Tomb robber: Tuantuan, I am a national treasure!

“Knock, knock, knock…”

The steady and rhythmic knock on the door sounded in the quiet room, like the ringing of an ancient bell, creating ripples in the air.

Inside the house, Jinnian was concentrating on practicing drawing talismans. Hearing the voice, he turned his head slightly and looked towards the door.

"Enter."

Er Yuehong's voice was like a mountain spring, clear and warm. He slowly released his hand that was gently covering Jinnian's wrist and stood up.

His slender figure swayed, and he turned his wrist and returned the pen to the other person.

Er Yuehong walked up to Jinnian, reached out and touched Jinnian's head, running his fingers through the soft hair. At Jinnian's side, he could only feel a few strands of hair being brushed past his ears.

"You continue painting, I'll go take a look."

His voice rang softly beside Jinnian's ears, and Jinnian nodded. After Er Yuehong had passed, he could not help but lean over to take a look, until his fingers were stained with cinnabar and accidentally rubbed onto his sleeves, and then he concentrated on finishing the remaining strokes.

"Second Master."

Uncle Fu stood respectfully at the door, pushed it open, and bowed to Er Yuehong.

"Well, what's up, Uncle Fu?"

Er Yuehong walked to the outer room and sat on a stool. His eyes inadvertently drifted to Jinnian who was sitting in his seat painting. His eyes swept across the other's chin, and when he saw the same red spots on it, his eyebrows drooped unconsciously.

Uncle Fu put the tea tray and snacks on the table and said with a smile, "Second Master, this was just prepared."

Er Yuehong nodded, but her eyes did not leave Jinnian, "Let's talk here, let Nian Nian play by herself for a while."

"Yeah, okay." Uncle Fu replied.

Er Yuehong also nodded and waved at Jinnian.

When Jinnian heard the voice, he put down his pen and ran over. As soon as he arrived, he saw a large plate of snacks prepared by Fubo.

Uncle Fu helped to put the tea on the table in the outer room, then handed the plate over, wanting to give it to Jinnian.

"Thank you, Uncle Fu. I'll do it." Jinnian smiled and helped to hold the plate. His other hand was still tightly holding the pen. There were some red stains on the exposed hand, like a bunch of blooming peach blossoms.

Seeing that he was stubborn, Uncle Fu didn't bother him any more and let go. Ren Jinnian helped him carry the plate and followed Er Yuehong outside.

In the courtyard, sparse sunlight shines through the mottled leaves and hits the windows, forming golden spots of light. The breeze blows, and the leaves rustle.

"It's like this, Second Master, someone came from Master Buddha's place and said there are some people who seem to be refugees. They can't take care of them, so they want us to help them settle them."

Uncle Fu frowned as he spoke.

Er Yuehong also frowned slightly, bent his knuckles, and tapped the table lightly. The sound was particularly clear in the quiet room.

"Approximately how many people?"

"According to the information from Master Buddha, there are probably twelve or thirteen." Uncle Fu answered respectfully.

"There are quite a few people. Where are they now?"

Er Yuehong's eyes became solemn. Although he didn't know what Master Buddha wanted to do, he couldn't be lying to him. So, he must be preparing to do something?

"It's on Jiu Ye's betting." Uncle Fu looked at Er Yuehong.

Er Yuehong's eyes wandered over the window. The window paper pasted on the window swayed gently in the breeze. It was made by Jinnian last year. It was a little rabbit.

The crisp chirping of birds and the rustling sound of falling leaves outside the house, as well as the rustling sound of Jinnian's pen rubbing against paper, all reached my ears clearly.

He fell into deep thought, his slender fingers unconsciously clenched. It was not easy to resettle these refugees, but since the Buddha had asked, how could he refuse? Moreover, regardless of other considerations, he could not bear to see those people suffer.

After a while, Er Yuehong slowly said, "I understand. Let's go down first."

Er Yuehong's voice was a little low, and a complex emotion flashed in his eyes. He turned his head to look inside the house. Jinnian had just finished painting, shook his hands, and placed the talisman paper on the table.

"Yes, Second Master."

Uncle Fu glanced at the young master in the inner room and retreated silently. He just needed to wait for the second master to make a decision, and he probably guessed what the second master wanted to do. After all, the second master and the young master were both soft-hearted people.

"Is the painting done?"

"Uh-huh!"

Jinnian came over and showed Er Yuehong the talisman paper he had just drawn.

"very beautiful."

There was tenderness in Er Yuehong's eyes, and she praised him a few times.

Jinnian was happy to be praised. He raised the corner of his mouth, watched Er Yuehong raise his hand, and took the initiative to approach.

Er Yuehong gently rubbed the cinnabar off Jinnian's chin with her knuckles and told him, "It's better not to get too much stain on it."

"Okay, then I'll go wash up?"

Jinnian rubbed Er Yuehong's hand and tilted his head, only then did he see that some of it was stained on his clothes as well.

This is still Mr. Ba's clothes.

"Go."

Er Yuehong nodded, and before Jinnian left, he suddenly called out to stop him.

"Ask Uncle Fu to find Chenpi. I need to talk to him about something."

"Okay!"

Jinnian was much more excited to get the "mission" than to do nothing, and he wanted to run out immediately.

As soon as he walked out, he remembered that he still had the yellow talisman in his hand. He had no pockets, so he could only fold it, roll it up and stuff it into his waist belt.

Er Yuehong looked at Jinnian's back. He walked in the yard with brisk steps. Occasionally, a few fallen leaves were blown down and were collected by Jinnian and put into the small basket beside him.

A faint sadness filled the air, dispersing the sunshine left by Jinnian. Er Yuehong twisted the cinnabar on her fingertips, and a few touches of red spread on her white fingers, like winter plum blossoms in the snow.

It's going to change.