Chapter 2133

My father's hand reached out at once, with a strong arm, so that he could rest assured.

He smiled stupidly, unable to see the sour flash on his father's face.

They walk on the long corridor, where they live. They don't know the castle with a history of hundreds of years. On both sides of the broad corridor, there are paintings of Castle owners from past dynasties, and some European armor and vases of unknown ages.

The painted roofs and walls of the middle ages were colorful, but he could see nothing.

Anyway, if you can't see it, you can walk aimlessly.

He opened a door and smelled the smell of books. It was quiet and peaceful. It was his father's study. When his father was outside, he liked to come here alone. Although he could not read, he was very comfortable here.

He walked in cheerfully, already familiar with everything in the study.

However, the maid who cleaned today probably missed something, and even moved a group of sofas in front of the bookshelf a little to the left.

Ordinary people can't see that little gap in their eyes, but he is blind. A little distance is enough to trip him forward and fall a big heel!

Jingle!

His head hit the edge of the bookshelf, which made his eyes burst into tears.

"Little ink!" Father leaped directly from the other end of the sofa and lifted him up from the ground.

Shaking, he felt headache. There was a layer of tears in front of him. He blinked hard. Suddenly, a little light came in suddenly, which suddenly lit up his dark pupil.

There is a square picture frame in the bookshelf square that his eyes are facing. There are two people in the picture. The background can't be seen clearly. He only sees two beautiful girls.

The one on the left, squinting lazily, raised his hand and built a canopy over his eyes. There was no expression on his face.

The man on the right, with his hands around his chest, slightly raised his chin, laughed wildly, and his red hair burned his eyes like fire.

He quickly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he could see nothing.

The picture was only seen in a moment, so fast that he couldn't believe it was true, but he caught the frame conditionally in the confusion.

As soon as his finger touched the picture frame, there was a kind of sour pain in his heart.

His father helped him to sit down on the sofa, and the always cold man even checked his forehead hurriedly, "Xiaomo, does it hurt? I'll call Dr. Zhao... "

He grabbed his father's hand and stubbornly refused to let him go.

My father didn't leave. He knelt down in front of him and gently rubbed his red forehead. Maybe he saw the picture frame in his hand. My father suddenly stagnated for a while, then asked astringently, "what are you doing with this picture?"

His hand gently brushed on the photo, across a layer of glass, not so real, but enough to let him clearly feel the red haired woman's fire like smile in the photo.

His fingers seem to be scalded.

"Whose is it?"

Father has been used to his short speech. He never said a word all day. It's hard for him to say a word. So father is happy. He pinches his finger and moves it to the man on the left.

"She's your mother. She's not calm." Speaking of the mother, the father's tone was a little different, but I could hear the gentleness in that tone.