Chapter 2870

Meng fan, with his painter, moved to a mountain in the east of Sun City.

there, as like as two peas and two, he set up a small wooden house, just like the wooden house that Meng fan lived in Wuzhen, then opened some fields and planted some vegetables. Every day, Meng went into the mountains to pick fruit, picked herbs and occasionally returned some small animals.

Days, poverty, happiness.

In a flash, it was another two or three months.

Meng fan still dreams every day, but he will never be scared to wake up by the scene in the dream.

His paintings have more and more verve.

Gradually, he also had the idea to start practicing martial arts again. Because he knew that master was a hermit master, he wanted to ask him for advice. But now, the painter's body is really poor.

The painter can hardly get out of bed now.

His face became more and more ugly and pale, his body became thinner and thinner, and his appetite was worse.

Meng fan is very nervous and nervous every day, so he sleeps very late. He always watches the painter sleep, and he will sleep. He always gets up before the painter. He goes out every day and comes back as soon as possible. It seems that if he is afraid that he can't see the painter, he will never see him.

This fear has been pestering Meng fan.

In contrast, the painter is very insipid.

Plain, some people can't understand.

It seems to be waiting for something and welcoming something.

This day, Meng fan went up the mountain and found a little fox.

It seems that this little fox has no parents and can't walk very well. His hair doesn't grow all the time. He looks very pitiful, but he is very spiritual. When he sees Meng fan, he always calls softly. So Meng fan takes him back, walks into the wooden house and shows it to the painter in a hurry, hoping to make him happy.

In front of his mother, Meng fan is always a child, which is his nature. However, in front of the painter, Meng fan feels that he is more like a child. This is not his nature, but an inexplicable dependence.

The painter lay on the bed, looked at the little fox pale and said with a smile: "it's beautiful."

"Yes, it's beautiful." Meng fan's happy way.

The painter said, "I have not paid attention to the beauty of this little thing in the world for a long time."

The painter said something that Meng fan couldn't understand.

"Help me up. I want to see the scenery outside."

Said the painter.

Meng fan quickly put the little fox in a bamboo basket and helped the painter to walk outside the wooden house. The little fox staggered out of the bamboo basket and followed the painter and Meng fan. After a few steps, he fell down.

Outside the wooden house, the sun has just tilted, indicating that noon has just passed.

With the help of Meng fan, the painter sat on a rocking chair, looking at the sun in the distance, thinking.

This afternoon, Meng fan did not paint an exception.

There is always a kind of uneasiness in his heart. That kind of uneasiness makes him unable to calm down. He is always with the painter and looks at the sun in the distance with him.

Small fox also lies on the ground not far away, quietly accompany them.

Before long, dusk arrived.

The painter said with a smile, "it's time for me to go."

Meng fan was stunned and immediately understood that his eyes were a little sore. He didn't understand why. He reached out to rub it and touched the water. He tried to rub it, but he couldn't stop the flow.

He cried bitterly.

There was no sobbing sound.

Just in silent tears.

Can't stop tears.

The painter didn't go to see Meng fan. Instead, he looked at the sun in the distance and said with a smile, "it's good, it's good. I have experienced countless times of life and death, always think, where will I die, who will die next to, what kind of way to die, is it magnificent? I didn't expect that I died in my hometown and by my side. It's so nice to die so serenely... "

Meng fan didn't care what the painter said. He just struggled: "master..."

"Why cry?" The painter asked calmly.

Meng fan rubbed his eyes: "I I'm afraid of I will never see master again... "

"What are you afraid of?" The painter said with a smile, "Oh, yes. You said that if you only eat pickled vegetables and porridge all your life, you will be happy. But if you eat rare seafood once and then you can't eat it again, it will be very painful. It's more painful to have once and lose it than never to have it. Master is wrong. Master shouldn't be around you, really not. "

Meng fan shook his head desperately: "no No If you meet me, even if you want to see me again, you must know that you want to see me again

His voice, no longer sobbing.

No more hesitation.

Suddenly, it became very firm.

"Even if it will eventually be lost?" Asked the painter.

Meng fan nodded: "it's better than never having one!"

"If you think so, maybe one day you will see me again." The painter said with a smile, "do you believe it?"Meng fan was stunned.

The painter turned his eyes and continued to look at the sun in the distance: "I don't know if a person is strong enough to reverse life and death. Before, I thought that as long as I am strong enough, life and death can be changed, but I have never succeeded. However, you are different from me. As long as you think so, even if I die, you will see me again one day At that moment, you will suddenly realize that, at that moment, you will understand, you will understand a lot of things. "

Meng fan stood in place.

The painter said: "I still want to accompany you, and then calligraphy and painting 30000 Li."

Meng fan immediately stepped forward and took the painter's hand: "master, you will be OK. You will accompany me to write and paint for 30000 Li."

The painter touched Meng fan's head with a smile: "when you paint and calligraphy for 30000 Li, you will see me again."

With that, the painter took out a small cloth bag from his arms.

This cloth bag looks very old. Meng fan can recognize it at a glance that it is from Wuzhen, because there are some patterns of Wuzhen on the cloth bag. It can even be seen that the bag was made by a clever woman in Wuzhen.

Obviously, the painter brought this cloth bag from Wuzhen to here.

"Master, you don't have anything for you. Take the things in this bag."

The painter handed the cloth bag to Meng fan.

Meng fan holds the bag and looks up at her. Tears in his eyes can't stop.

The painter reached out and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Meng fan, don't cry."

The sound, so familiar.

Meng fan was in a trance.

In his nightmares, every time he was frightened, he could hear the voice!

Just then!

The painter's hand, down.

Close your eyes.

It's like, falling asleep.

Meng fan's lips trembled, the bag in his hand fell to the ground, and the things in the bag rolled out, but Meng fan didn't have the heart to see it. He just stayed for a long time.

Then he knelt down to the painter.

The sun set.

A little of the afterglow of the sunset lit the hillside.

On the hillside, the young and handsome painter lay in a rocking chair, serene, as if asleep.

Meng fan kneels on the ground, tears constantly wet the soil, he tried to hold back.

The master said, "don't cry.".

So hold on, don't cry.

Meng Fanqiang supported, let himself stand up, feel something gently rubbing his legs, is the smart little fox.

Little fox, will roll out of the bag of things, pushed to Meng fan in front of.

It's a normal looking thing.

It's like a pebble.

It's a black bead.

Meng fan stretched out his hand, picked up the beads and put them into his arms.

He buried his master and set up a stone tablet. The master did not leave a name. Therefore, Meng fan could only write that he was the best painter in the world.

After seven days of filial piety for his master, Meng fan packed his bags and finally grew up with his hair. But still a very young fox, he patted his chest, touched the black bead and went down the mountain.

He's going back to Wuzhen.

He wants to continue to practice martial arts.

Because Master said that as long as he worked hard, he would meet with master one day.

Because, at last, he understood.

Never had, hide one's ears and steal one's bell, it is sad.

Nothing, is eternal, once owned, very happy.

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