Demon Lord 3

I'm at my uncle's place, and every time I feel like I'm my true self, not a puppet, not someone who can be manipulated by others. I'm a very powerful person. Here, I don't have to think about those things and can always experience this beautiful life. The wind can blow slowly, and it can blow the way I imagine it. The sun can rise and set at the time I expect. It can instantly turn into day when I don't want it to be night, and it can turn into sunny when I don't want dark clouds. Whether it's haze or rain, it can be firmly blocked by the apple tree. I can see lush leaves and the cool evening breeze, but I can't see those bad moods. But when I go out, I find that everything has changed. This is my safe haven, and I have to face real life. I don't think life is so cruel. At least I still have a gentle safe haven in my heart. I imagined that everything was fake, and this place was just my imagination. But when I got here, I found it was real. It's all real. There are really people who treat me well, not just my own random assumptions. When I sat on the swing, I found that it was exactly as I imagined. The feeling of sitting on the swing It was truly wonderful. I could look around, rest my feet, run freely. No one could stop me, no one could restrain me. I didn't need to understand rules or etiquette. I could be carefree. I could run wild with my uncle, doing whatever I had always dreamed of. No one would say anything, no one would blame me. It seemed like I could play forever, no one could stop me. Finally, a call woke me. I had been lost in a dream again, unable to extricate myself, but now I was truly brought back to reality. My uncle spoke to me in a strange tone, a tone I had never heard before. It was a calm, competent voice. I had always thought my uncle was stupid, and his words were foolish. What had happened? My uncle had become so smart. Had he been pretending all this time? It's exactly what I was thinking. My uncle has been pretending all these years. If he hadn't, he might not be alive today. I asked him why he kept playing dumb, and he told me it was just a way of living. If he could stay by my side this way, he'd rather play dumb forever. I asked him if he didn't have a life he wanted? He could fight for it himself, he could have the life he wanted. Why did he have to dwell on it all the time? What's the big deal here? There's just an apple tree to watch over? There's even a swing. The place isn't big, and it's always been locked up. Now it's free, but before that, it was caged for a while! But my uncle said, in life, none of this matters. Even if he's caged for life, what's the harm? As long as there's someone who thinks of him, who misses him, isn't that enough? What's the point of traveling all his life? After all these years, when he returns home, no one recognizes him, no one thinks of him, no one thinks of him, no one thinks he's doing well. Who knows, he might even be criticized outside! I was speechless and could only continue to talk according to his words. I didn't understand who he was pretending to be stupid for, was it for me, my father, or other people, but he said that it was for himself. When others knew that he was possessed by the devil, they all wanted to kill him. If he didn't play dumb, my father would have no other way to save him. But he said that he had no consciousness and continued to play dumb. He and I maintained a good relationship, so others would think that he could remain rational. But after I left, he was often unable to extricate himself and could not remain rational. My father wanted to take his name several times, and he wanted to give up. But when I came to him with my paintings to play with him again, he thought that as long as he saw the apple tree, he would not have the attack. As long as he saw the big apples on the apple tree, as long as he saw my paintings, as long as he saw my smiling face, he would not let the devil run out of his body. He fought again and again, and year after year, the devil gradually decreased, but his body had collapsed.