I asked you to draw what you like, but you drew the funeral of Fulilian

"No, this guy is just a little devil..."

During this journey, Philen had a deep understanding of Hugh Tark.

This was obviously a child looking at the clouds for his own amusement, Hugh Tark had no intention of being a pervert.

"Tell Philen later."

Hush Tark's voice came from behind.

"How do you want me to respond?" Philen was very distressed and helpless when he heard Hugh Tark's words.

Philen sighed silently.

The footsteps gradually approached Hugh Tark.

"Mr. Hugh Tark."

Hearing Philen's voice, Hugh Tark turned around and smiled: "Philen, you came just in time."

"That cloud...uh..." Hugh Tark was pointing excitedly at the clouds in the sky, but he saw Philen frowning and looking at him with a very ugly expression.

"Sorry, I didn't say anything."

Hush Tark didn't know what happened to Philen, and apologized quickly.

I am most afraid of the air suddenly being quiet.

Hugh Tark was a little panicked. He didn't know what happened to Philen and why she looked so unhappy.

"Uh... that..."

"How about walking together?" Philen asked.

"Okay." Hugh Tark replied obediently.

Philen walked in front, and Hugh Tark stared at the back of her head, "I say."

"Why are you angry?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Philen didn't respond immediately after hearing this.

She didn't know how to start.

Behind her, Hugh Tark closed his eyes and said helplessly: "I apologize."

[Because the filter is broken (o(╥﹏╥)o)]

[I laughed to death. ]

Philen was entangled in his heart, 'No matter what, I will be suspected, so I'd better go straight to the point. '

Philen turned around, "Mr. Hugh Tark, do you want anything?"

"Why do you ask this?"

"Because today is your birthday." Philen turned around.

"Really?" Hugh Tark didn't remember at all, "Does this have anything to do with what I want?"

Firen was stunned for a second by such a question, then turned his head and said:

"I want to give you a birthday present."

"Ah?" Hugh Tark was confused, "You want to give me something?"

Firen saw Hugh Tark was stupid.

Squinting his eyes and speechless, he turned around and was about to leave, "I feel a little angry, I'd better not give it."

"Ah——" Hugh Tark was dumbfounded.

"I'm not kidding you..."

Hugh Tark followed him, "Because on my birthday."

"I never received a gift."

He found that when he heard this, Feiren stopped.

Turning back, his eyes were still surprised.

Hugh Tark explained: "Master, and my dead family, have never given me a gift."

"I thought birthdays should be like this."

【Firen: ◑.◑What? 】

【Dwarves shouldn't care about these things, their lifespans are too long. 】

Firen turned around and asked him: "Didn't your family send you off?"

"Is this the custom in your hometown?"

Xiutalk looked bitter, "No."

"They probably just didn't take me seriously."

Firen saw this and listened carefully.

"My hometown is a warrior village, there is no place for the mentally retarded." Xiutalk's tone was obviously not as lively as before.

The background music was a little sad, with a female voice humming.

"It's so embarrassing to deal with monsters." A serious man's voice sounded next to Xiutalk's ear.

The screen switched.

A man in a black cloak, with scars on his face and eyes, reprimanded the five people around him in a serious tone.

Their white cloaks were embarrassment and blood, and they looked injured.

"Learn from Hugh Tolts."

At this moment, a young man with a sharp sword and clean reddish-brown hair on a white cloak is standing next to a fallen monster that is dissipating.

There is blood on the sword.

It is obvious that this man killed the monster.

"Not only is he not injured, he is not even stained with blood and mud."

[He looks like Hugh Talke, is he his brother? ]

[So handsome. ]

It's cloudy.

There is white smoke floating in the chimney of the house behind him, as if someone is cooking.

"The spotless white cloak is the proof of the strongest warrior in the village." The man followed the reddish-brown hair, "Hugh Tolts is the pride of our village."

"That's natural, Dad." Hugh Tolts spoke to the man next to him.

At this time, the two turned their heads.

I saw little Hugh Tark holding a wooden stick and training against a wooden dummy. At this time, Hugh Tark looked only four or five years old.

"In comparison, Hugh Tark is a failure." The old man said in a toneHeavy, "He practices martial arts every day, but he has never fought a monster properly."

"It's raining, go home." After saying that, the old man left.

Hugh Talker stood there, looking at the little Hugh Talker who was practicing.

"I'll go and teach my silly brother." Hugh Talker said.

"Don't bully him too much, I'll go back first." The old man didn't look back, "Teaching him is a waste of time."

It had already started to rain, and the little Hugh Talker was holding a wooden stick in his hand, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, and his face was covered with sweat. He was about to swing the wooden stick.

"Hugh Talker." Hugh Talker's mature voice sounded.

While speaking, the little Hugh Talker waved his hand and waved it into the puddle on the ground, splashing a piece of muddy water, which stained Hugh Talker's robe.

Leaving a gray stain.

Hugh Talker was very surprised.

"Brother..." Little Hugh Tark was a little surprised, but seeing the clothes that he had soiled was tantamount to humiliation for the people in the warrior village.

Hugh Tark was a little stunned, and couldn't help but reach out and touch the mud on his collar.

"I'm sorry..." Little Hugh Tark was about to apologize.

Hugh Tark smiled, "You are very focused."

Seeing his brother smiled and praised him.

Little Hugh Tark was a little confused.

Hugh Tark stepped forward and reached out to touch Little Hugh Tark's hair, "You will definitely become stronger."

"But the posture is not right." Hugh Tark half-knelt on the ground, level with Little Hugh Tark, and the white robe on his body was wet and stained with mud.

Hugh Tark was focused, holding his hands on Little Hugh Tark's wrists, teaching him the correct holding posture.

[The hem of my brother's cape is dirty (but this picture is so warm)]

[The strongest warrior has a spotless white cape in battle, but is willing to get stained with mud when facing his family. I am so moved. ]

[My brother is really good. ]

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Thank you for the warmth from all the readers!

Rolling around to ask for gifts~~