Since it is not a formal acceptance of the request, it is inconvenient to swagger forward.

After thinking about it for five seconds, Murong Cao planned to use the excuse of sketching, Yang Muqing is the best disguise, draw a few strokes casually, and fool the layman, as for himself, who doesn't have one or two teammates like pigs?

The road is a little far away, and it is too sad to drive to the car, and it is really a bit of a stretch to drive to sketch, which is not in line with the poverty and happiness of art lovers at all, so the two chose to take a green train that climbs slower than a turtle.

After more than 20 hours of zigzags, staggering, and squeaking, at three or four o'clock in the morning, they finally got off at a small broken stop without any signs, and that's not all, there was at least two and a half hours of minibus waiting for them.

Yang Muqing's spirit is not bad, and Murong Cao, who has not exercised much, has bones all over his body as if he is about to fall apart.

Yang Muqing dragged her in a semi-wandering state around the extremely streamlined station, and it took a total of three minutes, and then found a relatively suitable "Feng Shui Treasure Land" for rest, took out newspapers and blankets from her bag, and laid them on the ground in turn.

Murong Cao patted him on the shoulder, praised him, and then lay down on it unceremoniously.

It's November, and the night dew is deep and cool.

Yang Muqing took out a clean coat from the suitcase and gently covered it for Murong Cao, she was extremely tired today, and she fell asleep on the ground, with a long snort, her eyebrows flashed slightly, and there were faint dark circles under her eyes.

There were still three or four hours before dawn, and Yang Muqing, who was in charge of the night vigil, was not idle, took out the "Nine Decisions on the Ghost Road" that he had read half of in the car, and continued to study with the dim light of the passage.

If this scene can be seen by Bodhizi, he must feel "Lao Huai" happy.

The rooster crows in the distance, and the sky is already bright.

Murong Cao took the wet wipes handed over by Yang Muqing and wiped her face, fortunately, she usually paints and wears light makeup, and she is still lovely without makeup.

"Let's go!"

"Hmm."

On this day, a pair of young men and women came to Xiangma Town to sketch, Xiangma Town is picturesque, and the two of them are also like characters in the painting, this feeling, this person, this scene, very suitable.

On the first day of entering the town, they first walked around the main road, then settled breakfast and lunch at a street stall, and in the afternoon, at Murong Cao's suggestion, they chose a shallow beach with excellent scenery to sketch.

Yang Muqing put up the drawing board and drew seriously, as if he was really sketching.

Murong Cao took out his camera and took landscape photos in the neighborhood very leisurely.

This afternoon, which was supposed to be very leisurely, came two groups of uninvited guests.

The first group of people were three young gangsters.

They probably saw the two of them on the street, and thought that the male was a weak scholar, and the woman was also petite and weak, and they were two pieces of fat that could be eaten, so they followed, and after observing patiently for a while, they found that they really had no other support, so they each jumped out with a slender iron rod.

"Come to us to talk about some rules, the name of Xiangma Town is not called for nothing!"

"Either leave the wallet, then leave this young lady who is very watery!"

"Put down your phone, don't call the police, dare to dial and beat you into pigs' heads!"

The fierce and vicious appearance was enough, but the thick accent ruined their momentum.

Murong Cao put away the camera for a long time, leaned in front of Yang Muqing, who was still carefully drawing, and patted his chest and said quietly.

"People are so scared, they actually call me a little sister......"

Yang Muqing didn't raise his eyelids, threw the pencil to Murong Cao, turned around and walked towards the three of them, the momentum was overwhelming, and soon the voice of crying father and calling his mother came, and the three gangsters were beaten into pig's heads as they wished.

"Wait! We'll call someone! ”

The three of them covered their wounds and cursed, and did not forget to put down cruel words before leaving.

Yang Muqing rubbed his wrists, making a "click" joint sound, and the three of them immediately ran away.

"It's a beautiful fight, it's much better than the heroes in the TV series to save the beauty, hey, the painting is also good."

Murong Cao smiled and put the pencil back in Yang Muqing's hand and continued her great cause of shooting.

On the silent panel, a woman merges with the beautiful landscape, as if it should be a part of the landscape.

The second group was a group of children selling flowers.

There were about seven or eight children, boys and girls, each carrying a small flower basket, and the basket was not filled with flowers, but garlands made one by one, and each person used different flowers, such as daisies, pomegranates, and sunflowers, and many unknown wildflowers, which were colorful and wild.

They didn't sell it expensive, Murong Cao happily picked up the garlands he liked, and actually picked several at once, one was put on his head, one was put on the drawing board, and the other was forcibly put on Yang Muqing's head, and he also held one in his hand, thinking about where to put it.

The child who sold the garland waved the banknote and scattered, and the child who did not sell the garland hesitated and walked forward, considering that the two people could not buy more, and did not look back to sell it.

Murong Cao set his eyes on a little girl who had not come forward to sell his wreath, nor had she walked away with the other children.

The little girl is about eight or nine years old, she is a little beauty embryo, even if she was born in the countryside, she is born with snowy skin and sharp chins, with two black and shiny thick braids, looking delicate and delicate, looking at their eyes, some mature beyond her age.

Murong Cao walked towards her with a smile and put the remaining wreath on her head.

"No matter how beautiful the flowers are, if they are made into garlands, they will die."

The girl suddenly heard this, and after a slight startle, her two big eyes were instantly filled with tears.

This is the code left in the letter she wrote.

"You're Apple, aren't you?"

The girl nodded tearfully, as if trying to laugh, but once the emotions that had been suppressed for a long time burst, how could a child take it back.

"My name is Murong Cao, his name is Yang Muqing, and I am from the Soul Asking Institute."

"We received your letter the other day."

"We're here to help you."