The little boy is the grandson of the old village chief, and his name is Hanghang.

"Hanghang, there are guests at home, prepare some tea. The old village chief said with a smile.

"There are guests?" Hanghang glanced at Xuanwei and the others behind the village chief with some surprise, and immediately turned around to make tea.

After a while, everyone sat around the table, drinking coarse tea and chatting about the sky.

"Tell us the story of the fox, old man!" said Ming Ye eagerly.

The village chief calmly took a sip of tea and said slowly: "I can't remember exactly how many years ago, maybe seventeen or eighteen years ago, I saw that little fox for the first time. ”

Seventeen or eighteen years ago, not long after the fox was born, it was indeed called a little fox.

"The old friend who lived next door to me was a hunter who made a living by hunting in the mountains, and one day he came back from hunting with a little blood-stained fox in his basket. At first, I thought it was the prey he had harvested this time, and teased that he couldn't sell much if he skinned the fur of such a small fox, who would have thought that the little fox was still alive, but his leg was caught by the beast, and my old friend couldn't bear to save it for a while. ”

Speaking of this, the old village chief couldn't help but smile.

A hunter who hunts for a living actually has compassion for a little fox who fell into a trap and takes it home for treatment.

"Under the care of my old friend, the little fox recovered from his injuries in a few days, so he released him back into the forest. However, when he came down the mountain, the little fox came after him again, and he had no choice but to carry the little fox home. From that day on, my old friend, who had no wife and no children, was always accompanied by a little fox, which amazed everyone in the village!" said the old village chief with nostalgia.

"And what about later?" Tomorrow Night listened with relish, and couldn't help but urge.

"Later, my old friend stopped hunting in the mountains, but planted the land outside the village, and he cultivated it while the little fox played and frolicked beside him. Every time before going home, the little fox would pick up a flower from nearby and plant it in the yard of my old friend. One day, he suddenly came to my house and said that he wanted me to order a small bed for the little fox, and by the way, he also opened a small window on the side of the house for the little fox to enter and exit. At that time, I laughed at him, saying that he really treated this little fox as a family member!" the old village chief grinned, and his wrinkled face was filled with a knowing smile.

Following the old village chief's narration, everyone couldn't help but make up pictures in their minds: an old man planting flowers in the courtyard, and a little fox next to him happily swirling around and smelling the fragrance of flowers......

"Happy times are always short-lived, the little fox grew up slowly, and my old friend was also old, probably the root of the illness that fell when he was young, he couldn't afford to fall seriously ill, and passed away after a month or two. The people in the village pooled some money and buried him in the field, which can be regarded as putting him in the ground. The old village chief's eyes were slightly red, and there was a little loneliness in his voice.

"That little fox has been in the field since then?" said Ming Ye with a sniffle.

"Yes, every day it will lie on the grave with a bouquet of flowers in its mouth, and in the evening it will go back to the house alone. The old village chief sighed lightly.

"Why is it so stupid, doesn't it know that the old man will never come back?" said Ming Ye abruptly.

The old village chief picked up the teacup, stared at the rising mist with cloudy eyes, and said slowly: "Seeing the little fox guarding the grave every day, everyone is strange in their hearts, someone tried to drive it away with a hoe, let him go back to the mountains to live, but no matter what, it still stays in the field." One day, I woke up from freezing in the morning, and when I opened the door and saw goose feathers and heavy snow outside, I immediately thought of the little fox. By the time I got to the field, the ground was covered with knee-high snow, and it was lying in a snowdrift covered in a thick layer of snow, and I could hardly find it unless it had a tail exposed!"

In the midst of the ice and snow, a little fox cowered in the snow, looking so small.

"At that moment, I knew that it would never leave! All we could do was make an umbrella for it on a rainy day and put a watermelon on a summer day. The old village chief muttered.

The little fox who never leaves, the villagers who have been taking care of him for more than ten years, are obviously so warm and warm, why is there a sadness that is difficult to dissipate?

……

After listening to the story, the old village chief got up and prepared the bedding and bed for Xuanwei and the others.

Tomorrow Night pursed his lips, his eyes were teary, and he was obviously still immersed in the story and couldn't extricate himself.

"Hanghang, can you lend me your crayons and drawing books?" Mingye shook his fist and pointed to the pen and paper in Hanghang's hand.

Hanghang, who was born in a simple village, was quite sensible, he smiled and pushed the pen and paper in front of Ming Ye, leaned over and asked, "Here, brother, do you want to draw anything?"

Ming Ye nodded and said in a deep voice: "I want to draw a story!"

By the time the old village chief cleaned up, the two children outside had fully devoted themselves to painting.

"Grandpa, look at the little fox painted by my brother, it's so beautiful!" Hanghang shouted happily at the old village chief.

The village chief glanced at it, and on the drawing paper was a small fox curled up in the jungle, and in front of the fox was the back of a hunter.

To be honest, Tomorrow Night's drawing technique is very ordinary, plus the use of crayons, at first glance it looks more like graffiti.

However, it is this non-realistic style of painting that makes a fairytale color leap onto the page.

Xuan Wei next to him also saw this, if he was to paint, he would definitely choose the ink style, and the picture was bound to be more charming, but the fairy tale color of Ming Ye, which is unique to children, is also something that Xuan Wei cannot imitate.

Only sincere childlike innocence and pure emotion can paint this kind of fairy tale-like painting!

After drawing for more than an hour, most of the crayons were used up, and tomorrow night stopped the sore arm.

"Wow, brother, you're so amazing!" Hanghang looked at the picture book in front of him with bright eyes, and said with admiration.

Tomorrow night flipped through the pages of the picture book and nodded with satisfaction.

"Master, I want Senior Sister Ruoshui to upload these paintings to the Internet, is it okay?" Ming Ye lowered his head and asked Xuan Wei with some trepidation.

Xuanwei rubbed Mingye's head, and said, "This is a good story that warms people's hearts, support you for the teacher!"

Tomorrow Night, who got Xuanwei's permission, was immediately overjoyed, took out his mobile phone and took a photo of the drawing book.

(PS: I have been dizzy and dizzy in the past two days, and my body has not been able to exert my strength, so I hope you will forgive me.) ）