Spring in the Parsons family's old estate is actually very good, there is a broad-leaved chaste tree in the back garden, and the huge shade of the tree always envelops the refreshment table, and the sunlight leaking in is just right. There are also freshly knotted berries sticking out of the fence, juicy bright red and beautiful, though they always have to be bald.

Osveld is the one who destroys the fruit.

Because he didn't have anything else to do but read books and destroy flowers and fruits.

The eight-year-old young master of the Parsons family's old manor was gloomy and difficult, which was what the few servants in the manor often said in private. But in fact, they didn't have much contact with Osvid, and they hardly appeared in front of Osvid every day, except for the routine of preparing three meals and tidying up the house.

No one is playing, no one is allowed to go out, these two things are enough to drive an eight-year-old boy crazy. What's more, he is still in a state of disguised abandonment - the Parsons have long since moved to a new estate, where his father and three older brothers don't even know what they look like.

All they left for Oswald was an old house, a few unsightly servants, and an old butler, Ian, who always had a straight face.

Ian is a cherry-picker, and he can't get used to many things—unstraightened curtain tassels, unsymmetrical plates, slightly crooked table threads. He especially despised Auswid, because the unfortunate boy did not follow the rules at all.

Butler, Ian is actually more of a rigid and difficult teacher, and his life's work is to twist Osvid from hair to heels, into a straight line.

The abnormal environment of his upbringing caused Osvid to enter a rebellious period early, probably due to instinct, as if the more fierce the hoof kick, the easier it is to attract attention. It's a pity that he didn't get the attention of the elders of the family, but he did get Kevin's training.

Kevin was found by Ian. Because the picky old butler found that the eight-year-old Osveld was no longer something he could wring.

"Hello little one, I'm Kevin Fassbinder, and I'll be teaching you swordsmanship and martial arts from today." This is what Kevin said when he first appeared in front of Osveld.

At that time, Kevin looked only seventeen or eighteen years old, in the transition period between adolescence and adulthood, and he wore the standard uniform of the reserve regiment, with a narrow waist and narrow legs, like a saber tucked into the sheath.

Although His Excellency Saber was sitting at the tea table, with his legs crossed and eating small shortbreads, his posture was relaxed and not very solemn. But it is undeniable that Osveld's first impression of him was very good.

Young boys will always have an indescribable yearning and admiration for those big boys who look sharp and calm.

Kevin slapped the shortbread crumbs off his hands and bent his eyes, "I heard that you hate it when people pat you on the top of your head, and I don't like it either." He said as he stood up and took two steps forward, then bent down, held out a hand, and smiled, "I hope I won't make you feel annoying." ”

His fingers are long, clean, and as beautiful as he looks.

Eight-year-old Osvid had not yet fully recovered from his nap sleepiness, and stared at the hand for a few moments before reaching out to hold it.

He stiffened a young master's face and said, "I don't hate you." "I like it.

In the shade of the chastity tree, the spring-spotted bird chirped, and Osvid woke up.

He sat on the wide bed and pinched his eyebrows, and when he heard the rumbling outside, he suddenly lost the interest in continuing to sleep, so he simply pulled a piece of clothing and put it on, and strode out of the door.

It was not yet dawn and it was pouring rain outside.

He waved his hand at the night guard in the hallway, signaling that he didn't need to follow, and then went around the corner and walked to the door of the study.

The door of the study was wide open, and the people inside were lying on their stomachs, lying unconscious on the table.

Osvid: "......"

He simply leaned against the door with his arms folded, and waited for a long time to see when His Excellency Fassbinder would find out about his arrival.

Probably because the scene in the dream just now was too mild and peaceful, Osvid rarely lost the anger in his heart, and seemed to be extremely patient.

It's a pity that Kevin slept extra heavily for some reason, and didn't have the slightest intention of waking up.

Osveld listened to the sound of the torrential rain outside the hallway, looked at him for a long time, and finally stood up straight and walked into the study.

Kevin rested his face on his left arm, his right hand resting on the open codex, a pile of parchment pressed under the codex, and a pen resting on the edge, the tip of which rubbed several ink spots on the paper, very messy.

Osvid squinted at Kevin for a moment, then raised his hand to remove his right paw from the Codex, and lined it up again, revealing the paper underneath.

Sure enough, I didn't copy a word!

But the paper is not a blank slate, except for the absence of words, there is everything.

His Excellency Kevin Fassbender sat in his solemn study, drawing a bunch of demons and monsters on fine parchment with the Emperor's precious pen.

Osvid had the privilege of seeing Kevin's painting skills a few times, and with his extraordinary imagination and understanding of Kevin, he guessed that there was a mountain hare fatter than a pig, a giant armored sea turtle uglier than Wang Ba, a lion with a stupid bear face, a plucked vulture, and a black eagle like a chicken cub......

There is also a huge cross next to it, which vividly expresses a word - birds and beasts are inferior.

Osvid: "......"

Nine times out of ten, this complaint was also directed at him, after all, it is really not something that can be done by people to copy the code a hundred times.

He glanced at Kevin, took out the parchment angrily, and was about to take a pen to mark "Read, add punishment", when he found that Kevin had also drawn something on the parchment below.

It was supposed to be a human face, with two eyes drawn one large and one small, very asymmetrical, with a stumbling nose in the middle. There was also a mess of vertical lines next to it, and I don't know if this was a sign of modification or an attempt to cast a shadow on the nose.

Beneath that shadow, a mouth of its ugliness could be faintly seen.

What is this?

Osveld stared at the paper for a long time, and then discerned the tree and the table from behind the face, still in a style that was impossible to look at.

Shade? Table? Person?

These things came together, and a scene flashed through Osvid's mind. He pondered twice, and his face instantly darkened.

"Tuk! Sincere! Sincere! Oswid flexed a knuckle and slammed on the table.

"Huh?" Kevin snorted, frowned and opened his eyes, looking at him sleepily and blankly.

"What are you drawing?" Osvid flicked the piece of paper.

"Hmm......" Kevin replied in a vague replies, resting on his arm and closing his eyes.

The backyard of the Parsons family.

Osvid leaned in and heard him say that.

It is not enough to dare to love this ancestor just by remembering the time when he could raise his hand to beat him, but also to draw it. Since the painting is the backyard of Parsons Manor, it is self-evident who this person is and who he is.

Osvid: "......"

The scene from the dream came back to Osvid's mind, and he remembered what he had said when he first saw this ancestor, and he almost wanted to go back and pull out his tongue.

Love a fart! If you don't hate it, you have a ghost.

"Get up!" Osvid slammed the table again.

Kevin frowned and waved his hand, and said vaguely, "I'll talk about it later, I'm too sleepy." ”

Osvid frowned: "You have the final say, or do I have the final say?" ”

Kevin didn't even bother to wave his hand this time, so he didn't open his mouth at all.

"Hey-" Osveld glared at him for a moment, and tried to scream again, only to find that Kevin's breathing had grown again, and he seemed to be asleep again, but his frowning brow had not yet dispersed, and he was full of a tiredness that did not match his usual life.

Osvid snapped his fingers, feeling that something was not quite right.