The night wind blew over the window sill, over the three-crying nighthawks on alert on the branches outside the mansion, and over the dedicated Headless Horseman hidden behind the front wall...

The firewood in the fireplace was crackling, and Mr. Shawshank Rogers was enjoying a wonderful rest in the deep purple velvet sofa...

Suddenly, he opened those gray eyes.

Removed the cashmere blanket covering his body, and carefully placed the "Long Poem of the Night Wind" that he had been holding in his left hand on the gorgeous coffee table at hand. Shawshank Rogers got up and put on his shoes, waving the black robe that was on the side He flew up and landed on himself, and walked towards the door of the room with one stride—the next step was to step into the basement of the mansion.

However, he did not teleport directly to the temple on the central axis, but walked in quickly with pious steps...

He saw it from a distance—at the foot of the statue of the goddess holding the torch, a candle lit itself, and it was emitting a quiet, gentle, and long-lasting light that was different from ordinary candles.

Shawshank Rogers stood still in the temple, looked at the resolute face of the goddess, and then stared at the first lit "candle of faith" with relief.

At this moment, in the lower city of New York City, a hundred kilometers away, Henry Hart had just finished his "confidence" to Ms. Hersheys, and fell asleep peacefully.

The first believer is born...

Like a very thin stream of water, it merged into the underground river.

No matter how small, Sean sensed it—like a tiny spot of light, gently melting into his soul.

Belonging to this spiritual product, the existence of "Shawshank Rogers" has become more substantial and stable, and its personal charm has also been imperceptibly improved.

Outside the window, the shrubs, cherry trees, apple trees, and pine trees covering the black mansion are all rising at a speed visible to the naked eye—this symbolizes the power of faith and the nourishment of this place.

Placed in the center of the second floor of the mansion, the pottery statue of Lost is in continuous effect, and the power released by it also requires the expenditure of the soul. After the first power of faith was connected, its "power" increased, and the range of influence extended a few steps away...

There are many such small changes—the whole spiritual world is like an organism, which has been slightly grown.

Shawshank Rogers stared at the peaceful candle for a long time, with a faint smile on his face.

—

The rooster raised in the coop in the corridor by someone's family crowed again in the early morning.

Usually, Henry Hart, who was sad and distressed, would feel depressed and irritable when he heard the **** crowing in the corridor because he had not slept all night.

And today...

He had been woken by the crowing of a cock—he had just enjoyed a dark, sweet night's sleep.

"Thanks to the goddess!" He sat up with hot eyes, "Thanks to Ms. Hersheys!"

Sometimes all it takes is a good night's sleep to rekindle your zest for life.

He picked up the black classic on the bedside and stuck it to his face gratefully.

"Of course, thanks to Mr. Rogers!" Henry Hart pursed his lips and clenched his fists, recalling the appearance of that wise and elegant gentleman last night, his heart filled with gratitude and trust.

Jenny Hart opened her big dim eyes and woke up from her sleep. She got off the bed with some doubts, and looked at the busy father in the kitchen...

What happened to dad today?

Usually, he who is taciturn in the morning is singing while making breakfast?

Jenny Hart looked at her father's cheerful back in disbelief, and the cloud in the child's heart dissipated a little.

—

The lighting of the first candle of faith gave Sean great confidence—in the whole process of preaching to Henry Hart, Sean did not use his functions, but only narrated "Night Wind" in the most sincere tone. The story on Long Poetry...

Unexpectedly, the first believer could be harvested so smoothly!

"Maybe it's because..." Sean, who was in a good mood, chose to brew his own coffee, thinking while preparing the filter paper, "Ms. Hershey's image and story naturally make people feel amiable.

"My direction is right!"

Aaliyah, who was wearing pink pajamas, came out of the room in a daze. Seeing her brother with a smile on her face, and Olivia, who was walking lightly and obviously in a good mood, she frowned suspiciously: "Sean, there is another What good happened?"

Sean shrugged - I don't know why, although he already has a lot of readers, and the income of the explorers is quite considerable...

But this harvest made him inexplicably excited.

Perhaps because of pushing the "pepper shaker"? Because the road to "The Dark Knight" has finally taken its first step?

"Every day is worth celebrating, isn't it?" Sean poured hot water into the cup, smiled and tilted his head.

Maybe it was Sean's busy work a while ago, which finally had a good result?

The quick-witted younger sister guessed right away why her brother was in a good mood.

Today is the weekend, and she doesn't mind spending time with the beautiful Sean. So, Aaliyah, who had slightly longer hair, also hummed a song, took the newspaper that was still on the floor mat at the door, and went to the kitchen, where she and Sean prepared a breakfast that they could chat and enjoy for a while.

This euphoric mood lasted until the sun went down.

When Mr. Shawshank Rogers came out again, Sean had already adjusted his mood to a relatively stable position—

"Don't be too complacent, and you shouldn't be too optimistic." Shawshank deliberately suppressed the vigorous feeling in his heart, and walked into the streets of the lower city again with steady steps.

Sure enough, prudence and prudence always pay off.

Shawshank, who had been spreading hair-thin ectoplasm around him, felt that some serious power was approaching around the corner—

Two correctional officers patrolling the streets at night.

Shawshank Rogers is not a resident of the lower city, even though they would not question such a kind middle-aged gentleman, but if they see his face tonight, and meet him again and again in the missionary process in the future...

It is conceivable that it will definitely be suspected.

Therefore, Sean's current principle is to keep an absolute low profile, not even letting the education officer see Shawshank's face even once.

So, before the two education officers turned the corner, Shawshank dodged into the alley, hiding his figure behind the raised corner.

He held his breath, as if he didn't exist.

Soon, two officers in black uniforms with diamond-shaped shield logos passed by...

"The less you meet them, the better," Shawshank continued walking along the alley, passing through from the other side, "after all, there will definitely be unavoidable situations...

"In short, it is to leave an impression on them as little as possible."

After calming down his slightly accelerated heartbeat, Shawshank continued to walk leisurely—he chose the eastern part of the lower city today, which is quite a distance from the northwest corner where he visited yesterday.

Soon, at the end of the street, he saw a coffee shop that was still open—Rebecca's Corner Coffee.

Following some hidden guidance, Shawshank pushed the door open and entered.

He picked a seat by the window and asked for a cup of hot milk. He just took off his coat and was about to sit down when he saw a woman in a sweater sitting beside him with a sad face.

Her eyes had deep dark circles, and a pair of mitts absently turned a glass on a china plate...

Mr. Rogers sighed ~lightnovelpub.net~ with a warm smile on his face, and sat closer to the woman: "It's another peaceful night, isn't it?"

The woman obviously had something on her mind, she raised her helpless eyes, and saw the kind eyes of Shawshank Rogers.

When starting a new conversation, what Mr. Rogers didn't know was that just about four kilometers away, Henry Hart, who had enjoyed a good day all day, had a guest.

It was Henry Hart's friend, the tall Raymond.

He saw a completely new Hart today, and felt that his old friend radiated a peaceful and happy light...

So, he asked curiously.

The cautious Henry Hart chose to keep this secret during the day when there were many people watching.

When night fell, he brought his good friend Raymond home, took out the "Long Poems on the Night Wind" left by Mr. Rogers, and began to tell the story of a lady...