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Chapter fifty and six

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    ? Having seen the Qingliang Villa that Murong Hongwen is proud of, this plum village famous for its flowers is not so outstanding.

    Looking from a distance, there are indeed piles of red plums, but many of them grow too presumptuously and stick out of the wall, implying that they are not so friendly.

    Wen Qian and his party got out of the carriage, led by Mei Zhuang's servants, walked across the small stone bridge, and walked along the double corridor to the garden.

    The garden is on the other side of Xiaodong Lake, with a large water pavilion in the middle, evergreen osmanthus and oleander planted beside the path made of rockery, bright red plums are shaded in green, and there is vitality under the frost and snow.

    This place is probably the essence of Zhuangzi. The surrounding pavilions are full of tea tables and fruit snacks. There are a few carefully pruned small pots of bonsai along the way.  Scrutinize it carefully, and those who have scrutinized enough will stamp it aside and spread paper to grind it. Those who write poetry write poetry, and those who paint paint paint.

    ? At first glance, it is indeed poetic and picturesque, with a decent appearance.

    Although Wen Qian also loves elegant things and plays some ditties with gorgeous rhetoric and moving, but he has no interest in arty.  She is a typical layman watching the excitement, and she is more interested in cakes and tea than in admiring flowers and reciting poems.

    Today there is no wind, no snow, and no sunshine. The frost that formed on the flower branches yesterday has not yet melted, and the pressure is heavy on the tips.

    Yang Jin was stretching out his hand to flick the snow foam away, but someone threw a stone under his feet. Before he could raise his head, he could guess who it was, and when he turned his eyes, there was an unconscious smile on his lips.

    Wen Qian was standing in the stone pavilion waving to this side.

    "What do you do?"

    He jumped up the steps in a few steps and looked around first.

    There is a charcoal basin in the pavilion, and the wine is still warming on the stove in front of the table, so even though it is in a world of ice and snow, it does not feel cold.

    Wen Qian put her hands behind her back, as if she was hiding something, she tilted her head and winked at him mysteriously, "Guess what good thing I found."

    Yang Jin smiled, and shook his head truthfully: "Can't guess what it is?"

    As if he didn't have too much hope for him, Wen Qian immediately turned his hand back, and there was a pile of cakes as heavy as arhats stacked in the silver flower lotus leaf plate, which was colorful and very pleasing to the eye.

    "Look, are you surprised?" She put the plate on the stone table and lifted the jug at her feet, "I just tasted a piece, and it tastes good, but it's a little hard."

    The stone bench was covered with cushions, but it was still slightly cool. Wen Qian pushed the plate forward, "Osmanthus fragrans, mung beans, red beans, and sesame seeds, which one do you eat?"

    Yang Jin sat down beside her, and said, "Osmanthus fragrans where did you find it?"

    She picked one up and handed it over, opened the cup and filled it with hot wine, "This host's house is very generous, and there are quite a few water pavilions in front, but it's a pity that these people are busy reciting poems, so they don't even take a look."

    Just now Yang Jin looked around, feeling that the wine pond and meat forest between the two of them seemed too incompatible under the spring and white snow all over the garden

    "Everyone is admiring the flowers. Wouldn't it be nice for us to eat here?"

    Wen Qian snorted and looked at him, "If you want to save face, then don't eat it, anyway, I don't care, I haven't moved a mouthful since morning."

    Yang Jin was startled when he heard the words, and hurriedly put back the osmanthus cake in his hand, and gave most of it to her, "Then you eat more."

    "You don't have to worry about me." Wen Qian got up and picked two plum blossoms, then turned around and said, "It's so sweet, just eat two plum blossoms to fill your stomach."

    She sprinkled flowers one by one into the wine glass, "Come, plum blossom wine." She took a sip as she spoke.

    In order to warm up in the cold winter, the pot was filled with burning knives, and after two cups, the limbs stretched out quickly. Yang Jin drank with her for a while, turned the glass around, and felt that the water had a little bit of stamina, and made a sound.  Remind: "Drink less, this wine is easy to get drunk."

    "Did you underestimate me?" Wen Qian glanced at him indifferently, raised her eyebrows and smiled, "Girl, I have been in the music workshop for ten years, when have I ever been drunk?"

    Her tone is really serious.

    However, Yang Jin suddenly remembered the scene of that day by the Huaiyang River in Guangling City, and a trace of inexplicable warmth gradually floated in his eyes looking at the wine.

    Wen Qian stared at him for a long time with her chin propped up, and said suspiciously: "Hey what are you thinking, you suddenly laugh like this?"

    ""

    He could only shake his head ironically, "It's nothing."

    The red plum blossoms in full bloom outside the pavilion swayed gently in the fine north wind, and the two unknowingly drank a pot of spirits with a plate of sweet and rotten pastries.

    When Wen Qian walked down the steps, her cheeks were already slightly blush. She was still in good spirits, because of the burning knife, she looked like ZhouWhen he recovered from his annoyance, he saw Wen Qian striding forward and throwing the cloak back from his shoulders. He was stunned for a moment, and quickly reached out to catch it.

    Underneath she was only wearing a jacket and skirt, white on the top and red on the bottom, very flimsy, but her every step was calm and sound.

    Before Fu Min could react, Wen Qian had already stepped up the steps, grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, with a cold tone.

    "Who told you that the Yang family doesn't understand rhythm?"

    She looked down at her with contemptuous disdain, "You have the nerve to show your piano skills for others to judge?"

    "When I was your age, "Luoxue Listening to Plum Blossoms" was already left over from playing."

    Fu Min secretly gritted his teeth and twitched his wrist: "You are not a small tone, who are you from the Yang family?"

    Wen Qian let go of her five fingers, took off the waist card of Jin Yiwei, and slapped it on the table with a loud sound.

    "I, Yang Jin from Jinyiwei Baihu, today I will show you how the Yang family plays the piano¡ªhere."

    Yang Jin: ""

    Sure enough, I drank too much.

    She turned the pipa in her palm and held it obliquely, tilted her head and smiled provocatively at Fu Min, lightly pressed the neck of the pipa with her left hand, and plucked the strings with five fingers of her right hand.

    In an instant, a series of clean strumming force surged like mountains and rivers, sweeping across the quiet plum blossoms in an instant, as if the branches of the whole forest trembled inexplicably with an invisible strong wind.

    Even Xiaojing Lake, which was frozen by ice, trembled.

    When Fu Min saw Wen Qian taking out her waist card, she only thought that she was just like Yang Ning, a Jin Yiwei who could only kill people, but after the strings of this Wuqu Lunzhi popped out, she realized the obvious gap, and  An uneasy thought arises - "This is a master".

    It wasn't the first time Yang Jin heard her play such a passionate tune, but perhaps because of his drunkenness, the tune seemed more indulgent.  The shaking of the strings almost drew tens of thousands of troops.

    Even when she raised her finger to tap on the pipa, even the audience around her nodded accordingly.

    Yang Jin hugged her robe, and watched Wen Qian slay all directions on this battlefield that only belonged to her. There was arrogance in his unruly eyebrows and eyes, as if the whole world could be trampled under his feet, so arrogant  A generation.

    He looked at it, and couldn't help but smile gradually in his eyes.

    Suddenly, a melodious sound of the flute was mixed into the killing intent. Although it sounded completely different from the sound of the sword, light and sword, it was unexpectedly able to blend together.

    Yang Jin looked sideways slightly, at the end of the bluestone road, someone came with a flute, and the black long gown was like clouds and fog.

    Although Wen Qian was having a good time with someone who wanted to sing together, Wen Qian didn't pay much attention to it, and still played according to his own rhythm.

    The qin and flute are intertwined and chasing each other, one ebbs and another, there is an inexplicable and harmonious tacit understanding, she flicks her fingers, and ends in the final overtone, leaving a long lingering sound.

    Fu Min seemed to have been stunned, staring blankly at Xu Li.

    After Wen Qian finished playing, she didn't make a very sophisticated appearance, so she casually threw the exquisitely crafted pipa back to its original place, turned sideways and said arrogantly: "Did you hear that?"

    "We, the Yang family, practice martial arts, and we all use scabbards to pluck the strings. Do you understand the rhythm?" (Remember the website website: www.hlnovel.com
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