Be sure to cover the trumpet tightly.

Chapter 5
Royal Palace.

The dormitory of the concubine.

After the silence, there was a "puchi" chuckle from behind the golden gauze curtain.

Zhou Xiaoyu's pretty face was covered with frost.

Her delicate cheeks were blushing, of course not from embarrassment, but from anger.

She never expected that such a bastard would appear out of nowhere to smear people's innocence when she faked her death.

"...Xiao Yu, if I didn't know everything about you, I would have believed what this guy said. After all, this infatuated look full of tears is quite convincing..."

The laughter made Zhou Xiaoyu's complexion stiff.

"Concubine Tai, before I leave, I want to do one more thing!" Zhou Xiaoyu shouted with a cold pretty face, staring at Gu Jing.

"Xiao Yu, have you forgotten what I told you? Be calm and don't be rash."

"...If you can't hold your breath even on this matter, then I need to reconsider this mission..."

Behind the golden gauze curtain, the laughter disappeared.

Hearing these words, Zhou Xiaoyu's body froze, and after a while, he quickly calmed down the anger in his heart, and then bowed and said:
"This subordinate has lost his composure, please forgive me..."

"Get up, how can I really punish you?"

"Your mother is my elder sister. According to seniority, you should call me aunt."

"...But you have always been strong, and you have always been strict with etiquette. You are asked to do that thing this time, and you don't know what's going on..."

Listening to the words behind the gauze curtain, Zhou Xiaoyu pursed her thin lips, and said, "Everything is voluntary!"

"...Maybe it's not a disaster, but a blessing."

"Auntie, don't worry!"

"Hmph." There was a chuckle from behind the gauze curtain, and he said again: "That's true, maybe it's your luck."

"Go ahead and see what purpose this Chen Xiaoer has."

"Yes!"

Zhou Xiaoyu's face returned to calm.

However, the white palm that was straddling the long sword at his waist was tightly grasped.

He stared at Chen Xiaoer in the ancient mirror without blinking.As if he wanted to engrave this bastard who ruined his reputation in his mind.

Zhou Mansion, above the mourning hall——

Chen Xiaoer casually tore off a pair of elegiac couplets that said, "Life will last forever, and people will go to Fan Changcun", turned his back to everyone, and said:
"It's better not to have anything without sincerity..."

Looking at the elegiac couplet that was pulled to the ground, Zhou Hongyu's face was also a bit ugly.

At the end of life, virtue is always there, but people go to Fan Changcun?
Is this for my daughter?Everyone knew that Zhou Xiaoyu had fallen into the abyss with no bones left.

It belongs to the real premature death, writing such a mindless elegiac couplet, isn't this humiliating him sincerely?Blaspheme the dead?
But soon, as if he thought of something, Zhou Hongyu silently suppressed his anger.

Looking at the elegiac couplet that was torn off by Chen Xiaoer on the ground, the dignitaries only frowned slightly before regaining their composure.

Looks like it's none of your business...

"Stab!"

"Stab, stab!"

After a while, Chen Xiaoer tore up all the elegiac couplets.After that, Chen Xiaoer didn't look back, but said:
"Bring some pens and paper, please..."

Hearing this, Zhou Hongyu seemed to have seen Chen Xiaoer's plan, and immediately winked at the servant.

A group of servants immediately brought pens and paper and stood behind Chen Xiaoer.

Standing in front of the row of wreaths, Chen Xiaoer's eyes were tightly closed, but he was silently thinking:

"...to take this opportunity to establish a relationship with the Zhou family, so as to pave the way for the next thing to do..."

Thinking of this, Chen Xiaoer opened his eyes and said, "Xiaoyu, I'm late..."

The voice is hoarse and deep.

...A good actor, even a back view, can instantly form a self-centered aura.

Let your emotions affect everyone...

An invisible sadness emanated from Chen Xiaoer's body, and immediately infected many people present.

Some sentimental rich ladies had red pupils, sore noses, and foggy eye sockets in an instant...

To see, to hear, to feel—

At this moment, Chen Xiaoer's mind echoed the words of a young director who often talked about the three elements of acting:

Listen carefully, each sound has a different mood!
Observe with your heart, understand every expression, every thing, every person's inner thoughts!

finally--

Take everything you listen to and observe!
Use your understanding to express, transform yourself into the protagonist, and truly express it!

And you must believe that you are him—

At this moment, he is the infatuated person who once made a private decision with Zhou Xiaoyu for life, promised each other, but separated from each other.

"It's been a few years since I left, I don't want to see you again, it's a farewell..."

A sigh.

Chen Xiaoer swung his pen like flying!
The pen is down, the first couplet has been completed.

The servant on the side didn't dare to neglect, and immediately cut the white paper with scissors, and hung it up in front of everyone.

"...The desolate farewell and the two should be the same, and the most unbearable resentment is Yue Mingzhong!" Someone read it softly.

There are many people who practice Confucianism and are proficient in poetry, not to mention others, but Chen Changshou is said to be the fourth grade of Confucianism and Taoism.

Some Confucianism cultivators trembled slightly after seeing this sentence.

In just two sentences, it is so desolate and resentful after parting that it is unbearable to bear!
Some ladies who are sentimental and good at poetry have tears in their eyes at this time.

They were all infected by Chen Xiaoer's sadness.

While the crowd of dignitaries were horrified, they hurriedly savored the endless lingering sadness...

Swish!
Another couplet completed!
The servants of the Zhou family quickly hung it up, and someone immediately read aloud: "In the past, the sea was too difficult to be water, except that Wushan is not a cloud."

...Since I have seen the sea, the mountains, and the clouds, even if the mountains and rivers in this world are like flowers and brocades, I can't see them.

"...my heart does not compete with flowers, every inch of lovesickness and inch of ashes!" All my love for you has turned into lovesickness, dripping into ashes.

"..."

"One inch of love and thousands of thoughts...

Lovesickness and meet each other when will we know... If the two loves last for a long time... It's just a shadow of the world...

The sky is not old, the love is endless..."

Chen Xiaoer wrote vigorously, the ink splattered, and the fragrance of the ink stained his clothes, but he didn't care.

At first, only two servants were in charge of hanging the couplets, and then more and more servants came and went.

The funeral flags danced above the mourning hall, and everyone waited with their eyes wide open, looking at the young man with the dancing pen in disbelief.

All the Confucianism cultivators were trembling all over, and the top of their heads were green.

Damn!Has anyone ever written an elegiac couplet like this? ! !
hiss!However, the artistic conception of this poem is so strong that we cannot extricate ourselves!
Although these are just a few words in the poems, they also bring together the youthful spirit in their chests, and there is a hidden breakthrough.

Pen stop!

When everyone thought he was going to stop, Chen Xiaoer suddenly stretched out his hand to the side and shouted:
"liquor!"

The servants at the side didn't dare to be negligent, and were about to pour the wine, but Chen Xiaoer snatched it away, raised his head and poured it.

The pen dances again...

Swipe the pen again and again, open and close, endlessly.

From the implicit and lingering sadness at the beginning, it has turned into the wildness of "this hatred has nothing to do with the wind and the moon... whoever complains about it".

Chen Xiaoer brought out all the lovesickness and misery in his mind through the ages.

The mourning flags in the hall rattled, as if responding to Chen Xiaoer's infatuation.

"...In ancient times, there were Li Taibai's hundred poems about fighting wine, and now there are my Chen Xiaoer's hundred poems about drinking and lovesickness. Emmm, although they are all half sentences, they are not bad. Who can remember the whole poem when I play on the spot..."

"It's too late to go too far. I'm here today, and the plan is almost done. After this, I can be regarded as a deep impression on the Zhou family..."

While Chen Xiaoer was copying the poem, he was thinking about it.

Fortunately, they are all important lines, if he copied the whole poem, he would never think of so many.

A group of dignitaries and dignitaries stood behind Chen Xiaoer, watching him scribble his pen and ink, with disbelief written all over his face.

Especially those who practice Confucianism, their expressions are the most exaggerated.

Some were beating their chests and feet, some were panting and swaying, some were dancing, and some were losing their composure and crying...

From the moment the first line of the poem appeared, they had already been drawn by the artistic conception in their chests.

Yet the hateful thing is, this poem, it is incomplete!
This can kill your life!
It's not that they didn't try to complete it in their hearts, but the good sentences they often think of are still incompatible with poetry.

For a while, I couldn't get up and down, and that feeling was extremely uncomfortable.

Even Chen Changshou, a fourth-rank Confucian and Taoist master, had a constipated look on his face at this time, with sweat dripping from his forehead, and his body was shaking.

In the end, I really couldn't match the suitable poems, so I finally gave up!
Some masters of fourth-grade Confucianism also know that they cannot be forced, so they no longer insist, thinking of coming to ask for advice in the future.

And those Confucian scholars below the fourth rank will be miserable.

The green air was fluttering in the head, the whole person was dizzy, fell into all kinds of illusions, and was intoxicated in the poetry and couldn't extricate himself.

If it weren't for the Buddha photos of the elders around me, I'm afraid something would have happened long ago.

After taking a sip of wine, Chen Xiaoer finally stopped writing!

　The boss who is reading the book, give a feedback~~~
　　
　
(End of this chapter)