Li Shengnan was tired, put down his chopsticks to catch the angry girl, and forcibly isolated the person:

"Song Ci was sleepy, so I took her to take a nap. ”

She nodded to the few people with different looks, and ran away with her daughter in the wind.

"Mom, I'm not sleepy, I've just eaten. ”

Song Ci's little milk voice protested outside the door, and she was immediately ruthlessly suppressed by her mother:

"No, you're sleepy, you want to sleep. ”

Song Ci's eyes widened in surprise.

This "I don't want you to think, I want me to feel" boss tone, how familiar it sounds!

Li Shengnan returned to the house with a windy foot, and the two stripped off the girl's shoes and coats and stuffed them into the quilt.

"Sleep, Mom tells you stories. ”

Song Ci was excited by the cool quilt, and people were more energetic!

"Okay, are you still telling the story of the Song porcelain in the past?"

Song Ci, who was determined to leave, actively cheered.

Li Shengnan stuffed her two restless little arms into the quilt, pulled up the quilt and covered it, and smiled softly at the girl:

"Yes, it's still the story of Song Porcelain. ”

Then, in a flat voice like chanting, she recited with emotion:

"Once upon a time there was a mountain, and there was a temple on the mountain, and there was a little nun named Song Ci in the temple, who was telling a story, and what was she talking about? Once upon a time there was a mountain, and there was a temple on the mountain, and there was a ...... in the temple."

Song porcelain has a black line on the door of the head.

This bedside story is too deceptive?!

"Mom, why does the little nun live in the temple, shouldn't she live in the nunnery? Just like the nunnery before the commune elementary school. ”

Song Ci refused to be brainwashed and asked questions with a bad heart.

There used to be a nunnery in their township, which was not very famous.

The nunnery was also banned, and several nuns in the nunnery were disbanded and sent home, and the homeless were arranged to marry.

The empty nunnery was renovated and the commune primary school was built.

The commune junior high school was built on the ancestral grave of a former landlord and an old rich man. Of course, the graves were moved.

It is said that the school was built in these places in order to take advantage of the students' culture and yang energy, so that it could be more peaceful.

But these words are only passed on in private, and they cannot be used to promote feudal superstition in the open.

The original little Song Ci also listened to the big children in the village learn to speak, and after listening to a half-understanding, he was afraid of school for a while, and he cried and chirped when he mentioned that he wanted to go to school.

At this time, children in the countryside generally go to school late, and girls go to school even rarer, and it is not yet the time when the nine-year compulsory education is universal.

Xiao Song Ci usually recognizes two words with his parents at home, and listens to some nonsense stories and legends, so he mixes teaching and learning, and he seems to be smarter than other children in the village.

Therefore, it is not uncommon for her to interrupt her mother's story and take the initiative to ask questions.

Facing the little eyes of his daughter's thirst for knowledge, Li Shengnan came easily:

"Have you ever heard of the Guzi Temple? That's the temple where nuns practice. To be precise, it should be called a temple, but the local dialect habits are different, so some are called temples, some are called temples, and some are called nunnery. ”

"It's like your big name is Song Ci, but your mother is used to calling you Bao'er, sometimes your grandmother calls you Xiaoya, sometimes she calls Niuniu, they all call you. Got it?"

"Monks and nuns are divided into men and women by gender, and it has nothing to do with whether the place where the cultivator lives is called a temple or a nunnery. ”

Song Ci was stunned when she heard this, seriously suspecting that her mother was fooling her.

But for a while, I couldn't find a reason to refute it.

She pursed her mouth in frustration and admitted defeat:

"Okay, you're right. ”

Ginger is still old and spicy, and I can't afford to mess with it.

Li Shengnan flicked her with his fingers, the force was neither light nor heavy, he was very accurate, and he was so skilled that Song Ci felt sorry for himself.

"Finish asking, continue listening to the story. ”

"Once upon a time there was a mountain, and there was a temple on the mountain......"

Song Ci pouted, so angry that she closed her eyes and didn't want to pay attention to her.

Is there such a fool of children......

Whew, whew.

Li Shengnan lowered his voice, gently folded the quilt for his daughter, and slapped her forehead uneasily, feeling that the temperature was normal, so he was relieved, brushed aside a few strands of hair on the side of his daughter's face, and kissed her on the face.

Sleep girl, wake up and you'll be fine.

All the illnesses and misfortunes you may encounter, as long as your mother can think of it, call the Song porcelain in the story and bear it for you.