I, Qing Huan

"Master?"

"Master!"

Nanyang suddenly recovered and looked at Yuntang who was dissatisfied under the hall.

"Master, why are you in a daze? Can you be distracted while teaching?" Yun Tang couldn't laugh or cry. She saw a lot of masters teaching on top, and disciples distracted below, but she had never seen the master himself distracted during the course. .

Bianzi, who was sitting next to Yuntang, yawned.

"Where did I just talk?" Nan Yang lowered her head and flipped through the book, but the book was upset by the wind blowing from the window, and she couldn't find the place where she just stopped.

"Tiangang Ten Square Formation, page 105, judgments of life in the ten major directions." Yun Tang reminded.

Bianzi took advantage of another yawn and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

"Oh... I'll look for it."

Nan Yang is not always so distracted, but she has been pretending to be a heavy thing in her heart for the past two days, and she has to think about eating and sleeping, sometimes thinking about people's thoughts is far away.

Yun Tang complained: "Fortunately, Junior Sister Qing Huan was sent to study at Hongfei Pavilion. If she followed you to study, it is estimated that she will not be able to learn anything for another 20 years."

Bianzi murmured while his eyes were stunned: "Don't worry, Qing Huan won't listen to something as boring as "Tiangang Ten Square Formation" in Hongfei Pavilion. I'm afraid it's dozing off like me."

"Just be lazy, sooner or later you will get into a dangerous situation and regret not learning the formation!" Yun Tang pushed aside and took advantage.

Nanyang read the book, but couldn't enter a word. She simply closed the book and stood up: "Forget it, come here today. You will practice swords well after class. I still have something to do."

She wants to go and see the sword pond.

Tomorrow is Qing Huan's sixteen-year-old birthday, and she hasn't figured out what birthday gift to give her. It would be great if the sword that had been cast for six years could be completed.

As soon as she walked out of the pavilion, the disciples of Beifang who were near and far knelt down when they saw it, and greeted her, "Well, see you."

She is also accustomed to other people's bowing to her. As a lord, it is common to be worshipped wherever she goes.

When he came to the sword pool, opened the stone door, the scorching heat wave rushed toward his face. Rong Huai was standing by the pool in a thin shirt, holding a book in one hand and touching his chin in the other, as if thinking about something. Hearing the sound behind him, he came back to his senses and greeted Nanyang with a smile: "You are here."

"My sword..."

"Okay, okay, I know, your sword and your sword are your sword every time you speak. For this sword, what do you think you have made yourself into?" Rong Huai said. He glanced at the scar on Nanyang's left wrist when he was casting the sword, "But, don't hold on to too much hope, I think it will take more than a year to get better."

"One more year?"

Nanyang was worried, and she didn't have to give it away.

"What are you impatient? Qing Huan is only fifteen years old. She is so young and has so little skill that she won't be able to hold it even if the sword is cast." Rong Huai looked at Nan Yang's expression and felt a little funny, this clear and cold. The lord of the Lord has always been estranged and indifferent to others, but he is very impressed with her little apprentice. Every year, on the birthday day of Qinghuan, Nanyang will frown for several days, searching for something to give.

"Why don't you give her a copy of your calligraphy, your calligraphy is famous all over the world, she must be a heirloom."

"... She is still young, this is not very practical."

"Then...or you let Hongfeige take her off for a day off and take her to have a good day, she will definitely be very happy."

"So... I think too." Nan Yang nodded and accepted Rong Huai's suggestion.

Anyway, tomorrow is her birthday, and it should be possible to give her a holiday from this afternoon.

Nan Yang bid farewell to Rong Huai and went directly to Hongfei Pavilion.

When she got there, Hongfei Pavilion was in class. Seeing her walking into the class, Ping Zilai put down everything in her hand and hurriedly knelt down to her after half talking. All the disciples in the class also knelt down at the desk. For a time, there was a piece of white clothes on the ground, but in one corner, there was a young girl lying on the table sleeping soundly.

"The Lord is here, do you have any instructions?" Ping Zilai asked respectfully, leaning on the ground.

Nan Yang's gaze was fixed on the sleeping girl in the corner, and she waved her hand to signal that everyone who was kneeling got up. Then holding his hands, step by step towards that inconspicuous corner.

The sunlight outside the window shone on half of the girl's feminine face, and every eyebrow was clearly lined with warm light. She put her face on a book, opened her mouth a little bit, drooling over the book.

The corners of Nan Yang's mouth moved, as if he was smiling, but again as if not smiling. She stretched out her hand, squeezed the girl's soft face, and whispered to her: "Qing Huan."

Qing Huan opened her eyes in a daze and saw Nan Yang's figure vaguely. She was so frightened that she quickly got up from the table, lifted her robe and knelt down: "Master..."

Nanyang supported her arm and didn't make her kneel down. Qing Huan's expression was still a bit stunned, a large red print appeared on half of her face, and a piece of saliva at the corner of her mouth flashed brightly in the sun.

Nan Yang took out a kerchief and gently covered the corners of Qing Huan's mouth, helping her to clean it.

Qing Huan didn't dare to move. She looked at Nan Yang's eyes carefully. She thought that the master would be angry when she bumped into her sleeping in class, but Nan Yang didn't seem to be angry, and there was still no expression on her face.

After wiping, Nan Yang took Qing Huan's hand and took her straight to the door.

"Give her a day off."

When passing by Ping Zilai, a cold voice came.

Being held by Nanyang's hand, Qing Huan became dizzy with joy for a while, and couldn't help but gently squeeze the back of Nanyang's hand. Nan Yang's hand is very soft, because she is the lord and doesn't need to do any work. The only place where there is a cocoon is the one on the outside of the index finger that connects to the tiger's mouth. She practiced swords all the year round, and after a long time she would have such a thin cocoon. Qing Huan likes to touch it very much, she likes her soft fingertips to scratch the roughest part of Nanyang's hand.

Nanyang felt that Qing Huan was pinching herself. She didn't like such frivolous behavior, but she didn't say anything, nor did she even let go of Qing Huan's hand. She just asked, "Tomorrow is your birthday, is there any What do you want?"

"I like everything Master gives me." Qing Huan said with a smile.

Nanyang expected that she would say so. Qing Huan is always tolerant to Nanyang, she will return all the right to choose from all questions to Nanyang, Nanyang chooses everything, and she accepts whatever she chooses.

"I'll take you down the mountain for a day." Nanyang said lightly, "However, if you can't go too far, I will take a stroll around the village at the foot of the mountain."

"Okay, I have always wanted to go there to see it."

Sure enough, Qing Huan expressed her expectation with great face.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, this time I won't say anything about you," Nan Yang's cold voice sounded again, "but the next time I find you sleeping in class, I will go to the ruler."

"understood."

Qing Huan curled his lips. She didn't believe that the master was really willing to beat her.

The Northern Punishment has always not allowed underage disciples to go down the mountain. At the gate of the mountain, more than a dozen disciples are stationed to guard them all the year round. Adult disciples who want to go down the mountain must also have a task and hold a badge given by the Lord to pass. When Qing Huan was young, he was picked up by Nanyang to be punished by the North. He had never been down the mountain before, and she wanted to know what the rivers and lakes were like outside of the punishing. Although I can't set foot in the Central Plains this time, it's not bad to be able to go around the foot of the mountain.

The village at the foot of the mountain has been blessed by Northern Punishment for many years, and has the utmost kindness towards the disciples of Northern Punishment. Therefore, Nanyang brought Qinghuan into the village, and everyone who saw them in white would bow their heads to say hello.

It was in this small village that Nanyang met Qing Huan for the first time because two steamed buns were beaten all over her body. She had always been reluctant to take care of mundane things. She took Xiao Qinghuan back to the North for the first time. She became her third apprentice. You know, the ordinary Beipu disciple Endeavour will not necessarily have the opportunity to be admitted to the Lord's sect, but Nan Yang broke his principles so easily and accepted Qing Huan's arrival.

Back to the old place, Qing Huan somewhat impressed the streets here. This village has left her not very good memories, and she feels a little uncomfortable. But looking at Nanyang next to her, she said nothing.

She didn't want to ruin Nanyang's good mood.

"I have a thatched hut here," Nanyang walked in front and pointed a direction with his chin. "Sometimes it is too late to go back to the mountain. I will rest there for a night. Would you like to come with me?"

"Well, I'll go wherever the master goes."

Nan Yang smiled without a trace.

The sticky little guy.

The thatched house has not been visited for a long time, and as soon as I entered the house, a strong smell of dust came over my face. Qing Huan pulled Nanyang out and asked her to sit on the stone steps outside: "Master, sit down and I will get water to clean up the house."

"Ok."

So Nan Yang sat there with peace of mind and waited for Qing Huan to clean up. She raised her eyes and watched Qing Huan carrying the bucket in and out, and she didn't mean to help. It's not that she doesn't want to help, but that she doesn't have the concept of helping at all. In her world, such labor services as washing, cooking, and sweeping have nothing to do with her being a lord. It shouldn't matter at all.

This is the case for people in high positions. They are used to being dignified and have noble spirit in their bones.

Qing Huan finally wiped the house almost completely. A small face was completely gray. Before the water on her hands could be dried, she heard Nan Yang say, "I'm hungry."

Qing Huan immediately put down the water basin and wiped the sweat from his side with his shoulders: "I'll cook for you."

Nan Yang nodded: "Yeah."

Qing Huan has always been good at cooking, and he especially enjoys the taste of Nanyang. She knew that Nanyang was addicted to sweetness and had to eat sugar every day. If she didn't eat sugar today, she would have to put a lot of sugar in the dishes. Nanyang's indifferent temperament has almost no likes or dislikes, and the only preference is to eat sweets. Of course, Qinghuan takes it to heart.

"I'm going to buy some food." Qing Huan put down her sleeves, "I looked at the stove and there was nothing."

It's strange that there are things, Nanyang usually doesn't cook by herself.

"I'll accompany you to buy it." Nan Yang stood up from the wooden stool that was so brightly polished by Qing Huan.

"Okay," Qing Huan never refused Nan Yang's request, "Master, you pay for it, I'm poor."

Nan Yang glanced at her coldly.

Poor or poor, she gave her a large bag of silver every month. Hongfei Pavilion is a child of a distinguished family, so money is indispensable in his pocket. Qing Huan is an orphan. Nan Yang is afraid that she will be discriminated against among his disciples, so he generously provided her with a lot of money. She didn't want Qing Huan to straighten up in front of others.

How much did she give her? With the money alone, you can create another martial art. If she shouts poor again, there will be no rich people in Beifang.

What Nanyang didn't know was that every time Qing Huan received money, he would secretly send it back to Rongku Pavilion again. For so many years, it was basically the same bag of silver that Nanyang sent over, and she sent it back. She knows that Nanyang is not short of money, but she still wants to leave all the best to her master, even if it is redundant and unnecessary, she also wants to leave it all to her.

"Master, what do you want to eat?" Qing Huan walked in front, tilting her head to figure out what to buy.

"Either way." Nan Yang replied lightly.

"Okay, I'm looking to buy," Qing Huan pursed her mouth and was silent for a while, and then smiled, "I always cook for Master. It's my birthday tomorrow. Can Master also cook for me? Birthday gift?"

"No." Nan Yang refused briefly.

"I teach you." Qing Huan said softly.

"I don't want to learn."

There was no expression on Nanyang's face.

Qinghuan stopped talking, and finally closed his mouth and didn't mention it again.

Also, Nanyang's hand is used to hold the sword and hold the pen. With such a beautiful hand, how could she bear it to touch the pots and pans and the dirty stove?

Qing Huan sighed silently in her heart. It's just that it's always a pity that I never had the opportunity to eat Nanyang's personally cooked rice in my life.