Chapter 1099

"The little aunt said," the little fish recalled and said to her father, "children have to tell bedtime stories before they go to bed. They can fall asleep."

Yehe ignored her and looked at the attendant nearby. His tone was quite impatient: "tell her and shut her up after talking."

The babies in the divine world are developing very rapidly. Few are as innocent as their little highness after 300 years.

There are not many books for cubs, but there are many stories suitable for cubs in the world.

Just as the Chamberlain tried to recall what folk stories he had heard before he went down to earth. Before he remembered them, his highness puffed his face and said angrily:

"I want my father to tell me. Others are told by my father."

Yehe looked unchanged: "I won't."

This is naturally false. Although there are few stories and books suitable for cubs in the divine world, and even Yehe has never been to earth since he is busy with his official business, in recent years, the robbery has become a trend. Things on earth and some stories on earth have long been circulated in the divine world.

What's more, Fusang is a man who likes to talk to people after suffering. She didn't even let go of her little niece who is only in her twenties. Under her propaganda, I don't know how many interesting things in the world of mortals have been moved to the divine world.

Even if you don't pay much attention, you can listen to a few words more or less.

If you can't tell a story, everyone can hear the falsehood in his words.

But a little dog leg believed it. She stared round her eyes and looked sad: "poor dad. Even I can tell stories."

Yehe: "

What is it proud to be able to tell stories?

"Well," Yehe didn't bother to argue with her, "sleep with you."

"Dad, let me tell you a story."

The little fish didn't sleep, but was still in high spirits: "my aunt told me a lot of stories. I wrote them down and can tell you all!"

Yehe refused ruthlessly, leaving no father daughter friendship: "I don't want to hear."

"Why?"

The little girl was worried: "it really sounds good!"

Your father just wants to keep his ears clean and doesn't want to hear any ghost stories. When he sees it, he quickly comes forward:

"Your Highness, I'm afraid you don't have much time for your busy business. Why don't you tell my subordinates? My subordinates have never heard a story."

"No!"

The little girl shook her head. "I want to tell Dad first."

The attendant was moved and sad, and looked at Yehe in embarrassment.

Yehe fiercely closed the opened Memorial. His eyes were dark. It seemed that he was spitting out a word: "speak."

The little girl was happy and considerate: "Dad, what story do you want to hear?"

Yehe was expressionless: "the story of how to keep a little fat girl who is only 291 years old shut up forever."

"Ah?" this sentence was too long, and the little fish didn't turn his head.

The attendant hurried forward and explained with a smile: "what you mean is, your little highness, just watch and talk."

Now the little girl understood and was happy again: "Dad, it's very kind of you."

Yehe: "

Attendant: "

Hey, your highness is so easy to cheat. What should I do in the future.

Then, the little girl gave her father a vivid description of the story of seven pears, riding a pumpkin cart, holding a fairy stick, going up the mountain to beat the female tiger.

Yehe didn't know what expression he had, but after a long silence, the waiter seemed to remember something and asked hard, "Your Highness, these seven pears... Shouldn't they be called dwarfs?"

"Yes," the little girl thought for a moment and said, "my aunt said, they are all small, as small as pears, and there are seven more!"

The waiter couldn't laugh: "then this pumpkin car..."

Shouldn't this be in Cinderella's story!

How did you get into snow white!

And even let seven dwarfs get on the pumpkin car. Where's Cinderella? Dead?

Are they seven dwarfs or seven robbers.

The little girl was confident: "there are too many people. It's faster to take a car, because we have to fight tigers!"

The tiger is even more outrageous, and still uses the fairy stick to fight.

Yes? Are you going to go to the mountain to do a magic trick for the tiger and make the tiger laugh to death?

The Chamberlain choked and gently reminded her of the wrong story: "Your Highness, if I remember correctly, it is not seven dwarfs who beat the tiger, but a talent named 'Wu Song'."

"Really?"

The little girl couldn't believe her memory was wrong. She scratched her head and looked at the night.

Yehe didn't say much, but glanced at her faintly: "look what I'm doing, isn't it you who tell the story."

The little girl patted her head: "yes."

With her big black eyes, the little girl turned her head and asked, "uncle, have you heard my aunt tell this story?"

The Chamberlain jerked at the corner of his mouth: "... That's not true."

Even if I've heard it, it shouldn't be a story with so many stories.

The little girl's confidence came in an instant. The expression on her face looked very confident: "it must be your uncle. You remember wrong. The tiger is made of pears, not five!"

She looked overconfident as if she had really hit a tiger. Then she couldn't help whispering:

"There are seven of us. They are very powerful. Only one of them is five. How can we kill the tiger? Only pears can be killed..."

Attendant: "

They call it "Wusong"!

Wu Song!!!

Rob someone else's tiger and call someone else's name right.

But this self-confident, shameless, almost domineering appearance is a bit of their shadow on the monarch.

Not only the waiter collapsed, but also Fusang, who listened to the story of startling heaven and earth crying ghosts and gods, collapsed.

Not only fell into deep doubt: is this really the story she told before?

Moreover, Fusang almost lost the ability to tell stories to others.

Whenever she tells people about fairy tales, fables and stories on earth, the first thing in her mind is:

Her seven dear nieces robbed Cinderella's pumpkin car and the fairy's stick. They ran to the mountain and robbed Wu Song's tiger. They caught it and beat it.

Seven little ones, holding the fairy stick, surrounded by tigers many times taller than them

Thinking of that picture, I couldn't look directly at those stories for a time.

But at noon the next day, one more person was on the verge of collapse.

The little girl lay on her father's back and asked, "Dad, can you tell a bedtime story today?"

Yehe: "

Yesterday, I listened to several stories. The attendant with a haggard face said: "...."

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