Nightwatcher

"What should we do? The thirty taels of silver for the three of us to play tea is gone. Even if we sleep with the maid in this yard, the three of us will have to spend several taels." Second Uncle Xu was in a hurry. Looking at his son:

"Farewell, think of a way."

Is this a question of money? This is a question that has not been covered by any news. The two brothers complained wildly in their hearts.

Xu Nian looked at his father: "What can I do? It's just a matter of luck. My eldest brother and I came as soon as we came. Doesn't father know himself well?"

His tone was a little heavy, indicating that he was also anxious.

This wave is really a loss of money, but the second thing is that the news has not been found out. Looking at Mr. Zhao who was taken away by the maidservant, Xu Qi'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Huakui: Shuangjue of Qin and Shi.

He immediately asked for pen, ink and rice paper from the maid serving the guests.

Cleared a space on the table and pulled Xu Xinnian aside: "Farewell, you write for me."

Xu Nian didn't hesitate, and sat upright in tacit understanding, holding the pen.

Xu Qi'an spoke quickly, and read: "All the fragrances shake off Du Xuanyan, occupying all the charm to Xiaoyuan."

Xu Xinnian's brushstrokes are as fast as flying, and he writes cursive script with a strong character.

Xu Qi'an continued to read: "Sparse shadows slant horizontally, the water is clear and shallow, and the dark fragrance floats in the moon and dusk."

Xu Nian didn't start writing. He froze, as if petrified, and muttered to himself, repeating the next two sentences.

"Write quickly!" Xu Qi'an pushed him.

Xu Erlang woke up like a dream, and quickly finished writing with a sullen face.

Xu Qi'an tore away the rice paper, summoned a maidservant, and said: "Give this poem to Lady Fuxiang, and then you can do it, and say that Yang is waiting here."

The maid was not very happy, but after Xu Qi'an stuffed her with a handful of broken silver, she trotted away immediately.

In the master bedroom, four folded screens block the bathtub, and the steam lingers on the roof beams.

The floating fragrance is soaked in the hot water full of rose petals, the black hair is high, the neck is white and slender, the shoulders and chest are covered with water drops, reflecting the charming light in the candlelight.

Her skin is as smooth as fat, she looks like a beautiful woman.

A personal maid served by the tub, praised Fu Xiang's skin, and said: "Mr. Zhao is already waiting in the tea room next door. The guests outside said that he is a scholar of the Imperial College."

"It's so rare for a scholar." Fu Xiang smiled, gently stirred the water, and said, "But with Mr. Zhao's talent, it's not a problem to get a Juren."

The servant girl laughed softly: "I knew that my wife likes this kind of talented son, like that annoying Zhou Li, who shows off his might just because of his father's official position.

"Mr. Zhao is very talented. I hope his lady treats him well. Maybe it will become a good story in the future. Women can also be famous in history."

"Even I make fun of it." Fu Xiang poked the girl's head with her finger, and sighed: "It's so difficult for a woman to want to be famous in history. How many scholars can't dream of it."

The door of the master bedroom was pushed open, and a servant girl came in, stood in the hall, and said crisply: "Lady, the guest named Yang outside asked the servant girl to send a poem."

Fu Xiang frowned, and the maid reprimanded: "There is no rule, my lady has already chosen Mr. Zhao, how can I change it, is it because I have taken advantage of others?"

The little maid bowed her head, not daring to talk back.

Fu Xiang said lightly: "Put it on the table, go out and tell the guests, Fu Xiang loves it."

The little maid let out a sigh of relief, put the rice paper on the table, and went out.

After bathing, Fuxiang put on a light gauze skirt, her graceful figure looming, her snow-white feet were bare, she came to the table and sat down.

"Go and invite Mr. Zhao to come in." She said, her eyes fell on the rice paper on the table, and she picked it up casually.

Her eyes froze suddenly, staring at the rice paper bewilderedly.

"Floating Fragrance Presented by Yingmei Xiaoge"

All the fangs shake off Du Xuanyan, taking all the charm to Xiaoyuan.

Sparse shadows and slanting water, clear and shallow water, dark fragrance floating in moon dusk.

The servant girl walked to the door and was about to open it to invite Mr. Zhao, when she suddenly heard the lady's sharp voice behind her: "Wait!"

Turning around to look, the lady was holding the rice paper tightly in her hand, trembling slightly, her face was strange like never before.

That was an emotion that the servant girl had never seen on her face.

The voice of the lady Huakui was urgent and sharp: "Who, who sent the poem, which son, tell me quickly!!"

The servant girl was startled, and mumbled, "It seems that the surname is Yang."

The oiran lady rushed to the door desperately.

"My lady, how can you go out with your appearance like this, my lady?" The servant girl hugged tightly.

"Let me go, let me go quickly." Fu Xiang blushed anxiously, "Don't let that young master go, chase him back quickly."

The servant girl couldn't figure it out. It was just a poem, but it caused the lady to lose her composure like never before. She completely ignored the knowledgeable, polite and gentle in the past.

"My lady, please be safe and don't be impatient. This servant will go immediately to invite the son who wrote the poem."

After the maid left, the Oiran lady sat at the table in disheveled clothes, staring at the paper in her hand in a daze.

"Sparse shadows, horizontal slanting, clear and shallow water, dark fragrance floating, moon dusk gift floating fragrance, gift floating fragrance"

Big tears rolled down her pretty face, and she lay down on the table and began to cry.

In the front hall, some of the guests left, while others did not.

After the tea round, the unsuccessful guests have two choices: one, go to another courtyard to continue the next game. Second, if you are overwhelmed with alcohol and tired, you can choose the maids here to sleep with you.

"This Fuxiang girl doesn't buy your account." Xu Pingzhi looked at his nephew with anxiety on his brows.

The poem was sent over, but in return was a light sentence.

Obviously, Xu Qi'an's poem did not impress the oiran.

Xu Nian sneered: "How can a mere woman understand the essence of poetry?"

Xu Pingzhi stared at his son and asked, "Is that poem by Ning Yan just now excellent?"

The proud Xu Erlang was convinced of his eldest brother in the way of poetry, and sighed: "Excellent, excellent."

Xu Dalang is also puzzled, he has absolute confidence in this poem.

This Qilu is very famous, very big. Especially the last two sentences are known as the pinnacle of Yongmei.

At that time, under the loneliness and frost, the two lines of poems became famous through the ages—these two lines of poems were spoken of.

The two poems have become famous throughout the ages, what a high evaluation.

"Dark Fragrance" and "Sparse Shadow" have even become the titles of poems, which shows the status of this poem among ancient literati.

Celebrities such as Ouyang Xiu and Sima Guang all gave high marks to these two poems.

And the author of this Qilu poem is also famous for this poem through the ages Well, Xu Qi'an forgot who the author was.

This is impossible, she would reject me for no reason. If this poem was given to the two great scholars of Yunlu Academy, they would raise me as their own son. Xu Qi'an thought of a possibility. It's a show.

Stirring fame and selling people's designs is just a person with little culture.

But there is a paradox here, if the Floating Fragrance Oiran is a vase designed by a seller, it is impossible for her to be recognized by literati.

Compared with the hype and sales of the artists of the previous life, the oirans of this era also have similar operations, but the latter has real skills.

The reason is simple, the ancient scholars were not as easy to fool as the young people in the later generations.

Frowning, the big maid who served beside Fuxiang walked quickly in small steps, her eyes were a little anxious to search the crowd, after seeing Xu Qi'an, her expression relaxed, and she came in slow steps, Fu With a blessed body, Jiao Didi said:

"Young Master Yang, is it your poem?"

The three masters of the Xu family looked at each other, relieved.

"It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded.

The servant girl smiled and became more respectful. She lowered her eyebrows and said softly, "My wife is here to invite you."

Xu Qi'an nodded calmly, followed behind the maid, and walked towards the master bedroom on the other side of the attic.

This scene also aroused the ideas of the guests who planned to stay in the "Shadow Plum Pavilion" and whispered to each other.

"Hey, why did he follow in?"

"This, this is against the rules, how do you get in with two people?"

"The maid seemed to be talking about poetry just now, and I happened to see what he wrote with that handsome little brother."

A middle-aged man dressed as a rich man walked up to Xu Xinian and Xu Pingzhi, cupped his hands and said, "You two, I don't know what Miss Fuxiang means? How did that brother come in just now? What poem did you write?"

PS: Gentlemen, my face is so itchy, I need a recommendation ticket and fan it hard︿(￣︶￣)︿