Standing on the top of the mountains, Nangong Wenqing was dressed in white and fluttered in the wind, like a fairy.

"Who?"

The voice containing spiritual power sounded, and before the words fell, the person was already standing behind him.

"Father..."

Nangong Wenqing turned around, his face was cold, and his father seemed to melt into the night.

"You are..."

Nangong Jingyi looked at the handsome man in white in front of him, and did not recognize this person for a while.

When he was in retreat, Nangong Wenqing was only five years old, and naturally there was a big difference from now, but the face that was very similar to his wife Shulan still made him have a little guess in his heart.

"Nangong Wenqing. ”

Nangong Wenqing has always said little, so he is special to Qianqiao.

“......”

Although Nangong Wenqing's answer had confirmed the guess in his heart, Nangong Jingyi didn't know how to speak for the little son who suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Mother, she... Did you ever miss me before you died?"

Looking at the man in black who was a little cramped in front of him, Nangong Wenqing's heart was unusually calm.

He thought that he would be angry and accuse when facing his father, but when this man really stood in front of him, Nangong Wenqing was relieved.

The past seems to have really dissipated with the passage of time, and now he cares most about whether his mother remembered him when she was dying.

Originally, he didn't dare to face it, afraid of hearing a negative answer, afraid that his existence would not be recognized by his mother, but after listening to Qianqiao's words today, he inexplicably had some expectations.

"Shulan, she didn't have time to open her mouth before she died..."

Although more than 600 years have passed, that day is still an unforgettable pain in his heart, and Nangong Jingyi's words are obviously mixed with choking.

"But she's doing this all the time except fighting demons..."

Nangong Jingyi took out a half-embroidered purse from his arms, this is the purse embroidered by Shu Lan for Qing'er, and he has been keeping it close to him.

Back then, Shu Lan fought with the last spiritual power to save Nangong Jingyi and sent him out of the Ten Thousand Demon Pit, but he ended up with no bones, and this purse can be said to be Shu Lan's only relic.

Therefore, when Nangong Jingyi came back, even if he saw his youngest son, he was not willing to return it to its original owner.

And now, it's time to get it back to where it belongs...

Nangong Jingyi carefully stroked every stitch of the purse, as if he wanted to imprint it in his mind, although he was reluctant to give it up, he still handed it over to Nangong Wenqing.

"Qing'er, for the father... I'm sorry for you... But your mother loves you, and this stitch contains all her thoughts about you. ”

“......”

Nangong Wenqing took the purse silently, looked at the slightly clumsy stitches on it, and embroidered half of the clear characters crookedly, and finally changed a little on his cold face.

"Mother, she must be a very beautiful and gentle person..."

Nangong Wenqing whispered softly as if talking to himself, but he was still heard by Nangong Jingyi.

"She... For me, she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and no one else can do it..."

Nangong Jingyi looked at the sky that had been slightly brightened for some time, and thought of the woman in red who tugged at his heartstrings.

Nangong Wenqing looked up at the sky with his father, as if he could see the mother he had missed for hundreds of years.

It wasn't until the rising sun that Nangong Wenqing turned around and left, leaving only a shallow sentence in the wind that made Nangong Jingyi cry.

"I've never blamed you..."

Nangong Jingyi, who has lived for a thousand years, cried like a child for the first time, and vented all his thoughts about his wife and guilt about his son.

The dawn is silent, and the red clouds are like yarns, gracefully brushing in the sky, as if the woman who always likes to wear red clothes has returned...