Hearing Muge calling Dad, Yi Yue had just sat down in Zhan Changran's arms, and immediately stepped forward to look for it, and at a glance saw a strange adult sitting on the side, stretched out his finger, his eyes rolled slightly, and he looked at the old father inquiringly, and shouted in his mouth: "Dad? ”

Also as a father, Muqiaoshan is not responsible for Zhan Changran, and he can leave his son for ten days and half a month without coming back to take a look, Yiyue also thought that Muge was an orphan, so he was excluded by other children in the village.

Later I learned that it was not.

Other children said that the Muge family worshipped demons.

When they were asked, they could not come up with a reason, except vaguely that strange noises were heard from their homes, and that they had been seen collecting the blood of wild animals.

The children said: Who will collect such a filthy thing as blood except to worship the devil?

Who's going to make a strange noise in a nobody's house except a demon?

This first meeting made Yi Yue very curious, Muge is no different from ordinary children, so the one who worships the devil should be Muqiao Mountain, which has never been seen before?

She doesn't believe in the fallacies about demons, but curiosity always makes people can't help but pay attention to the gossip center.

But the other party's dress is not eye-catching at all, wearing an ordinary earthy yellow long-sleeved shirt, animal leather shoes and linen pants, although the body is embarrassed, but the man's clean face, like midnight, brown eyes flashed like water.

There is also the fluffy and well-trimmed short hair, there is no time to take care of the jaw that has just grown stubble, the body is slender, and the temperament that is as warm as jade contains a sharp blood, except that the blood, it does not look like a hunter, but like a scholar.

The kind of scholar who was in distress could only rely on hunting game to make a living, and suddenly suffered an accident, the ordinary and common cloth clothes in the village were tattered and full of cracks, broken threads and stubble were tangled, and the image was depressed, but when talking to others, he was calm, his back was straight, and his spirit was good to the naked eye.

It's weird, but I can't tell what's wrong.

In such a comparison, her father is also eccentric, just sitting here, he is calm like a flagpole, just standing there has a heavy power, and he can hold down tens of millions of floating dust.

Both sides get along as hunters, but none of them have the rough fatigue of people who make a living from hunting, nor do they have the vicissitudes of life that can be removed by careful thinking, and at the same time they turn a blind eye to it.

Both of them are good-looking, looking up at this, and can't help but turn their heads to look at that.

Itsuki's father hadn't shaved for a long time, and he had dense growth on his cheeks, and he looked much older, and he was mature and middle-aged.

The atmosphere between the two big men was harmonious, and I don't know how many words were said before.

Zhan Changran stopped the little arm that stretched out, smoothed his little daughter's unkempt hair when he woke up, and asked him to get some food when Ah Man sat next to him, so as not to make trouble when his little stomach was hungry.

After watching it for a while, he finally lost interest in the legendary demon worshipper, and his eyes were attracted by Aman's movements, and Izuki leaned on his father to look at the pot and fire in front of him.

The pot set up by a few thick wooden sticks in front of him was a little familiar, not the style of the cooking utensils of the advance team, but the black iron pot with no features and patterns common to the villagers, and there was a layer of crusted pot ash at the bottom of the pot.

The broth was tumbling inside, and Ah Man was scooping it with a long iron spoon.

There are no hot beads, no silver-gray cylindrical energy stoves, no high-tech products.

Even the clothes on her body had been replaced with those small linen clothes that belonged to the world, and the crib she slept in was long gone, and the place that could be called a bed was nothing more than a grass nest with a few clothes.

The fact that you can't reveal your identity as an "alien" is really engraved in their hearts.