When Qing Huan and Cheng hurried back to the pier tomorrow night, the master who sailed the boat was chatting with Nan Yang in Thai, and Nan Yang stood by the side with a blank face, occasionally speaking in less fluent English to the master. Exchange two sentences. Seeing them coming, she beckoned: "Come here."
"Sorry, it's just been delayed for too long." Qing Huan apologized and rushed down the stairs.
The boat is not big, that is to say, there are ten people. There is a VJ at the bow and stern, and another camera tripod. The four of them just sit in the middle. Nanyang got on the boat first. The boat was a little far from the shore. Everyone was careful when getting on the boat, for fear of accidentally falling into the water. Only she walked lightly, as if she stepped over.
"Come on, hand." Nanyang stood calmly in the swaying boat and stretched out his hand to Qinghuan.
Qing Huan grabbed Nan Yang's hand and cautiously stepped onto the boat with her head buried.
"hiss-"
Both of them took a breath, but their hands subconsciously covered the same person's forehead.
Qinghuan touched her forehead, felt the fingers on the back of her hand, and stared blankly at Nanyang who was close at hand.
"Are you alright?" Nan Yang gently touched it across Qing Huan's hand.
Qing Huan shook her head, her other hand stroked Nanyang's reddened chin, and said with concern, "Does it hurt?"
"...it doesn't hurt."
"That's good."
Tomorrow night Cheng, who was standing in line on the shore and waiting to get on the boat, folded his arms and clicked his tongue impatiently, "Master, Patriarch, can you both sit down and get tired and stay out of the way?"
Qing Huan blushed and pulled Nan Yang to sit down in the front row.
The night has come completely, the master boatman sits in the stern and controls the direction of the boat with an engine. With the sound of rumbling, the boat starts. There is a huge river, surrounded by fishing boats that set off together, each of which is full of tourists, all holding selfie sticks to shoot and record excitedly. The night wind was blowing, and the humidity on the water surface was much cooler than before.
Nanyang pulled Qing Huan and let her sit in his arms.
Qing Huan thought she wanted to be intimate with herself, even if she felt it was inappropriate in front of the camera, she did not refuse. After a while, a hat was suddenly pressed down on her head, and the man behind her slender fingers pressed the brim of the hat, carefully helping her put it on correctly.
"What's wrong?" Qing Huan touched the hat on top of her head, and turned her head slightly to look at the woman behind her.
Nanyang wrapped her waist around her, hugged her tightly, and whispered in her ear: "It's windy and a little cold, I'm afraid you will be blown."
Qing Huan was startled.
It turned out that Nanyang wanted to use her body temperature to help her resist the strong evening wind on the river.
Qing Huan couldn't help shrinking deeper into Nan Yang's arms, holding the fingers in front of her lower abdomen with both hands, stroking the thin layer of calluses on the outside of Nan Yang's right index finger, bowing her head and smiling, and suddenly asked, "Master's right hand ...will it get better in the future?"
"It should be." Nanyang spread his hand following her movements and let her squeeze it.
"Then... When things get better in the future, will Master try to write calligraphy again?"
Nanyang was stunned when he heard the words, and was silent for a long time before he said, "Qing Huan, I haven't touched a brush for three thousand years, and I won't be able to write for a long time."
Qing Huan's heart twitched, remembering what Cheng said to herself not long ago tomorrow night, her brows knitted together.
"It's okay, Master, there are still several decades in the future, I can accompany you to write slowly." Qing Huan gently held Nan Yang's hand in her palm, "Try to write, okay?"
Those things she had lost, she wanted to help her get them back one by one.
Nanyang was noncommittal, only chuckled in Qinghuan's ear and asked, "Did you remember the words I used to say?"
"Yes, Master used to write really good-looking, the most beautiful in the world."
"Then you think I'm not good at writing now."
"No," Qing Huan hurriedly denied, "I don't dislike you, I just... just make a suggestion. If Master doesn't want to, of course I won't force you."
Nanyang put his chin on Qing Huan's shoulder, and was squinted by the oncoming evening wind, "If you want to see me write, I will write."
Qing Huan turned to look at her in surprise: "Really?"
"Well, really."
Nanyang shook his right hand, the fingernail of his thumb was pressed against the palm of his hand, and the wrist bone was still tingling. But she still did not show this discomfort on her face as before. She turned her eyes and met Qing Huan's gaze. The fishery fire on both sides of the strait reflected in her eyes, soft like the sea of clouds.
Qing Huan grabbed her right hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed the back of her hand quietly.
"Master, you are the best person in the world."
She whispered in Nanyang's ear in a very soft tone.
Nanyang smiled, "I'm not that good."
"No, you are so good," Qing Huan was a little angry, and squeezed her palm a little harder, "I will tell you this every day from now on, until you believe it."
Nanyang looked at her deeply, his voice getting softer and softer: "How long can you talk?"
Qing Huan raised her neck, her eyes slid to the corners of her eyes, and her lips curled into a smile: "I can say it for a lifetime."
Nanyang turned her eyes to the front, and looked at a patch of fireflies that began to appear in the bushes on the shore. The twinkling lights and stars were dotted in her light-colored eyes, as if a corner of the Milky Way had been cut out and flowed into her eyes.
"Okay, then I'll listen to it for the rest of my life."
When Qing Huan heard this murmur, the tip of her nose was sour, she couldn't help turning around and hugging Nan Yang's waist. The ship has sailed into a desolate place, and the two sides of the river are deserted. The dark trees are filled with clumps of fireflies, some perching on branches, some flying in the sky, shining bright spots of light. The VJs were also immersed in such a rare sight, and a boatload of people looked around and marveled at the beauty in front of them, and no one paid attention to what the people in the front row were doing.
Surrounded by fireflies, Qing Huan leaned forward and kissed Nan Yang's lips.
The brim of the hat poked Nanyang's forehead, flipped the hat back, and fell into the water with a "click".
When Nan Yang closed his eyes, he stretched out his hand to scoop it out with precision, and saved Qing Huan's hat from the wet. The slender white fingers twisted the brim of the hat and hung it overboard. The water on the hat fell tick tock into the river, and as the boat moved forward, it dripped with ripples like a road of blooming flowers.
After kissing deeply for five seconds, Qing Huan moved her lips away, hugged Nan Yang into her arms, and whispered in her ear:
"Master, I love you so much."
Nanyang wrapped her arms around her back and patted her gently, with a doting smile on the corners of her lips: "Well, I know."
"You must believe that I have always loved you very much. Three thousand years ago, I loved you until I died. Now three thousand years later, I will love you until I die."
Nanyang was stunned for a while, then carefully asked:
"What happened three thousand years ago... do you remember?"
Qing Huan knew what her heart had been for so many years, and smiled relievedly: "Master, you have read my suicide note so many times, but have you ever read a trace of resentment in it?"
Nanyang was silent for a long time before shaking his head slightly.
"I didn't hate you 3,000 years ago, and I still don't hate you now. I don't hate you, just like I know you wouldn't hate me for cutting you off, I only have heartache and love for you, other than that Other than that, there is nothing else. Don't feel sorry for me, because I don't feel that you have anything to blame for me, and you haven't done anything wrong. From beginning to end, you are not wrong, do you understand?"
The corners of Nanyang's eyes were red, the deepest stubborn stubborn in his heart was poked, and there was a bit of choking in his voice that could not be concealed:
"I am not wrong?"
"you're not wrong."
Qing Huan repeated it firmly in her ear.
Nanyang buried his head in Qinghuan's shoulder, like a child who did something wrong, his cry became even stronger:
"But I think it's my fault. I almost killed you when you were three years old, and I couldn't save you when you were seventeen. If I didn't go with Shimen to destroy your sect, if I did Better yet, you won't end up like that..."
"How can you take all the faults on your body?" Qing Huan pinched the diamond earrings on Nanyang's earlobe, her voice soft as water, "Master, only idiots are stupid. It's not necessary to carry the pot yourself. You look too high on yourself. How could you create such a big disaster by yourself? The ordinary people among them are nothing more than just because you and I have neither the ability to turn the tide nor the destructive power to destroy the world, so we were caught in the middle and ended in a helpless end.”
"So, don't think it's your fault, you're not wrong, you've done it well, you've done it better than anyone, really."
"You have worked so hard for such a long time. You have worked so hard, Master."
"… "
Nanyang didn't speak, just raised his eyes silently, his wet eyelashes drooping under the light of the fireflies.
Although she didn't speak, the long-condensed gloom in her eyes was gone, replaced by a deep and long softness.
After waiting for three thousand years, she finally heard someone say to her:
you're not wrong.
You did very well.
She is not wrong. She has worked really hard for so many years.
"Come on, stop crying, everyone should notice you later." Qing Huan stroked her long hair.
Nanyang said dully: "I didn't cry."
"Well - I didn't cry, I didn't cry, you said I didn't cry," Qing Huan nodded again and again, "Hurry up and watch the fireflies, patronize and talk to me, you didn't even look at the fireflies."
Nanyang glanced at her, and his tone returned to his original indifference: "I've watched the fireflies in Amphawa fifteen times."
Qing Huan tutted twice: "As expected of an old monster who has lived for more than 3,500 years."
"...You say I'm old again."
"Hey, don't you dare, how old are you. In other words, Master should start to grow older from the age of 20 now, so I'm four years older than you." Qing Huan snapped her fingers before she realized the question. , "I can't come to give birth to a child. I'm more 'senior mother' than you."
Nanyang didn't argue with her, on the contrary, he naturally agreed: "Then I will live in the next life."
He smiled lightly: "Why do you want to have a child so much? Come on, you can give birth if you want. Before, I thought you were thirty-five years old and wouldn't let you have a child. Now it seems... Twenty-year-old body is healthy. , you can give birth to a football team for me."
"… "
"Why didn't Master speak? Scared?"
"… "
Qing Huan hugged her, scratched her waist, and whispered, "I'm really scared? I'm joking with you, I don't want you to work so hard, just give birth to one."
"No," Nanyang looked at a firefly parked on the edge of the boat, "I was just thinking... Before giving birth to a child, should the wedding be done properly..."
"Ah—wedding—" Qing Huan dragged her end, nodded thoughtfully, and then smirked again, "I've said it before, I'll prepare the wedding, and I'll pick the wedding dress. Master thought I was joking. ?"
"… What's the meaning?"
"It means that after three days, the show will be suspended for a day. Then, in Phuket, you will see one of the most unique water weddings in the world."