My Taoist nun girlfriend is from the Republic of China era, 1942.

Chapter 186 Explanation of Childhood Sweethearts

In the first semester of her senior year, Chen Xiaomiao had to devote half of her energy to teaching her son Taoist skills in addition to her graduation thesis.

She wasn't a good teacher, but fortunately, Lu Yang, who had just gained enlightenment, was a promising student.

Without much explanation, with just a little guidance, Lu Yang was able to grasp the essence of it quite well.

With the addition of the Taoist scriptures and notes left by Chen Shu, Lu Yang made rapid progress by comparing the two.

In just one semester, he basically caught up with his senior, Lü Jiaxin.

On the first day of winter vacation, the temperature in Wuhan plummeted.

Lu Yang spread out a half-meter-long sheet of Xuan paper in the room and began to write with flowing, powerful strokes.

Zhao Moli stayed by Lu Yang's side as always.

Knowing that Yangyang was busy, she pulled up a small stool and sat down quietly, resting her chin on her hands, without making a fuss.

Only after Lu Yang finished writing the last stroke and placed the brush on the brush washer did she trudge over with her short legs.

"Yangyang, what did you write?"

Now four years old, Zhao Moli has learned quite a few characters in kindergarten, but the flamboyant ink on the rice paper is no different from scribbles to her.

"Li Bai's Changgan Xing".

Lu Yang gently blew on the still-wet ink.

"Li Bai!"

Zhao Moli's eyes lit up, as if she had triggered some key word, and she began to recite with a swaying head: "The bright moonlight shines before my bed, I wonder if it is frost on the ground. I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, then lower my head to think of my hometown!"

After reciting it, she immediately looked at Lu Yang expectantly.

Lu Yang gave a thumbs up: "Jasmine is awesome!"

Upon receiving affirmation, Zhao Moli's smile was exceptionally sweet.

She then pointed to the Xuan paper and exclaimed, "Yangyang, this poem is so long, it must be very difficult to memorize."

"good."

Lu Yang set the Xuan paper aside to dry and asked with a smile, "Do you know the idiom that comes from this poem?"

What idiom is it?

"Childhood sweethearts."

What is a childhood sweetheart?

"We are childhood sweethearts."

Zhao Moli chuckled as she listened.

She didn't understand the allusion and deeper meaning behind those four characters, but Yangyang said they represented "us," so it must be a good thing.

A moment later, she suddenly remembered something and grabbed Lu Yang's hand: "I just came up and saw Qing Tong in the community garden. Let's go downstairs and play with her!"

"Row!"

Lu Yang nodded in agreement and accompanied Zhao Moli downstairs.

A light snow fell a few days ago, but it didn't accumulate much; a thin layer covered the lawn and tree branches in the community garden.

Bathed in the pale winter sunlight, it shimmered with a clear, fragmented light.

The two stood hand in hand at the entrance of the building. A gust of cold wind rushed in, and Zhao Moli instinctively shrank her neck.

"Yangyang, it's cold."

"You won't feel cold if you run."

Lu Yang pulled her along and they started jogging.

Two small figures crossed the open space in front of the apartment building and soon spotted a familiar figure in the center of the garden.

Zheng Qingtong was wearing a pink and white down jacket with a fluffy white fur trim on the hood, which made her already fair face look even more delicate.

Instead of swaying gently as usual, she sat quietly, her black leather boots crunching on the thin snow, her gaze unfocused, her expression dazed.

"Green paulownia!"

Zhao Moli raised her arm, her voice crisp and clear.

Zheng Qingtong raised her head upon hearing the sound, her eyes regaining their clarity.

Why did you all come down?

"Yangyang has finished writing. I'll call him down to play with you."

Zhao Moli ran to Zheng Qingtong's swing, her breath condensing into a small cloud of mist in the air.

Lu Yang glanced at him and asked with concern, "Are you unhappy again?"

Zheng Qingtong pursed her lips and didn't reply.

She couldn't very well say that her parents had been arguing all morning about whose house to visit for the Lunar New Year, that her mother complained that her grandparents' house was in the countryside and she wasn't comfortable there, and that her father felt they should go back to visit them at the end of the year.

She didn't want to repeat herself; saying it would only make her feel more embarrassed.

Unaware of the subtle tension in the atmosphere, Zhao Moli pointed to the patches of snow on the lawn and enthusiastically suggested, "Let's build a snowman!"

The snow in Jiangcheng is precious; most of it melts as soon as it hits the ground, leaving only enough to coat the grass with a layer of frost. It's difficult to build a snowman, let alone roll a snowball.

Lu Yang had no interest in this, but since it was Zhao Moli's suggestion, he nodded.

Zheng Qingtong wanted to refuse, but when she met Zhao Moli's expectant eyes, she swallowed her words and simply murmured "Mmm".

Zhao Moli is a woman of action. She immediately took off her gloves and used her hands to scrape the snow off the grass, along with the mud and withered grass. In no time, she had gathered a small handful of dusty mixture.

Aren't your hands cold?

Lu Yang frowned, pulled a tissue from his pocket, took her hand, carefully wiped the mud and snow off it, and then put her gloves back on.

Zheng Qingtong, on the other hand, appeared much more organized.

She found a fallen, withered branch, carefully scraped the clean snow off the grass, gathered it in one place, and gestured for Zhao Moli to help in the same way.

Lu Yang looked at the two girls in front of him.

A clumsy enthusiasm, like a small, burning flame.

Intelligent and aloof, like a block of transparent ice.

After working for quite some time, they had barely managed to gather a small pile of snow that could barely be called white. Zhao Moli asked expectantly, "Qingtong, can we build a snowman now?"

Zheng Qingtong glanced at her, poked the small snowdrift with a twig, and said, "There's too little snow, just enough to make a mound."

As she spoke, she poked at the snowball with a twig, and soon a fist-sized, fairly round snowball head took shape.

Wow, a snowman's head!

Zhao Moli exclaimed in amazement, feeling that Zheng Qingtong was simply omnipotent.

She looked around, picked up two black berries, and carefully pressed them onto the snowball to serve as eyes.

Then he found a small piece of red grass stem and stuck it below his eyes to serve as a mouth.

"Hehe, it's laughing!"

Mission accomplished, Zhao Moli beamed with joy.

Zheng Qingtong looked at the crooked snowman head, and the corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up slightly.

Suddenly, the balcony window of Lu Yang's house was pushed open, and Erbaiwu poked his head out and barked twice.

"Oh no, there's still porridge cooking at home!"

Reminded by Erbaiwuyi, Lu Yang remembered the important matter his mother had entrusted to him and quickly went upstairs.

Zhao Moli and Zheng Qingtong sat down on the swing and waited quietly for Lu Yang to come downstairs again.

"Qingtong, I have a question for you."

"what?"

Do you know... what "childhood sweetheart" means?

Zhao Moli read the idioms very slowly and clearly, afraid that she might misremember them.

Zheng Qingtong's swaying feet suddenly stopped.

"know."

"Do you also know Li Bai's 'Changgan Xing'?"

"know."

"Ugh……"

Zhao Moli sighed deeply, her head drooping: "Qingtong, you know so much, unlike me, I'm always so stupid. I can't understand a lot of what Yangyang says."

This was the first time Zhao Moli had expressed her grievances in front of someone other than her parents.

She tried hard to keep up with Lu Yang's pace and to understand every word he said, but she felt that the distance between her and Lu Yang seemed to be getting further and further apart.

That feeling made her panic.

The winter wind blew by, swirling up a few withered leaves and making a rustling sound.

Zheng Qingtong comforted her, saying, "Being a little silly isn't so bad."

Zhao Moli looked up at her, puzzled.

Zheng Qingtong glanced away, seemingly unaccustomed to comforting people.

"Yangyang always says his mom is a bit slow, doesn't he?"

"Yup!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Moli cheered up again.

Zhao Moli may be slow-witted, but her logic is very direct.

If the godfather likes the "clumsy" godmother, does Yangyang also like the "clumsy" self?

The moment this thought crossed her mind, Zhao Moli's grievances vanished instantly, and she smiled brightly again, continuing to ask questions out of curiosity.

"Qingtong, what exactly did Li Bai write in 'Changgan Xing'? Why does Yangyang say we're childhood sweethearts?"

Seeing Zhao Moli's eagerness to learn, Zheng Qingtong, unusually patient as a teacher, explained in the simplest language.

That poem tells the story of a girl.

When the girl was very young, a little boy lived in front of her house.

The little boy would always ride a bamboo pole like a horse, running around the stool where she sat. They would also pick green plums together to play with.

Zheng Qingtong's voice was calm and unhurried, even more captivating than that of a kindergarten teacher.

“They played together since they were little and saw each other every day. They had a very good relationship. When they grew up, the girl chose to marry the boy.”

"She married him?"

Zhao Moli's eyes widened in surprise.

"Ah."

Zheng Qingtong continued to explain: "Later, the boy had to go on a long trip to do business, and the girl missed him very much, waiting for him to come back at the door every day."

The poem is about a girl missing a boy and hoping he will come home soon.

She simplified the poignant "Changgan Xing" into a pure story about waiting and staying together.

Although Zhao Moli didn't understand poetry, a clear picture appeared in her mind through Zheng Qingtong's description.

A surge of joy and excitement welled up inside Zhao Moli, making her face flush red.

"Qingtong! Yangyang just said that we grew up together. Does that mean that Yangyang and I will get married in the future?"

For a moment, Zheng Qingtong was speechless.

A complex emotion welled up in Zheng Qingtong's heart.

This feeling was not unfamiliar; whenever the three of them were together, Zheng Qingtong would feel the same emotion to some extent.

But today, this feeling is particularly strong.

Ahead, Lu Yang had already come downstairs again and was running towards the two of them.

Zheng Qingtong exhaled a breath of cold air and nodded to Zhao Moli.

A forced smile...

(End of this chapter)