But between the lines in the letter, there would always be some sadness that didn't quite fit Fan Ruoruo's age. Presumably, it should be in the capital of the capital. After the death of the eldest lady, the aunt who gave birth to a son became more and more arrogant. The little girl was alone in the capital, and Si Nanbo was busy with official duties. There might be some minor problems in her life.
Picking up the pen and dipping it in some ink, Fan Xian thought for a while before replying to the letter. In the letter, he wrote very discreetly, asking his younger sister to spend more time with Earl Sinan first, to behave softly and cutely in front of her father, never to complain, but to occasionally reveal her resentment.
The second step is to be more aggressive in front of that aunt and some arrogant younger brother. The so-called kindness is bullied by others. If you want not to be bullied, you must at least show that you have the will to resist.
The third step is to be nicer to the servants in the family, especially to Earl Sinan's staff, to adopt the method of watching the uncle show bored admiration with pure and innocent eyes.
Then, offend the current hostess of the Kyoto mansion as much as possible, suffer a little bit, and then find a way to let the host know about this matter—any man will have an inexplicable desire to protect, let alone his own daughter. I believe that under the influence of his surroundings, Earl Sinan will definitely remember that his dead wife left him a daughter.
But this kind of family trick also needs to be mastered. Fan Xian casually nodded a few words, thinking that if Ruoruo is smart enough, he should understand what he means, but he doesn't know if this kind of trick he learned from the romance novel in his previous life will work. useful.
He anxiously waited for the reply, fearing that his blind idea would cause some trouble to the eleven-year-old girl.
Two months later, Fan Ruoruo's reply came. I don't know if these tricks worked, or if there was no so-called stepmother abuse in the capital, anyway, Fan Xian could clearly see that his sister was very happy recently.
It's just that in the letter, Fan Ruoruo asked a little puzzled why he should treat the servants better. It was only then that Fan Xian realized that in such a society with strict stratification, not everyone viewed the relationship between people the same way he did. So he sent another letter and told a few short stories to show that respecting this matter is not only good for others, but also good for yourself.
Originally, Fan Xian wanted to copy a few stories from the Decameron from his own memory and put them in the letter to Kyoto, because he remembered that when he read the textbooks in his previous life, the authoritative critics always praised Boccaccio for praising love and advocating social love in the book. Equality and equality between men and women, but when he regained his senses for a while, Fan Xian was terrified, remembering that there were quite a lot of pornographic jokes in the Decameron.
This was an episode in Fan Xian's life, but it allowed him to find some kind of spiritual sustenance. It seemed that whether the little girl in Kyoto was doing well or not had become an indicator of his happiness index in life.
Although Fan Ruoruo, who was far away in the capital, was young, he could also feel from these letters that the elder brother who was far away in Danzhou seemed to be different from ordinary children. The brothers and sisters with a huge difference in mental age just exchanged letters like this. It is obvious that Fan Ruoruo has also been influenced by Fan Xian a lot. The words and conversations in the letters are much more mature than ordinary little girls, and they have begun to see the world a little better. Very subtle changes.
There are kites in spring, fish in summer, blue birds in autumn, and geese in winter. Letters come and go, and the days pass like this.
※※※
Every time Fan Xian wrote a letter to Fan Ruoruo, he would keep shaking his head with a wry smile. His arm hadn't felt better in the past few years, it was either swollen or painful, like acupuncture. Sometimes I couldn't lift my right hand at all, so I had to write with my left hand, so that Fan Ruoruo, who was in Kyoto, would be amazed at his brother's cautiousness when he received the letter, and he would change his handwriting every other letter.
It all started that night six years ago.
After Fei Lao left, little Fan Xian was very lonely. One night, he sneaked out of the dog's hole with his calf, came to the outside of that weird grocery store that was often closed, and found the back door familiarly. Take out the key from the thick blade of grass, open the door and enter.
The grocery store was originally pitch black, until Fan Xian came to the back door, and only a faint oil lamp was lit inside. Little Fan Xian sniffled, easily found the rice wine that Wu Zhu had prepared for him, smiled sweetly, and took a bowl of wine to drink himself.
Wu Zhu didn't drink, and Fan Xian didn't even see him eating, so he was used to it. Self-care booze, but this scene seems a bit absurd, a six-year-old boy is actually drinking like a heroic ranger in the world, no matter who sees it, he will feel that he is dazzled.
But Wu Zhu just let Fan Xian drink, never caring about his intentions, and even consciously started to prepare some small cold dishes for this young master to drink.
Although he drank rice wine, he still felt a little dizzy after drinking too much. Fan Xian squinted his cute little drunk eyes and looked at the blind man who had no expression on his face and seemed to never grow old: "Uncle, why have you been so old for so many years?" His appearance hasn't changed much? It seems like he won't grow old."
He then asked himself and answered: "It seems that a peerless powerhouse can really stay young forever... But, haven't you practiced your inner strength?"
"Uncle, how many truly powerful people are there in this world? How to classify them?"
"Level nine? Why is it nine again?" The drunken little guy didn't notice the loopholes in his words at all.
"What level are you?"
"No grade?"
"Then what level is the idiot practicing Sigu Sword in Dongyi City?"
"No grade?"
"What level is so-and-so's uncle Ye Liuyun in Kyoto?"
"Still no grade?"
In fact, Fan Xian was asking and answering all the questions, and finally he said with a grin, "That won't work, I want to practice to be levelless."
Blind Wuzhu's hand was slowly but firmly cutting the shredded radish. He slashed the knife very quickly, but the blade would retract as soon as it touched the board. It was so accurate that it was terrifying. The silk is as thick and thin as if measured with a tool, without any difference, and the crystals are stacked on the chopping board, very beautiful.
Wu Zhu raised his head, hesitated for a moment, walked to Fan Xian's side, and stuffed the kitchen knife into his hand.