Smiling, I looked at Chengruo and said, "You don't have to fight a duel today?" ”

Lowering his head indifferently, Chengruo glanced at Xiao Bu in his arms, then raised his head to look at me, and said, "Those miscellaneous pieces are also worth my shot?" ”

Shaking my head, I looked at Cheng Ruo, and suddenly remembered something, and said, "What do you think I should do to run a school?" ”

Frowning, Chengruo looked at me and said, "What did Father do?" ”

Shocked, I looked at Chengruo in surprise, and thought for a while before asking, "Father also runs a school?" ”

Hearing this, Chengruo looked at me with disdain and said, "Otherwise, how do you think we can read and write?" ”

After a moment's pause, I suddenly understood and asked, "What about the Father?" Where is he now? Asking this, in my heart, I despised myself again, for so long, I haven't asked about the Father. But when I thought about the afterlife, I only had a sigh left.

God the Father or something, habitually thought that he was a character only in the scriptures, where did he think that he could be followed in reality. This is probably the tragedy of habitual thinking.

Unexpectedly, Chengruo frowned when he heard my words, and said, "Left." ”

Confused, curious, I looked at Chengruo and asked, "Leave?" Where did it go? ”

Hearing this, Chengruo slowly shook his head and said, "I don't know." ”

After asking for a long time, I realized that the school was suddenly disbanded three hundred years ago, and I only said that I was going to do something important and never came back.

Originally, it was not a big deal for the Father to leave to do errands, but what worried everyone was that the Father did not say when he would come back, and there was no news for three hundred years, and the whole person disappeared cleanly, and everything that was once related to the Father was also gone. It was as clean as if there had never been such a person as God the Father in heaven and earth.

It can be said that for the monks in the early stage of the flood famine, the father was like his own father to them, guiding them to cultivate, teaching them to read and write, and how to survive in this heaven and earth.

It is precisely because of this that today's monks have great respect and admiration for the Father.

But none of this surprised me, and what surprised me was that I suspected that the Father was probably my master, the man who called himself the ink wolf.

I was shocked by the conjecture of worshipping God the Father as a teacher, and the shock was indeed a great surprise, but the surprise was followed by a deep sense of grief and indignation.

Think of the Father, who personally taught every monk in the early stage of the flood famine, hurriedly accepted me as a disciple, and then left without even a shadow.

However, grief and indignation are grief and indignation, and I still asked Chengruo to take me to the place where Father God opened the school in the first place.

To my surprise, I already understood that the temple that they could not see could easily break the prohibition outside the temple and obtain the inheritance under my gaze. The ink wolf, my master, is the Father.

With this realization in my heart, my heart has also become much brighter, and I am no longer at a loss as many years ago.

Considering that God the Father had opened a school before, I thought about it and finally decided to continue the Father's business and open a school.

The clouds and shadows of the idle pool are long, and the stars change a few degrees of autumn. Time flies, and it flies in a blink of an eye.

Watching more and more people learn how to use the herbs around them to heal themselves, watching more and more people learn to find the meaning of life instead of fighting idlely, watching the world become more and more like the afterlife. I suddenly had an understanding: facing a fucked life with a bullshit attitude is a calm and warm happiness.

A group of ants climbed onto the elephant's back and tried to ride on the elephant's head, but was shaken off, and only one ant clung to the wrinkled and rough skin on the elephant's neck, of course, it was probably caught in the folds, and the ants below shouted: strangle him, strangle him, and the other way around. This is typical.

When we are in life, we may encounter difficulties, we may accidentally fall, at this time, we need to do everything we can to solve the problem independently, and strive for perfection while doing it. Most importantly, never get around it. If you bypass it, the opportunity to grow will bypass you. In fact, what is bypassed is not difficulties, but accumulation.

Sometimes, when you think you are getting closer and closer to despair, believe in yourself, no matter how strong you are, maybe you will soon find that the sun is not far away. This is probably the reason why winter is coming, and spring will be far away.

When distress reaches out to you, remember that by confronting the fucked world with bullshit, your world will become wide and gentle.

Memories, like autumn leaves, withered and fell one by one, and finally an aunt who swept the floor, a broom, and all of them were put into a garbage bag. The confused red dust, like the smoke of the past, is like the bleak autumn wind, holding the leaves of memory. Those sweet and sour pasts, day after day, year after year, after invading my dreams again and again, quietly hidden.

In my dreams, I could no longer find Gu Shan's smiling eyes. In my dreams, I can no longer see the handsome and charming face of Gushan. But the friendship that I never want to forget and never want to forget is like a big tree, a little bit of rooting, sprouting, his face, his smile, all turned into the nutrients of the tree, nourishing our love little by little.

"Sister, sister, if the great god is fighting the great god of Shuoyuan again!!!!!" Suddenly, a young man's anxious voice came from outside the school.

The hand that was writing paused slightly, so I ignored it and continued to write.

"Sister, if the great god is beating the great god of Shuoyuan again!" Rushed in, didn't look at me, gasped, didn't have time to breathe, and hurriedly threw himself on the desk where I was writing.

With a slightly helpless sigh, I put down the pen in my hand and looked at the young man. Yes, not a boy, not a boy. This year's Buji is 30,000 years old, and I have lived here for more than 30,000 years.

"Say, did you secretly go to play with Shuoyuan again?" Looking at it, I feel a slight headache.

Hearing this, he immediately shut up.

I looked at him with a look of grievance, and I wanted to refute but didn't dare to refute it, and I was extremely helpless. Think back to the heroic roar in front of the medical furnace more than 30,000 years ago. Although, although the ending after the yelling was a bit tragic, but a rough man, he was spoiled by Chengruo's house to become such a mother, well, no sissy, just a little, in the words of later generations, it is a little white face.