, and what kind of path will she embark on in the future.

It is different from the history recorded in later generations and experts inferred. The great sage, Lorrain Hill, who cast down the starlight ten times and saved the world ten times from being on the brink of shattering, was in the third era, in 1684 with the iron spear. She didn't have any ambitions yet, at this time, she was just thinking about living a life quietly and simply, nothing more than an ordinary life.