The myth begins with the Lotus Lantern

Chapter 174 In Public
On the ridge of the field, the cowherd tied a sickle behind his waist, held a child in each hand, and walked forward.

Suddenly, the boy Niu Jin stopped.

"Dad," the boy lowered his head and said sullenly, "They are talking about mom behind her back again."

The bloodline of immortals is so extraordinary that even before they start practicing, miraculous things have already happened. Even though they are so far away, those words can still be heard.

"Gou'er and the others said the same thing about their mother just now, and Yin'er heard it!" the little girl also said.

"Then why don't you play with them?" The cowherd smiled.

"But, if I don't play with them, Yin'er will have no one to play with." The little girl blinked innocently.

The boy suddenly fell silent. After a while he raised his head and looked at the cowherd.

"Daddy, Jin'er...Jin'er doesn't like mom..."

The sound was very soft, but it struck the heart like a heavy hammer.

The girl was a little slower and also looked up at the cowherd.

The cowherd's hand that was stroking the two children's heads suddenly stopped. He was facing the setting sun, and the sunlight made his shadow very long.

"Your mother is sick."

The cowherd said, giving a seemingly ambiguous answer, seemingly an excuse, but he neither corrected nor denied it. Under his messy hair, his pair of deep eyes were calm.

……

By the time the father and his two sons returned home, it was almost dark. The sun had set and twilight had enveloped the entire small mountain village. The mud fence was pushed open with a creak. The old cow that was chewing grass in the cowshed heard the noise, turned its head and looked, its big eyes blinking, clear and dazed.

The cowherd walked over and patted the old cow on the head. The latter honestly let him do as he pleased, wagging its tail to drive away mosquitoes.

Afterwards, Niulang did not go into the house immediately. He pulled out two green vegetables from the vegetable patch in the yard, washed them in the creek at the entrance of the village, and filled a pottery jar with water before returning to the house.

There is no door to divide the room. A simple straw curtain separates the inside and the outside.

Farmers' homes don't have their own kitchens. In order to avoid smoke, they just casually built a stove under the eaves. In the faint light left outside, at the table in the main room, Niulang chopped the vegetables finely. The knife and the chopping board collided, making a dull "thump thump" sound.

There was a moment of silence in the inner room.

The cowherd was busy with his own work. Suddenly, light shone through the gaps in the straw curtains. It was dim and yellow. The oil lamp was lit so early in the room. This was an unimaginable luxury in the village, but the cowherd just took a look and said nothing. He opened the lid of the rice jar in the corner, took out a little rice, mixed the chopped vegetables with the rice, sprinkled some coarse salt on it, and then took it out.

"Mother, the sky is still visible now, and you just lit the lamp. It wastes so much oil." At this time, the boy's voice came from the inner room.

"Daddy works so hard." the girl also said.

"Have you practiced the characters I taught you yesterday today? Write them down for me to see. If you have forgotten, each of you will be hit on the hand ten times." A cold female voice sounded, a little stern.

"Mom is bad!" the little girl shouted.

Under the eaves, Niulang still seemed not to hear the movement in the inner room. He lit the fire, then looked at the stove intently, adding a piece of firewood from time to time. The smoke rose from under the eaves, and the flames were wanton, imprinted on Niulang's face, which was red, with only a pair of black pupils as calm as a well...

……

"Food is ready."

The voice sounded.

There was a sudden silence in the inner room.

The cowherd leaned sideways and used his shoulder to push open a gap in the straw mat. He held the pottery jar in both hands and walked carefully.

A light is like a bean.

On a low table, two little kids with sad faces were learning to write. A girl in a cloth dress turned her head and saw Niulang. Her expression became even colder and she just stood there without going forward to help.

"Daddy!"

The girl got up hurriedly and helped the cowherd to lift the straw curtain. The boy got up a little slower, looked up at the weaver girl with some dissatisfaction, and then also went to meet her.

"Be careful of the heat!" The cowherd placed the clay pot on a grass ring woven from wheat straw on the ground - the clay pot that had just been taken off the stove could not be placed directly on the ground, otherwise the alternating hot and cold would cause the clay pot to crack.

"I'll go get the bowls and chopsticks," the Cowherd looked at the Weaver Girl, "You've been learning for so long, let's eat first."

The Weaver Girl just looked at her coldly without answering.

The boy pulled the hem of the Weaver Girl's skirt.

"Mom is bad!" the girl shouted directly.

"Don't talk about your mother like that!" The cowherd frowned and looked at the girl.

"Daddy, I'm helping you." The girl felt a little aggrieved, and pouted her mouth, looking as if she was about to cry.

The light was dim, and there was no change in the Weaver Girl's expression. But she didn't know if it was because of the flickering lights, the interweaving of light and shadow, but her eyes dimmed.

The dishes and chopsticks were brought up.

The Cowherd picked out the rice grains from the earthenware jar and gave the thickest portion to the Weaver Girl. When it was his turn, there were only some yellowish vegetable leaves soaked in soup.

"Daddy, you eat my bowl. You still have to go to work later. How can you eat so little?" The boy handed over his ceramic bowl. The girl hesitated for a moment, then followed suit silently, looking up and glancing at her mother.

"No need. Daddy is strong, just eat whatever you want. You guys eat yours." said the cowherd. But the two kids didn't give most of the rice in their bowls to the cowherd without him saying anything.

The Weaver Girl silently fed the child with her own bowl. She was far away from the Cowherd, her body pressed against the wall. The lights in the corner were dim, and the expression on her face could not be seen clearly.

Silently had a dinner.

"Daddy, I'm done eating." Niulang finished his meal in two or three bites, and then used chopsticks to scrape out the last grain of rice. "I'm going to go to the fields first. When you guys are done, just put the bowls and chopsticks on the table in the main hall and I'll come back to clean them up."

"Daddy, don't worry, I'll clean up later." said the boy, glancing at the Weaver Girl.

There was no expression on the Weaver Girl's face.

But can you no longer contain the dull pain in your heart?

……

When Niulang went out again, the villagers were coming back in twos and threes.

"Erlang, it's time to go to the fields after eating."

"Well, you are back, ma'am."

"Your daughter-in-law..."

Greetings along the way.

It was not until he passed the village that the sky became cold again. The sun had already set when he returned, and after a dinner, it was completely dark.

Day and night alternate.

The moon hangs high in the sky, but the light it emits can only illuminate a corner of the sky, and there is only darkness on the ground.

The cowherd walked into the darkness alone.

Suddenly, a gust of night wind blew by.

The wheat fields rustled.

"tread!"

There was a sound of trampling behind Niulang, which was extremely sudden and there was no sign of it beforehand.

Because, it fell from thin air.

(End of this chapter)