Chapter 53
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"What can we do? The three of us have lost thirty taels of silver in the tea circle. Even if we want to find the maid in the courtyard to sleep with us, we'll have to spend several taels." Xu Er Shu was in a hurry. He felt that as soon as he returned to the pre liberation period, he frowned and looked at his son:
"farewell to the old days, and think about something quickly."
is this money problem? What make complaints about it?
Xu Xinnian looked at his father: "what can I do? It's just a matter of luck. My elder brother and I came here. Does my father have no self-knowledge?"
His tone is a little heavy, which means that he is also anxious.
This wave is really blood loss... Silver is the second, the key is that the news has not been found out... Looking at the young master Zhao who was led away by his maid, Xu Qi'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Huakui: Qin Shi Shuangjue.
He immediately asked for ink and rice paper from the maid who served the guests.
Clear out a piece of space on the desk, a pulled Xu new year: "farewell to the old, you write for me."
Xu new year did not hesitate, tacit understanding of the upright sitting, holding a pen.
Xu Qi'an spoke very fast and read: "all the flowers are rocking down, and the only one is Xuanyan. They occupy all the amorous feelings in the garden."
Xu new year's brush like flying, writing the style of cursive.
Xu Qi'an continued to read: "thin shadow horizontal slant, water shallow, dark fragrance floating on dusk."
Xu new year did not start writing, he was stunned, as if petrified, murmured to himself to repeat the last two sentences.
"Write Xu Qi'an gave him a push.
Xu Erlang woke up from a dream and finished his writing with a straight face.
Xu Qi'an took away the Xuan paper and called in the maidservant, saying: "you give this poem to Fu Xiang Niang, and then you can do it. He said that Yang is waiting here."
The maidservant was not very happy, but after Xu Qian stuffed her with a handful of broken silver, she trotted away immediately.
...
in the master bedroom, four stacks of screens block the bathtub, and the steam curls around the roof beams.
Floating incense bubble in the hot water full of rose petals, green silk high pull, neck yingbai slender, incense shoulders and chest hanging beads, in the candlelight reflects the charm of the light.
Her skin is as smooth as grease. She looks like a jade.
A maid who was close to her was waiting at the edge of the bath bucket. While praising Fu Xiang's skin, she said: "Mr. Zhao has been waiting in the teahouse next door. The guests outside said that he is a scholar of the Imperial College."
"What's so strange about a scholar?" Fuxiang said with a smile, gently plucking the water. "But with the talent of Mr. Zhao, it's no problem to get a Ju."
The servant girl said with a low smile: "I know that the lady likes this kind of talented childe. Like that annoying Zhou Li, she is not proud of her father's official position.
"That young master Zhao is brilliant. I hope you will treat him well. Maybe it will be a good story in the future. Women can also be famous in history. "
"Even I make fun of..." Fuxiang poked the maid's head with her finger and sighed: "how difficult it is for a woman to be famous in history. What many scholars can't expect. "
The door of the master bedroom was pushed open. A maid came in and stood in the hall. She said in a crisp voice, "lady, the guest named Yang outside asked the maid to send a poem."
Fu Xiang frowned, and the servant girl scolded: "if you have no rules, your mother has already chosen Mr. Zhao. How can you change it? Have you accepted other people's benefits?"
The little maid bowed her head and didn't dare to talk back.
Floating incense light way: "put it on the table, go out to tell the guests, floating incense heart."
The little maid felt relieved, "ah," put the rice paper on the table and went out.
After bathing, Fuxiang put on a light gauze skirt, graceful posture looming, with snow-white feet, came to the table and sat down.
"Go and invite Mr. Zhao in." She said, her eyes fell on the rice paper on the table and picked it up.
Her eyes suddenly solidified, looking at Xuan paper.
"A gift of fragrance from Yingmei Pavilion"
all the fragrant flowers are swaying away, and they are all in the garden.
Thin shadow horizontal oblique, clear water, fragrance floating on the evening.
The servant girl went to the door and was about to open the door to invite Mr. Zhao. Suddenly, she heard the woman's shrill voice: "wait a minute!"
Looking back, the lady was holding the rice paper in her hand, trembling slightly, and her face was strange.
That is the emotion that the servant girl has never seen on her face.
Huakui lady's voice is urgent and sharp: "who, who sent the poem, which childe, you say it quickly!"
The servant girl was startled and muttered: "it's like Yang..."
lady Huakui rushed to the door regardless of everything.
"Niang Zi, Niang Zi... How can you go out like this? You can't..." the servant girl hugged her.
"You let me go, let me go." Fu Xiang's face is red and his ears are red. "Don't let the young man go. Come back quickly."
The servant girl couldn't understand it. It was just a poem, which made her lose her manners as never before. In the past, she was knowledgeable, reasonable and gentle, and totally ignored it."Lady, don't be impatient. I'll go at once to invite the young man who wrote the poem."
After the maid left, Huakui was sitting at the table, looking at the paper in her hand in a trance.
"The shadow is slanting, the water is clear, the fragrance is floating, and the moon is at dusk..."
her pretty face is rolling down big tears, and she is crying on the table.
...
in the front hall, some of the guests left, while others did not.
After the tea party, the unsuccessful guests have two choices: one is to go to another courtyard to continue the next one. 2、 If you are too drunk and tired, you can choose the maid here.
"This girl Fuxiang won't pay for you." Xu Pingzhi looks at his nephew with anxiety between his eyebrows.
The poem was sent, but in exchange for a light sentence.
Obviously, Xu Qi'an's poems did not move Hua Kui.
Xu new year sneered: "just a woman, how to understand the essence of poetry."
Staring at his son, Xu Pingzhi asked, "is the poem of Ning Yan just excellent?"
In the way of poetry, the arrogant Xu Erlang was convinced of his elder brother and sighed: "excellent, excellent."
Xu Dalang is also puzzled. He has absolute confidence in this poem.
This poem is very famous, very famous. In particular, the last two sentences are praised as the acme of chanting plum.
At that time, under the loneliness and frost, two poems became the eternal name.
Two lines of poetry have become the eternal name, which is highly praised.
It can be seen that the position of this poem among the ancient literati.
Ouyang Xiu, Sima Guang and other celebrities have given high marks to these two poems.
And the author of this poem has been famous for thousands of years. Well, who is the author? Xu Qi'an has forgotten.
It's impossible. She has no reason to refuse me... If this poem is given to the two great Confucians of Yunlu academy, they can raise me as their own son... Xu Qi'an thought of a possibility that this so-called Huakui, who is unique in both poetry and piano, is in fact a flowery person.
It's just selling people's names. In essence, he's a man with no culture.
But there is a paradox here. If Fuxiang Huakui is a vase set by people, she can't be recognized by scholars.
Compared with the previous artists' hype, Huakui of this era has similar operation, but the latter has real ability.
The reason is very simple, the ancient scholars are not as easy to cheat as the younger generation.
When she was sad, the big servant girl who was waiting for Fu Xiang came with small steps and looked anxiously in the crowd. When she saw Xu Qi'an, she looked relaxed and came with lotus steps. She blessed her body and said, "young master Yang, is it your poem?"
The three Xus looked at each other in relief.
"It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded.
The servant girl smile, more respectful, low brow, soft voice: "my wife please."
Xu Qi'an nodded calmly, followed the servant girl and walked towards the master bedroom on the other side of the attic.
This scene also caused the idea of staying in "Yingmei Pavilion" guests, whispering.
"Why, he followed me in."
"It's, it's not in line with the rules. How can we get in?"
"It seems that the girl and I just saw what the pretty brother wrote."
A middle-aged man dressed up as a rich man walked up to Xu Xinnian and Xu Pingzhi and said, "you two, I don't know what Miss Fuxiang means? How did you get in just now? What poems did you write? "
PS: old man, his face is itchy, and he needs a recommendation ticket to give him a fan
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
"What can we do? The three of us have lost thirty taels of silver in the tea circle. Even if we want to find the maid in the courtyard to sleep with us, we'll have to spend several taels." Xu Er Shu was in a hurry. He felt that as soon as he returned to the pre liberation period, he frowned and looked at his son:
"farewell to the old days, and think about something quickly."
is this money problem? What make complaints about it?
Xu Xinnian looked at his father: "what can I do? It's just a matter of luck. My elder brother and I came here. Does my father have no self-knowledge?"
His tone is a little heavy, which means that he is also anxious.
This wave is really blood loss... Silver is the second, the key is that the news has not been found out... Looking at the young master Zhao who was led away by his maid, Xu Qi'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Huakui: Qin Shi Shuangjue.
He immediately asked for ink and rice paper from the maid who served the guests.
Clear out a piece of space on the desk, a pulled Xu new year: "farewell to the old, you write for me."
Xu new year did not hesitate, tacit understanding of the upright sitting, holding a pen.
Xu Qi'an spoke very fast and read: "all the flowers are rocking down, and the only one is Xuanyan. They occupy all the amorous feelings in the garden."
Xu new year's brush like flying, writing the style of cursive.
Xu Qi'an continued to read: "thin shadow horizontal slant, water shallow, dark fragrance floating on dusk."
Xu new year did not start writing, he was stunned, as if petrified, murmured to himself to repeat the last two sentences.
"Write Xu Qi'an gave him a push.
Xu Erlang woke up from a dream and finished his writing with a straight face.
Xu Qi'an took away the Xuan paper and called in the maidservant, saying: "you give this poem to Fu Xiang Niang, and then you can do it. He said that Yang is waiting here."
The maidservant was not very happy, but after Xu Qian stuffed her with a handful of broken silver, she trotted away immediately.
...
in the master bedroom, four stacks of screens block the bathtub, and the steam curls around the roof beams.
Floating incense bubble in the hot water full of rose petals, green silk high pull, neck yingbai slender, incense shoulders and chest hanging beads, in the candlelight reflects the charm of the light.
Her skin is as smooth as grease. She looks like a jade.
A maid who was close to her was waiting at the edge of the bath bucket. While praising Fu Xiang's skin, she said: "Mr. Zhao has been waiting in the teahouse next door. The guests outside said that he is a scholar of the Imperial College."
"What's so strange about a scholar?" Fuxiang said with a smile, gently plucking the water. "But with the talent of Mr. Zhao, it's no problem to get a Ju."
The servant girl said with a low smile: "I know that the lady likes this kind of talented childe. Like that annoying Zhou Li, she is not proud of her father's official position.
"That young master Zhao is brilliant. I hope you will treat him well. Maybe it will be a good story in the future. Women can also be famous in history. "
"Even I make fun of..." Fuxiang poked the maid's head with her finger and sighed: "how difficult it is for a woman to be famous in history. What many scholars can't expect. "
The door of the master bedroom was pushed open. A maid came in and stood in the hall. She said in a crisp voice, "lady, the guest named Yang outside asked the maid to send a poem."
Fu Xiang frowned, and the servant girl scolded: "if you have no rules, your mother has already chosen Mr. Zhao. How can you change it? Have you accepted other people's benefits?"
The little maid bowed her head and didn't dare to talk back.
Floating incense light way: "put it on the table, go out to tell the guests, floating incense heart."
The little maid felt relieved, "ah," put the rice paper on the table and went out.
After bathing, Fuxiang put on a light gauze skirt, graceful posture looming, with snow-white feet, came to the table and sat down.
"Go and invite Mr. Zhao in." She said, her eyes fell on the rice paper on the table and picked it up.
Her eyes suddenly solidified, looking at Xuan paper.
"A gift of fragrance from Yingmei Pavilion"
all the fragrant flowers are swaying away, and they are all in the garden.
Thin shadow horizontal oblique, clear water, fragrance floating on the evening.
The servant girl went to the door and was about to open the door to invite Mr. Zhao. Suddenly, she heard the woman's shrill voice: "wait a minute!"
Looking back, the lady was holding the rice paper in her hand, trembling slightly, and her face was strange.
That is the emotion that the servant girl has never seen on her face.
Huakui lady's voice is urgent and sharp: "who, who sent the poem, which childe, you say it quickly!"
The servant girl was startled and muttered: "it's like Yang..."
lady Huakui rushed to the door regardless of everything.
"Niang Zi, Niang Zi... How can you go out like this? You can't..." the servant girl hugged her.
"You let me go, let me go." Fu Xiang's face is red and his ears are red. "Don't let the young man go. Come back quickly."
The servant girl couldn't understand it. It was just a poem, which made her lose her manners as never before. In the past, she was knowledgeable, reasonable and gentle, and totally ignored it."Lady, don't be impatient. I'll go at once to invite the young man who wrote the poem."
After the maid left, Huakui was sitting at the table, looking at the paper in her hand in a trance.
"The shadow is slanting, the water is clear, the fragrance is floating, and the moon is at dusk..."
her pretty face is rolling down big tears, and she is crying on the table.
...
in the front hall, some of the guests left, while others did not.
After the tea party, the unsuccessful guests have two choices: one is to go to another courtyard to continue the next one. 2、 If you are too drunk and tired, you can choose the maid here.
"This girl Fuxiang won't pay for you." Xu Pingzhi looks at his nephew with anxiety between his eyebrows.
The poem was sent, but in exchange for a light sentence.
Obviously, Xu Qi'an's poems did not move Hua Kui.
Xu new year sneered: "just a woman, how to understand the essence of poetry."
Staring at his son, Xu Pingzhi asked, "is the poem of Ning Yan just excellent?"
In the way of poetry, the arrogant Xu Erlang was convinced of his elder brother and sighed: "excellent, excellent."
Xu Dalang is also puzzled. He has absolute confidence in this poem.
This poem is very famous, very famous. In particular, the last two sentences are praised as the acme of chanting plum.
At that time, under the loneliness and frost, two poems became the eternal name.
Two lines of poetry have become the eternal name, which is highly praised.
It can be seen that the position of this poem among the ancient literati.
Ouyang Xiu, Sima Guang and other celebrities have given high marks to these two poems.
And the author of this poem has been famous for thousands of years. Well, who is the author? Xu Qi'an has forgotten.
It's impossible. She has no reason to refuse me... If this poem is given to the two great Confucians of Yunlu academy, they can raise me as their own son... Xu Qi'an thought of a possibility that this so-called Huakui, who is unique in both poetry and piano, is in fact a flowery person.
It's just selling people's names. In essence, he's a man with no culture.
But there is a paradox here. If Fuxiang Huakui is a vase set by people, she can't be recognized by scholars.
Compared with the previous artists' hype, Huakui of this era has similar operation, but the latter has real ability.
The reason is very simple, the ancient scholars are not as easy to cheat as the younger generation.
When she was sad, the big servant girl who was waiting for Fu Xiang came with small steps and looked anxiously in the crowd. When she saw Xu Qi'an, she looked relaxed and came with lotus steps. She blessed her body and said, "young master Yang, is it your poem?"
The three Xus looked at each other in relief.
"It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded.
The servant girl smile, more respectful, low brow, soft voice: "my wife please."
Xu Qi'an nodded calmly, followed the servant girl and walked towards the master bedroom on the other side of the attic.
This scene also caused the idea of staying in "Yingmei Pavilion" guests, whispering.
"Why, he followed me in."
"It's, it's not in line with the rules. How can we get in?"
"It seems that the girl and I just saw what the pretty brother wrote."
A middle-aged man dressed up as a rich man walked up to Xu Xinnian and Xu Pingzhi and said, "you two, I don't know what Miss Fuxiang means? How did you get in just now? What poems did you write? "
PS: old man, his face is itchy, and he needs a recommendation ticket to give him a fan
"What can we do? The three of us have lost thirty taels of silver in the tea circle. Even if we want to find the maid in the courtyard to sleep with us, we'll have to spend several taels." Xu Er Shu was in a hurry. He felt that as soon as he returned to the pre liberation period, he frowned and looked at his son: "farewell to the old days, and think about something quickly." is this money problem? What make complaints about it? Xu Xinnian looked at his father: "what can I do? It's just a matter of luck. My elder brother and I came here. Does my father have no self-knowledge?" His tone is a little heavy, which means that he is also anxious. This wave is really blood loss... Silver is the second, the key is that the news has not been found out... Looking at the young master Zhao who was led away by his maid, Xu Qi'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Huakui: Qin Shi Shuangjue. He immediately asked for ink and rice paper from the maid who served the guests. Clear out a piece of space on the desk, a pulled Xu new year: "farewell to the old, you write for me." Xu new year did not hesitate, tacit understanding of the upright sitting, holding a pen. Xu Qi'an spoke very fast and read: "all the flowers are rocking down, and the only one is Xuanyan. They occupy all the amorous feelings in the garden." Xu new year's brush like flying, writing the style of cursive. Xu Qi'an continued to read: "thin shadow horizontal slant, water shallow, dark fragrance floating on dusk." Xu new year did not start writing, he was stunned, as if petrified, murmured to himself to repeat the last two sentences. "Write Xu Qi'an gave him a push. Xu Erlang woke up from a dream and finished his writing with a straight face. Xu Qi'an took away the Xuan paper and called in the maidservant, saying: "you give this poem to Fu Xiang Niang, and then you can do it. He said that Yang is waiting here." The maidservant was not very happy, but after Xu Qian stuffed her with a handful of broken silver, she trotted away immediately. ... in the master bedroom, four stacks of screens block the bathtub, and the steam curls around the roof beams. Floating incense bubble in the hot water full of rose petals, green silk high pull, neck yingbai slender, incense shoulders and chest hanging beads, in the candlelight reflects the charm of the light. Her skin is as smooth as grease. She looks like a jade. A maid who was close to her was waiting at the edge of the bath bucket. While praising Fu Xiang's skin, she said: "Mr. Zhao has been waiting in the teahouse next door. The guests outside said that he is a scholar of the Imperial College." "What's so strange about a scholar?" Fuxiang said with a smile, gently plucking the water. "But with the talent of Mr. Zhao, it's no problem to get a Ju." The servant girl said with a low smile: "I know that the lady likes this kind of talented childe. Like that annoying Zhou Li, she is not proud of her father's official position. "That young master Zhao is brilliant. I hope you will treat him well. Maybe it will be a good story in the future. Women can also be famous in history. " "Even I make fun of..." Fuxiang poked the maid's head with her finger and sighed: "how difficult it is for a woman to be famous in history. What many scholars can't expect. " The door of the master bedroom was pushed open. A maid came in and stood in the hall. She said in a crisp voice, "lady, the guest named Yang outside asked the maid to send a poem." Fu Xiang frowned, and the servant girl scolded: "if you have no rules, your mother has already chosen Mr. Zhao. How can you change it? Have you accepted other people's benefits?" The little maid bowed her head and didn't dare to talk back. Floating incense light way: "put it on the table, go out to tell the guests, floating incense heart." The little maid felt relieved, "ah," put the rice paper on the table and went out. After bathing, Fuxiang put on a light gauze skirt, graceful posture looming, with snow-white feet, came to the table and sat down. "Go and invite Mr. Zhao in." She said, her eyes fell on the rice paper on the table and picked it up. Her eyes suddenly solidified, looking at Xuan paper. "A gift of fragrance from Yingmei Pavilion" all the fragrant flowers are swaying away, and they are all in the garden. Thin shadow horizontal oblique, clear water, fragrance floating on the evening. The servant girl went to the door and was about to open the door to invite Mr. Zhao. Suddenly, she heard the woman's shrill voice: "wait a minute!" Looking back, the lady was holding the rice paper in her hand, trembling slightly, and her face was strange. That is the emotion that the servant girl has never seen on her face. Huakui lady's voice is urgent and sharp: "who, who sent the poem, which childe, you say it quickly!" The servant girl was startled and muttered: "it's like Yang..." lady Huakui rushed to the door regardless of everything. "Niang Zi, Niang Zi... How can you go out like this? You can't..." the servant girl hugged her. "You let me go, let me go." Fu Xiang's face is red and his ears are red. "Don't let the young man go. Come back quickly." The servant girl couldn't understand it. It was just a poem, which made her lose her manners as never before. In the past, she was knowledgeable, reasonable and gentle, and totally ignored it."Lady, don't be impatient. I'll go at once to invite the young man who wrote the poem." After the maid left, Huakui was sitting at the table, looking at the paper in her hand in a trance. "The shadow is slanting, the water is clear, the fragrance is floating, and the moon is at dusk..." her pretty face is rolling down big tears, and she is crying on the table. ... in the front hall, some of the guests left, while others did not. After the tea party, the unsuccessful guests have two choices: one is to go to another courtyard to continue the next one. 2 If you are too drunk and tired, you can choose the maid here. "This girl Fuxiang won't pay for you." Xu Pingzhi looks at his nephew with anxiety between his eyebrows. The poem was sent, but in exchange for a light sentence. Obviously, Xu Qi'an's poems did not move Hua Kui. Xu new year sneered: "just a woman, how to understand the essence of poetry." Staring at his son, Xu Pingzhi asked, "is the poem of Ning Yan just excellent?" In the way of poetry, the arrogant Xu Erlang was convinced of his elder brother and sighed: "excellent, excellent." Xu Dalang is also puzzled. He has absolute confidence in this poem. This poem is very famous, very famous. In particular, the last two sentences are praised as the acme of chanting plum. At that time, under the loneliness and frost, two poems became the eternal name. Two lines of poetry have become the eternal name, which is highly praised. It can be seen that the position of this poem among the ancient literati. Ouyang Xiu, Sima Guang and other celebrities have given high marks to these two poems. And the author of this poem has been famous for thousands of years. Well, who is the author? Xu Qi'an has forgotten. It's impossible. She has no reason to refuse me... If this poem is given to the two great Confucians of Yunlu academy, they can raise me as their own son... Xu Qi'an thought of a possibility that this so-called Huakui, who is unique in both poetry and piano, is in fact a flowery person. It's just selling people's names. In essence, he's a man with no culture. But there is a paradox here. If Fuxiang Huakui is a vase set by people, she can't be recognized by scholars. Compared with the previous artists' hype, Huakui of this era has similar operation, but the latter has real ability. The reason is very simple, the ancient scholars are not as easy to cheat as the younger generation. When she was sad, the big servant girl who was waiting for Fu Xiang came with small steps and looked anxiously in the crowd. When she saw Xu Qi'an, she looked relaxed and came with lotus steps. She blessed her body and said, "young master Yang, is it your poem?" The three Xus looked at each other in relief. "It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded. The servant girl smile, more respectful, low brow, soft voice: "my wife please." Xu Qi'an nodded calmly, followed the servant girl and walked towards the master bedroom on the other side of the attic. This scene also caused the idea of staying in "Yingmei Pavilion" guests, whispering. "Why, he followed me in." "It's, it's not in line with the rules. How can we get in?" "It seems that the girl and I just saw what the pretty brother wrote." A middle-aged man dressed up as a rich man walked up to Xu Xinnian and Xu Pingzhi and said, "you two, I don't know what Miss Fuxiang means? How did you get in just now? What poems did you write? " PS: old man, his face is itchy, and he needs a recommendation ticket to give him a fan
