She Is Not a Witch

Chapter 247: Autumn Leaves and Bright Moon

Three days later, the Gufiya grassland.

Nailed wheels ran over the soft grass, the carriage was a little bumpy on the field, and five carriages moved forward on the road, three of which carried goods and two carriages with passengers, heading south.

The gray-white wooden carriage is very ordinary, and the drivers are several humans. If you look closely, you will find that these people are the same bards who performed and invited Roland Hill before at the Fire Conference.

The young coachman drove the horse and drove leisurely. As the sun gradually rose, he felt a little hungry, so he shouted back.

"Sister, I'm hungry~"

"Find something to eat yourself." A female voice said angrily.

"I'm busy now."

"Are you my sister? I shouldn't have been instigated by you in the first place. I'm tired of running so far." The younger brother muttered in dissatisfaction.

"Here." The window at the front of the carriage opened, and a girl with a black ponytail stuffed bread into her brother's mouth, blocking the mouth that was about to complain.

"Worry, sister, can you really make a promise?" The driver's brother asked while chewing the bread.

"No problem, if our newly written "Poem of the Red Bird" can be successfully completed, it will definitely surpass the "Poem of the Kingfisher" more than ten years ago, then you will be rich and able to marry a beautiful The girl." The woman said slightly excitedly, and the work on her hands did not stop.

From the opening of the car window, you can see that there is a small table inside, which is a mess of books, quills, paints, ink bottles, and so on. Sentences and sketches were scribbled on the drawings, as if trying to depict a scene.

The smartly dressed young woman picked up the painting book again, opened one of the pages and continued to draw. Bright paints flew freely on the painting book, quickly sketching a shocking beauty. It is also thanks to this female poet that she can paint easily on a swaying carriage.

"Who would have thought that we were so lucky this time that we actually witnessed the legend with our own eyes."

Thinking back to the peerless scene that day, as the paint continued to fill, the green forest was surrounded, fluorescent flowers bloomed between the shades of the trees, and the moonlight swayed. And singing, although the face is blurred, the beauty of the fairyland still brings people boundless shock.

The hymns of poetry have never ceased, and the stories of the past may be gradually forgotten, but new legends have begun to be written.

In the middle of the ancient Fia Prairie, which used to be rough and heroic, there is now a beautiful and light statue.

A young girl stood in the wind, her long sleeves and dress fluttering in the wind, her hands raised high, as if flames were blooming in her palms, and a piece of lush grass grows on the skirt and feet.

The dress on the statue is elegant, and the flames burn vividly. Only the girl's face is not depicted in detail, and it is left blank, which arouses the imagination of countless people.

Although it was a scorching sun, there was still a crowd of grateful people under the statue. They held alfalfa, bowed their heads, and chanted the name of Elani with a pious expression.

Several birds landed on the shoulders of the statue, looked at the crowd below, tilted their heads, chirped, and then flapped their wings again. Beneath the cloudy sky, the emerald green field is boundless, and the stream of people stretches to the distant horizon.

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After a lapse of half a year, Loren Hill returned to the original small home again. The red maple leaves were scattered, and stepping on the afterglow of the setting sun, she pushed open the wooden door that had been dusty for a long time.

The furnishings in the house are the same as before, except for a little dust.

"Looks like it's time for some cleaning."

As soon as she said it, the girl first tied her hair with a hair tie and put on a cotton dress at home. Then she took out a wooden bucket from the room and went to the stream not far from the courtyard to fetch water.

puff--

The wooden barrel made of maple fell into the water, and then gurgled the clear and cold mountain spring water. Occasionally, a few crimson maple leaves entered the wooden barrel along the flowing water, were carefully selected by the girl, and then fell back into the water.

The clear stream reflects the dense layers of maple leaves in the sky, and the fiery red maple leaves also dye the stream an intoxicating red.

Returning to the maple hut with a half-full barrel, Lorraine Hill took down the thick white cotton rag from the cupboard again. Soak the rag in the water, and then take it out after wetting, and don't wring it too dry when pouring the water.

First, the indoor furniture, due to the good waterproofness of the extraordinary maple, and the fact that she used the magic of the natural sequence to seal it, it basically won't leak. You don't have to worry about getting the things stored inside when you scrub it.

The water was thin and scattered from the cabinet and the table, and as the girl scrubbed, they began to restore their original red maple color.

Roughly scrub it first, then change a rag, carefully scrub the second time, some sunken corners, also carefully press the rag with your fingers, go in and wipe clean.

After scrubbing the furniture, the floor is next.

The girl squatted down and put the rag on one side of the floor, pressed it down a little, and pushed it to the other side.

After so many times, the first room was roughly scrubbed.

Then the second, the third...until all the rooms have been roughly scrubbed.

The black sewage is collected and dumped in the small field behind the courtyard, which is considered as waste.

Then call a bucket of clean water for the second scrubbing. After this scrubbing, the sewage is also much lighter.

After everything was scrubbed, it got dark

Come.

After pouring out the sewage and putting the cleaning tools back in the utility room, Roland Hill stood up, wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his hand, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Speaking of which, I haven't done my housework well for a long time, so I'm a little rusty.

Walking across the wet floor with bare feet, a cool feeling spread from the soles of my feet, and the silver moonlight shone into the room from the windowsill and fell on the floor that was not yet dry.

The girl put her arms on the windowsill and looked up at the bright moon in the sky.

If my mother saw this, she would probably tell me again.

My mother always gets up early in the morning to do housework, because there are very few people active during this time, and no one will walk by while doing it, leaving footprints. And early morning sunlight into the room can also accelerate its drying.

It is naturally difficult to see that scene when I go to school on weekdays, but during the holidays, I always sleep until almost noon before getting up. When he came out of the bedroom sleepily, he could smell the unique smell of evaporation of water vapor, and then he was scolded by his mother, and the sun was drying his butt and so on.

After that, I carefully stepped on the floor without water marks, and walked to wash without leaving footprints.

My mother is an extremely diligent person, and naturally she doesn't see herself as idle. Whenever she is on vacation, she will let herself do housework.

It's a pity that I don't do it well, and I'm often lazy. I only use one hand to use the mop. I'm often told by my mother that I need to use both hands together and bend down to look like I'm working.

At that time, I thought that as long as I wiped it clean, it would be fine, and my work was not for outsiders to see, so why bother. Sometimes I step on the mop with one foot, scrubbing some hard-to-wash stains, and I think it's pretty good.

Along with the past memories in his mind, Roland Hill walked into the kitchen, picked up the boiling kettle, and went to the bathroom next to him, where he took a comfortable hot bath with the cool and clean stream water.

Putting on a clean white dress, the girl moved a bamboo lounge chair into the courtyard.

On an autumn night, under the tall red maple trees, the girl lay on the bamboo lounge chair, feeling the breeze blowing through her body, bringing bursts of coolness.

The leaves made a rustling sound, a bright moon hung high in the night sky, the silver light like water sprinkled all over the mountains and fields, and there were a few lonely bird calls in the distant forest.

Chapter 248/1307
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She Is Not a WitchCh.248/1307 [18.97%]