As soon as he entered the house, Lige already smelled the fragrant food, but Lige didn't have a little appetite, because it must have been made by his mother, but his mother's body. Thinking of this, Lige rushed to his mother's room.

The room was simple and simple, a middle-aged woman was half-lying on the bed, wearing an extremely simple hairpin on her head, wearing a gray and white coarse linen robe, her face was haggard, and her little gorgeous hair was even more eye-catching, so that the originally upright facial features were covered with a hint of frost white.

"Mother, I'm coming back late, I'm hungry, I'll cook for you, and my mother and I caught a partridge, your illness will get better soon, and then we can eat together again, and I can help you find medicinal herbs." Lige lifted the birdcage in his hand and displayed it in front of Zawa Sanchun.

"I know you're amazing, where have you been this day, our little Lige must be hungry, have you eaten enough, you don't have to cook, your mother has already cooked the meal, you wait for your mother to give you heat. Saying that, Wa Sanchun wanted to get up.

"No need mother, just rest well, just let me do these things, your son is very powerful, this kind of thing is a side dish, but you have to drink this partridge soup stewed by my mother." Lige tried not to let his tears flow, and said with a smile.

"I know that you are a great little guy, okay, my mother is fine, let's go eat, look at the hunger like this all day, look at my mother and feel distressed." Wa Sanchun stroked Lige's cheek very kindly, but he was worried.

"Well, mother, you have a good rest, I'm tired of going out to eat first, my mother's cooking is the best, I must finish it." Lige looked like a little gluttonous cat, which made Wa Sanchun smile.

Jumping out of Wa Sanchun's room, but behind the song and laughter was his pain and sadness, and the reason for all this was precisely because he saw that Wa Sanchun's already thin body had become even thinner, and his pale cheeks had no trace of blood at all, like an old man who was about to die, and the lamp had run out of oil.

Looking at a table of meals that had become cold, Lige finally couldn't stop the tears, tick-tock, a tear the size of a bean fell on the table, in order not to worry his mother, he bit his lip to prevent himself from crying, and picked up the barley that had hardened.

One spoonful, two spoonfuls, the hand holding the spoon shoved the barley in the bowl into his mouth faster and faster. The small mouth was stuffed to the full, but not a drop of barley was wasted.

This is the meal that my mother made for herself by enduring physical discomfort, and she must not waste a single bit, she must eat it all.

In such a humble room, a teenager sobbed and sad, but he was accompanied by the endless love of his mother, bitter but sweet.

This meal has been eaten for nearly half an hour since the song, and there is no leftover to eat. I put all the plates and plates away, and the movements were so skillful, as if I had done it a thousand times.

And the fact is that since the age of four, when Lige's height was not enough to reach the stove, the task of cooking has become his daily work. Even if you have to step on a bench to reach the top of the stove.

And this is not what anyone asked him to do, but because Lige didn't want his mother who was already sick to do this, whether it was the fatigue of cooking or the smoke of the meal, even if it was a little bit of Lige, he didn't want his mother to aggravate his condition.

Skillfully put the dishes and chopsticks into his own pool, the water washed, and the plates on his hands were flowing quickly in his hands as if by magic, one, two, and all the dishes and chopsticks had been washed in a while. Put your rolled up sleeves down.

I glanced up at the bright moon that was already in the sky.

Hour and moment.

There are still five hours before dawn, and the partridge soup is just enough for the mother to drink in the morning.

Come to the stove and skillfully step on the bench. Remove the lid of the large iron pot. Pour the water into it, close the lid and wait for the water in the pot to boil.

And while waiting, Lige began to take a closer look at this mutated partridge for the first time, just like the one introduced in the medical book, its shape is like a chicken but not a chicken, its body is nearly five inches long, and its body is emerald green, smart, and timid. But there is one difference, that is, there is a faint mark on the forehead of this partridge, which is not visible at all if you don't look closely.

"Partridge, Partridge, I can only sacrifice you for my mother, I know that you have opened your mind, I hope you don't blame me, I also want my mother to survive. Sorry. "If others knew that Lige, a small disaster, would apologize to a partridge, they would definitely die of laughter, but Lige still did it, but it was according to his heart. After all, a life that should have been innocent was going to be buried in his hands.

The partridge in the cage was unusually calm, but that indifference made Lige even more uncomfortable, shook his head fiercely, and the kitchen knife in his hand tightened.

After opening the fence of the birdcage, he reached in with his left hand and snatched the partridge out, without a struggle to the death, without a mournful hissing, or with the power that erupted in the orchard.

Be quiet!

Exceptionally quiet!

"What the hell is going on, how can a partridge be so calm, it's impossible, and no creature would be so encouraging death. What's wrong, forget it is important to make soup for my mother, it is better to be quiet, at least a little less painful. Although Lige is strange about this strange situation, he has not thought deeply about the reason.

Hands up!

A streak of blood red soaked a square field next to the stove.

Partridge, die.

But a strange scene appeared, a strange flame flew out from the top of the dead partridge's head, and that place was the trace found by Lige before.

Strange flames pulsed strangely above the partridge, as if each beat could shake the air around it.

"What the hell is this. "Lige hurriedly jumped away, and people are always wary of the unknown, even if it's an eight-year-old child.

"Whoosh. ”

"Whoosh. ”

The strange flame seemed to have discovered Lige, and the unknown jubilant cheered for a moment, and shot straight down at Lige.

Although Lige had reacted quickly and made a move, but the strange flame appeared too suddenly, and the speed was too fast, and the strange flame shot straight into Lige's eyebrows, and he didn't enter directly.

"What the hell, am I going to die, how can that damn flame be in the partridge's head, what the hell is this. "Lige's head kept flashing with questions one after another.

But after half a ring, nothing happened, there was no headache and brain fever, and there were no adverse symptoms, as if the strange flame had never appeared.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, great, hahaha. Lige touched his body twice, but there was nothing at all. He jumped up from the ground and stretched out his left hand to be fine, his right hand was fine, and there was nothing wrong with him.

Suddenly leaving the song and looking at the partridge that had been slaughtered by himself, that was the only thing that had to be a mother, and there must not be any mistakes. On the ground, a partridge with its head separated lay there without any abnormality.

"It's good that you're okay, or my efforts would have been in vain. Lige picked up the partridge on the ground, drained the remaining blood, took a large basin and put the boiling water into it, and plucked all the green feathers on the partridge's body.

"It should be okay now, wait for three hours to stew, and tomorrow morning my mother will drink this, ha, it's really happy." From time to time, firewood was added to the stove, and the seemingly slender arm pulled the bellows hard.

Although he was soaked in sweat, he was still happy.

And when Lige was excitedly stewing soup, a pair of loving and distressed eyes appeared outside the kitchen at some point. Looking at this young child, doing something that should not be what a child of his age should be.

And the owner of this pair of eyes is the mother of the song, Wa Sanchun.

Not more precisely, it is Wa Sanchun who is not sick, yes, Wa Sanchun, who should have been terminally ill, is standing there in good health, if people who are familiar with her condition see it, they will be shocked to see it, the whole water surname clan knows that Wa Sanchun is a person who is sick and fast, but now...... A glamorous beauty, a peerless beauty!

"Lige, my mother only hopes that you can be an ordinary person, the more ordinary the better, don't break into this troubled world, it's too ruthless. Don't blame your mother. Wa Sanchun covered his mouth with his hands, and tears were shining in his eyes, which was distress, self-blame, pain, and struggle. But these emotions turned into firmness. Forcing her to look back, she really couldn't bear to look at her child, the child who was willing to do something for her.

And now Lige is lying on the stove, his hands on the pillow of his head and falling asleep, he is too tired, this day's experience, too many ups and downs, so that his young heart has been full of holes, coupled with the body that has just improved a little, unconsciously this strong child is finally asleep.

And in the dream of leaving the song, it is a different situation.

Dizzy, smoky, shrouded in a mysterious canyon.

"Hey, I, why am I here, I'm not making soup for my mother, it's weird. Lige in the dream scratched his head in confusion and looked at everything around him strangely.

"Come in, come in. A voice that seemed to be there echoed in Lige's heart, as if some force was pulling him into this place, into this canyon.

"If you don't go in and have a look, it's nothing anyway. The already bold departure song finally couldn't stand the voice in his heart and walked into the canyon.

And the scene of entering the canyon made Lige stunned on the spot, what a huge map.

Bizarre maps.