mud buddha

"Master, it's time to get up." The maid in a thick long skirt opened the curtains and said to the bed curtain.

The sun hit the pale yellow bed curtain, which was like a small tent, rolled with gold thread, shining brightly in the sun.A pair of purple flannel slippers were placed under the bed. The heels were about four or five centimeters high, and the shoes were lined with velvet.Next to the bed stood an oak bedside table with two drawers, each corner polished to a shiny finish.The maid walked over to pick up the candlesticks on the cabinet and wiped them, and put the candles in her pocket.

Pushing aside the bed curtain with one hand, he wrapped his arms around the maid's waist and pulled it inside.There was nothing special about this hand, neither thick nor thin, neither long nor short. Others often praised this hand as white as snow, but for this compliment, they had to scratch their heads for a long time.But the owner of these hands obviously doesn't care about this, because he knows that even if he doesn't have hands, the people around him will find a way to list several aesthetic characteristics of the broken arm for him.The hand didn't use much force, but the maid obviously didn't resist too much, and fell into the bed, not forgetting to bring in the small bowl in front of the bed.

"Cunning little squirrel, what did you stuff in your pocket again?" Nibel rinsed his mouth and handed the bowl back to the maid.

"It's just a small piece of candle stub. You always only use candles that are in good condition, so I'll take them down to use in the kitchen." The maid took the bowl, and stood up with her hands on Nibel's shoulders: "Which one are you going to wear today?" A suit? A brown trench coat or this dark blue one?"

"Where's the coat I ordered from Paris the other day? The one with the lapels."

"I'll take it down and iron it for you—those rough country folks never know how to be sympathetic, and they crumpled up that coat and put it away."

"Countryman?" Nibel froze for a moment, put on his slippers and sat on the bedside: "You mean the one the housekeeper recruited a few days ago—"

"Basile." The maid was already ready to go downstairs with her coat on: "Hmph, you obviously grew up in the countryside, and you even gave him a French name artfully. It's really hypocritical."

"I heard from Anne that he was an orphan. Maybe he really came from France."

"My lord, you haven't come into contact with these country bumpkins. They probably haven't learned a single word in their entire lives, and they just count on a good name to put on airs."

"Okay, Winnie, there's really no way to control your mouth." A woman appeared outside the door with a plate. She looked about 50 or [-] years old, her blond hair was simply coiled behind her head, and the roots of her hair had turned white. The hairline is a bit wide.She wore a light skirt with tightly tied cuffs, and she walked quietly.

"You're right, Anne. Quickly get a lock and lock Winnie's mouth tightly." Nibel smiled.He looked only 30 years old, and his smooth black hair was like thick seaweed.His forehead is full, connected with the high eyebrow arch, which makes him look very energetic.Below the eyebrows are a pair of round and bright eyes, wrapped in a circle of thick and curly eyelashes.He has the blue eyes common to British people, always watery, and every time he blinks, there will be a burst of glances.Winnie snorted and took his coat downstairs

"Today's breakfast is blueberry pie and goat's milk, please take it easy." Annie didn't reply, put down the breakfast and went downstairs.The vertical lines between her brows suggest her inability to be humorous.Nibel likes to eat breakfast in the bedroom, and wash up after eating, in order to prevent any strange taste in his mouth.

There was a series of heavy footsteps in the stairwell.Most people in the family walk very lightly, and the occasional sound of footsteps is just to remind others that someone is coming, but this person who went upstairs seemed to be carrying something very heavy.

"If you can't walk, don't leave." Nibel was a little annoyed hearing the voice.He felt that the goat's milk was very smelly today, to be precise, every time the goat's milk was very smelly, he was planning to use it to water the flowers.

The man finally came to the door of Nibel's room: "Master..." This man had red hair on his head. Although it was neatly combed, the hair quality looked bad.The voice was anxious, wondering if it was the effect of Nibel's words just now.Nibel turned to look at the man, who looked down at his feet, twisted his fingers, and shut his mouth tightly.

"Where are you embroidering?" Nibel was impatient.Although the finger on the opposite side is pretty good, but he is really not interested in watching a big man showing off his hair twitching in front of him.The man was so frightened by these words that his head was lowered, his waist was bent, and he didn't dare to continue playing with his fingers, so he had to put down his hands and pinch the seam of his trousers quietly.

"Master, I..." The poor man's face turned red, almost catching up with his own hair.

Those words seemed to kill him, Niebel thought casually.The poor wretch before him received no answer, and almost knelt on the threshold.

"Look up, Basil. You must allow your master to know what you look like."

Only then did Basile raise his head, but his eyes were still fixed on the ground.He has a pair of delicate eyebrows, the tip of his nose is slightly raised, and his lips are full. Although he is not beautiful, he is also delicate and pleasant.

He looked at the goat's milk in his hand and beckoned Basile to drink it.Basile probably didn't expect the master to be merciful, so he quickly took the goat's milk, suffocated it in one gulp, and was at a loss while holding the cup.Nibel smiled at the nervous look of the red-haired boy in front of him, told him to squat down, and rubbed the red head.Basile looked up at him, and Nibel noticed his pale yellow eyes, slightly drooping at the corners, as pitiful as a puppy.

Nibel put his hand on Basile's chin, brushing the milk stains from his mouth with his thumb.This hand pinched his nose upwards.Basile didn't dare to resist, and panted with his mouth open. Nibel felt that he was more like a puppy, so he decided to give him a collar or something.

But he had something more important to do today, so he dismissed Basile and asked him to bring up the coat that Winnie had brought to be ironed.

This coat from Paris really suits him very well. It looks like he has a slender waist and straight legs, and his playboy style is fully grasped.Nibel was satisfied.Today he was going to see Mrs. Mill, who was a gentle lady and, of course, absolutely beautiful.They have not seen each other for several days.Mr. Mill was ill, and Mrs. Mill accompanied her husband to recuperate in the suburbs.

Mr. Mir is a well-known doctor in the town. He looks dull. Looking at him is like looking at a bottle of boiled water, which lacks interest.I don't know what kind of luck he got. He married a beautiful lady and managed the house well.

They came to visit Nibel the day they first moved in. Nibel was sitting on the sofa and heard their conversation stop at the door.He didn't pay attention to what Mr. Mill looked like, but he remembered Mrs. Mill pursing her lips and looking at his furniture a little nervously.

That night he chatted with Mrs. Mill about literature, about Marseilles, and about fashions in Paris. Mr. Mill just listened quietly from the side, occasionally interjecting a few meaningless but innocuous gossip.

Mrs. Mill's hands tugged hard at the skirt at first, and after a while they relaxed, and her long fingers rested on her thighs, and later, in high spirits, they gesticulated in the air.Before leaving, Nibel stood at the door to see the Mills and his wife out. Mrs. Mills cheeks were flushed, and the tip of her nose was slightly sweating, as if she had just attended a prom.Nibel took out a handkerchief and asked Mrs. Mill to wipe off her sweat. She dodged her eyes and left with Mr. Mill, arm in arm as if she had just arrived, except that Mrs. Mill had an extra handkerchief in her hand.

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