Her flower vase son

  The heat wave of the three fu days made people sweat all over, and Hua Xiyuan caught a mosquito with her bare hands from behind her neck. It was so hot that even the mosquitoes were dizzy.

  Daughter.

  A soft and gentle voice came from a small glutinous rice ball beside her, who was about the same height as her knee. He was also dressed in black and was Hua Xiyan's child from ancient times, named Hua Muyong, nicknamed Muqiu, Wooden Fool.

  She remembered that when she first arrived, this child was already born and lying alone beside her. Huayexuan didn't know the exact date of birth. Calculating by year, this child should be six years old now. Huayexuan had no experience in giving birth or raising children in modern times, all her experiences were self-taught from ancient times.

  What should a six-year-old child be like?

  Huā Yùyán has no experience and no teacher.

  Compared with other children of the same age, her child is obviously different from others.

  The baby fat that has not yet faded, carved jade and delicate, eyebrows like a painting, lips like a picture, is the ancient beauty of a young man's version.

  Every time she looks at her son's beautiful face, Huayexuan can't help but wonder: Is her son too good-looking to be one of the usual three or four princes?

  Although I don't know if this kid's father is dead or alive, if he really is some kind of third-generation rich kid or fourth-generation rich kid, he will make her suffer until she's burnt to a crisp inside and out.

  She knows well that a handsome guy can only be admired from afar and must not be approached.

  For the sake of her son's future chastity, Huā Xīyàn is willing for Xiǎo Mùmù to grow up a bit ordinary, rather than growing up with an ancient celebrity face but being so stupid that he can't even recite the first sentence of the Three Character Classic after three years.

  "Mom, when people were first born, weren't they like little pigs?"

  At six years old, Hua Muyang stood out among the children like a crane in a flock of chickens. It wasn't just because she looked like a little demon, but also because she had a brain as empty as a small flower vase.

  "Wood wood." Huayu's hand weakly grasped her son's small shoulder, for the nth time helping her son with his Chinese lesson, "At the beginning of human life, like jade unpolished."

  Her small face, like a flower, was smiling foolishly with her mouth open, and the sound of her laughter revealed a bit of childish naivety. But that excessively delicate face, with just one smile, could captivate the city, and even her mother was enchanted to the point of being dazed.

  Huā Yùyán could only close her eyes, stretch out a finger, and pinch the small face of her son who was laughing too mischievously, saying: "Come back, recite the Three Character Classic for me again."

  "Daughter." Hua Xiyan's finger relaxed, and her perfect skin regained its elasticity, the small face that had just been pulled into a noodle shape quickly recovered to its stunning beauty, as if it had been pinched by her mother. Hua Muyan complained with some resentment, "Mother, you look very good too! If you didn't wear a mask, one hundred out of one hundred young masters would turn their heads."

  Ginger is old and spicy after all. Hua Xiuyan's voice was faint as she let out a sigh: "The day your mother gave birth to you, it was already the withered chrysanthemum of a setting sun. A woman who has given birth to children can't compare to a young girl who is still innocent and naive."

  "I'll just be a younger brother to Mother from now on. No one will know that Mother had children."

  Knock!

  He slightly stretched out his finger and gently tapped on that little head which didn't know what it had just said.

  The son doesn't know where he learned all this from. He's already a bit of an airhead, and with these words that came from who-knows-where, he's become a one-of-a-kind little rascal.

  Huā Mù Róng hugged her mother tightly, and her mother gently knocked on her head. She looked up, and her small eyes sparkled as they gazed at her mother's exquisite profile.

  She was truly a beautiful woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen in this world. Even with a fake face mask on, her eyebrows were like the moon, her eyes were like autumn water rippling under the bright moonlight, her movements were as elegant as a startled swan, and her appearance surpassed that of Xi Shi. As his mother would say in a clichéd phrase, she was enough to make fish sink, geese fall, the moon hide, and flowers blush with shame.

  What a beautiful and charming woman! Which man would not want her, unless he is blind.

  Huā Mù Róng had made up her mind since she was a child: if she wanted to find her biological father, she should start by looking among the blind men.

  "Mom, you said my dad's blind eyes can be cured?"

  Hua Yu Nian had no idea what was going on in her son's wooden head, but when she heard him say that his father's eyes were blind, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly: "Want to find Dad?"

  "Don't want to."

  This kid is really strange. Following her, she never cries for her father like other single-parent family kids do. Although this allows her to breathe a sigh of relief in some way. She doesn't want to have any connection with the child's father, and now she lives well with her son alone, not wanting anyone to disturb their quiet life as mother and son.

  Caw caw caw, a string of ravens flew over from among the green mountains and white clouds above their heads.

  This is Langyashan Mountain, the mountain body is not high, no opening up wasteland, weeds are dense, there is only one mountain road in the mountain, for pedestrians and horse-drawn vehicles to enter and exit.

  The wheels are usually quiet, and the villagers do not like to walk on the official road. The vehicles that travel on the official road are mostly the horses of the government offices. There are only a few vehicles passing through here in a day, so it is very quiet.

  Who made this place the most famous poverty-stricken village in southern Hunan?

  In the county, there are only a handful of families who own cars and horses, and the ordinary people in the county can count them on their fingers.

  Huā Yùyán and her son Huā Mùróng hid in the lush old locust tree, enduring the scorching sun for two hours before finally seeing the sprouts.

  Let's go!

  The carter cracked his whip and shouted in a monotonous tone the usual words of encouragement to the horses.

  A mother and son on the tree, staring intently, all black, with a black cloth covering their faces, only revealing their eyes. This outfit makes anyone who sees it think of two words - bandits.

  But if you say this to the mother and son, they will definitely not admit it.

  They're not robbing money, they're hijacking people!

  It's a long story, but to put it in one sentence, the beautiful 13 or 14-year-old daughter of the good neighbor living next door to Huayexian was taken away by the son of the county magistrate, who was notorious for his debauchery. Huayexian saw injustice and took her son to assist with a knife.

  "Mumu, stay on the tree and don't come down without mother's signal." Recognizing the county magistrate's mark on the carriage that was about to slip away under her eyelids, Hua Xiuyan patted her son Xiaojian's shoulder.

  Huā Mù Róng diǎn zhù le xiǎo nǎo guā.

  English Translation: Huā Mù Róng nodded her little head.

  A gust of wind whizzed through the forest, and a woman in black descended with the wind, whooshing down at an extremely fast speed, almost without making a sound, landing on the carriage shaft.

  A faint sound, like a fallen leaf, came from behind him. The coachman turned his head to investigate. Before he could react, a sharp silver light flashed through the air, forming a flying line. A delicate plum blossom needle in the woman's hand pierced the coachman's two eyes, entering through the hole between them.

  No pain, numbness, as if electrocuted, the coachman's whole body was cast with a petrifying spell, unable to move. He saw that the beautiful black-clothed woman turned around, her fair and delicate hand about to lift the curtain of the carriage door.

  The horse pulling the carriage and the people inside were completely unaware of what was happening, continuing to walk slowly along the mountain path.

  It can be seen that the black-clothed woman's martial arts are profound and mysterious.

  The coachman's forehead was beaded with sweat, partly for the master inside and partly for the bold black-clad woman who was also getting nervous.

  This...this is no ordinary person's carriage!

  Huā yù yán doesn't care whose carriage this is, her slender hand presses on the hilt of the knife at her waist, making up her mind to kill him when he's not paying attention... All her life she has hated corrupt officials and degenerates who dare to take advantage of ordinary women, just wait for sister to deal with you!

  Hands parted, ah, and opened the car curtains.