"What should I do? The three of us are gone for tea and thirty taels of silver. Even if we sleep with the maid in this courtyard, the three of us will have to spend several taels." Second Uncle Xu was in a hurry. Looking at his son:
"Farewell to the old days, think of a way quickly."
Is this a question of money? This is a question that no news has revealed The brothers complained wildly in their hearts.
Xu New Year looked at his father: "What can I do? It's just luck. My eldest brother and I came as soon as we came. Doesn't father know himself well?"
His tone was a little heavy, which showed that he was also anxious.
This wave is really a blood loss The money is second, the key is that the news has not been found out Looking at Mr. Zhao who was taken away by the servant girl, Xu Qi'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Huakui: Shuangjue of Qin and Poetry.
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: "Farewell to the old, you write for me."
Xu New Year did not hesitate, sitting upright in tacit understanding, holding a pen.
Xu Qi'an spoke quickly, and read: "All the fragrances shake off Du Xuanyan, occupying all the charm to Xiaoyuan."
? Xu Xinnian moves his brush like flying, and 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 faint fragrance floats in the moon and dusk."
Xu New Year didn't start writing, he was stunned, like petrified, muttering to himself and 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: "You give this poem to Lady Fuxiang, and 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 fragrant shoulders and chest are covered with water drops, reflecting the charming light in the candlelight.
Her skin is as coagulated as grease, she looks like a beautiful woman.
A personal servant girl was serving by the bathtub, while praising Fuxiang's skin, she 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 not unusual for a scholar to be a scholar," Fuxiang smiled, and lightly stirred the water, saying, "But with Mr. Zhao's talent, it's not a problem to get a Juren."
The servant girl laughed in a low voice: "I knew my wife liked this kind of talented son, like that annoying Zhou Li, who showed off his might just because of his father's official position.
"The Mr. Zhao is very talented. I hope his wife will treat 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" Fuxiang 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 are no rules, 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 taking a bath, Fuxiang put on a thin gauze skirt, her graceful figure was looming, and she came to the table and sat down with her snow-white feet.
"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.
"The Floating Fragrance Presented by Yingmei Xiaoge"
All the fragrances shake off Du Xuanyan, occupying all the amorous feelings towards Xiaoyuan.
Sparse shadows and slanting water, clear and shallow water, dark fragrance floating at 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!"
Looking back, 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 oiran lady was urgent and sharp: "Who, who sent the poem, which son, tell me quickly!!"
The servant girl was taken aback, and mumbled: "It seems that the surname is Yang"
The Oiran lady rushed to the door recklessly.
"My lady, my ladyhow can you go out with your appearance, you can't" The servant girl hugged tightly.
"Let go of me, 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.
"Don't be impatient, my lady. The servants will go immediatelyto 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 water, clear and shallow water, dark fragrance floating in the moon duskGift floating fragrance, gift floating fragrance"
Big tears rolled down her pretty face, and she lay on the table and began to cry
In the front hall, some guests left, while others did not.
After the tea round, the unsuccessful guests have two choices: one, go to another yard 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 what I got in return was a light sentence.
Obviously, Xu Qi'an's poem did not impress the oiran.
Xu New Year 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 arrogant 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 song 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¡ªthese two lines of poems were mentioned.
The two poems have become famous throughout the ages, what a high evaluation.
"Dark Fragrance" and "Sparse Shadow" have even become the names of ci 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 is given to the two great scholars of Yunlu Academy, they can raise me as their own sonXu Qi'an thought of a possibility, this The oiran who is known as the best poet and qin is actually a showman.
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 someone, it is impossible for her to be recognized by literati.
Compared with the hype and selling of the previous artists, the oirans of this era also have similar operations, but the latter has real skills.
The reason is simple, ancient scholars are not as easy to fool as young people in 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, did you write the poem?"
The three masters of the Xu family looked at each other, relieved.
"It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded.
The servant girl smiled, became more respectful, 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 "Yingmei Pavilion" and whispered to each other.
"Hey, why did he follow in?"
"This, thisis not in compliance with the rules, how can there be two people in?"
"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 poems did you write?"
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