The summer is long and the red sleeves are fragrant.
During the past few days in Linhuai Marquis Mansion, Zhu Pingan read, practiced calligraphy and studied Wang Xue, and occasionally teased naughty children and little lolita. The days were leisurely and comfortable. Of course, it would be better if the weather was not so hot.
Although there are several basins of crushed ice in the study room to cool down, and there are maids waving fans, the effect is not as effective as a modern air conditioner.
Miss modern times.
Withered vines, old trees, dusky crows, air-conditioned ifi watermelons, and Geyou's same style sand. As the sun sets, I lie down there.
Naughty children and little lolita often ran here. As a young and ignorant person, he only knew the meaning of the word "dangerous in the world" through his personal experience these days.
Li Shu also liked to stay in the study, either half-leaning on the couch, sitting across from the desk, looking through account books, or holding a poetry book.
"Sima Xiangru is also a mean-spirited person."
Li Shu sat opposite Zhu Ping'an, holding a volume of poems in her slender hand. She turned to a page, frowned and curled her little cherry lips in disdain.
There are two poems on this page, both of which are not standard poetry styles. The first is a number poem written by Sima Xiangru in the capital to Zhuo Wenjun: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven** ten hundred million.
"Why can't you understand this poem?" Baozi's little maid bit her finger, looking puzzled.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, hundreds, millions, all, but only Wuyi (memory). Sima Xiangru, who had a cold heart and was proud of the spring breeze, was fascinated by the colorful world. He has forgotten the days when he sold wine as a gangster and shared weal and woe. Zhuo Wenjun, his wretched wife, has no memory of the past and intends to divorce her and marry another." Li Shu put down her poems and felt ashamed of Sima Xiangru.
"Ah, this man named Sima is really a heartless man. Isn't Zhuo Wenjun very pitiful?" Baozi's little maid suddenly realized, and followed her own lady to despise Sima Xiangru, and at the same time felt sorry for Zhuo Wenjun.
"Zhuo Wenjun was far more talented than Sima Xiangru. After reading the letter, she asked the courier to drink a cup of tea. During the tea, she wrote a numbered poem and asked the courier to take the capital to show it to the heartless man. The heartless man was ashamed after reading the letter. He was so moved that he gave up his thoughts of divorcing his wife. From then on, the two of them grew old together." Li Shu held a volume of poems in her hands and said with a hint of emotion, her dark eyes falling on Zhuo Wenjun's poems:
After a farewell, the two places missed each other. They only said it was March or April. Who would have thought that in five or six years, I had no intention to play the lyre, the eight-line calligraphy could not be passed down, the nine-link chain was broken from it, the gaze of the ten-mile pavilion was longing, hundreds of thoughts, thousands of thoughts, and all kinds of helplessness. Your resentment.
Thousands of words and words are endless, I am bored by the fence, I climb high to see the geese on the ninth day of the month, the moon is round during the Mid-Autumn Festival in August and people are not round, I burn incense and hold candles to ask the sky in the middle of July, everyone shakes fans in the dog days of June and my heart trembles. In May, pomegranates are like fire. Unexpectedly, cold rain watered the flowers. In April, the loquats were not yet yellow. I wanted to look in the mirror and my mind was confused. Suddenly, in a hurry, the peach blossoms in March turned with the water. They were scattered. In February, the kite string was broken. Oh! Lang, Lang, I wish I could In the next life, you will be a girl and I will be a boy.
"The ending is very happy, isn't it?" Baozi's little maid's face turned from worry to joy.
"If your heart has changed, what can you do if you grow old together? It will only increase your worries. What do you think, husband?" Li Shu shook her head and glanced at Zhu Ping'an.
Why does this feel like getting vaccinated in advance?
After Zhu Ping'an listened, he smiled and nodded. He was not Sima Xiangru, let alone do what Sima Xiangru did.
"What about you, what would you do if you were Zhuo Wenjun?" Zhu Pingan put down the book in his hand and asked with a smile.
"Yes, yes, miss, what will you do?" Baozi's little maid was beside her, also very curious.
"If I were Zhuo Wenjun" Li Shu smiled sweetly and glanced at Zhu Ping'an, her dark eyes filled with charm.
She is truly a witch, her smile is so moving, her face is red with peach blossoms, and her smile can captivate both the country and the city.
"Hmm, what will Miss do?" Little maid Baozi nodded her little head and asked.
"I will go to the capital in person, throw this letter in front of that couple, and then turn around and leave." Li Shu's watery eyes were smiling and charming, as clear as blue waves, and her lips were slightly open, with a curve like a crescent moon.
So perfect.
"Ah? It's that simple, and then what? Wouldn't it be too advantageous for them?" The little maid Baozi opened her mouth in surprise and shook her head vigorously. She felt that her young lady was too kind and couldn't help those piles of things.
Dog men and women.
"Then throw away their heads. We can't make soup." Li Shu spread her hands and the curve of her mouth was so perfect.
Ahem
It turns out that this is Li Shu’s vaccination
Zhu Pingan, who was drinking tea on the other side of the desk, was unprepared and choked on a mouthful of tea and started coughing.
He turned around and left. It turned out that he had severed his head.
Well, this is very Li Shu, it is Li Shu’s style.
"Husband, what's wrong with you?" Li Shu looked at Zhu Pingan with a smile and asked softly. Her skin was as white as snow, her eyes were rippling with charming blue waves, falling on Zhu Pingan's face, and her voice was filled with concern.
"No, it's nothing." Zhu Pingan shook his head and smiled.
Baozi's little maid's reflex arc was relatively long, and she realized it at this time. She let out a yelp, opened her little mouth, covered her mouth with her little hand, and looked like she was shocked, "Ah, turned around and left, it turned out that he had decapitated his head, miss."
"
"Otherwise?" Li Shu rolled her eyes, looking full of energy and cuteness.
This vaccination was really a breath of fresh air in the mudslide, and Zhu Ping'an couldn't help but smile.
"Hey, what are you laughing at?" Li Shu glanced at Zhu Ping'an and asked with her mouth pouted.
"Haha, do you know that among the great poets of Tang Dynasty, Song Dynasty and Chinese poetry, apart from Sima Xiangru, there are other heartless people?" Zhu Pingan asked with a smile.
Um?
Among the masters of Tang poetry and Song lyrics, are there actually famous heartless people?
Li Shu was startled for a moment, thought for a moment, and then said: "Yuan Zhen is. Yingying Zhuan is his prototype. For the sake of fame, abandoning Cui Yingying is most unintentional and unscrupulous. Fortunately, he can write "It used to be difficult to make water in the sea, except Wushan."
Yun', you are really a hypocritical villain, you have insulted the clean word loyalty."
Well, it is true that Yuan Zhen is indeed a typical heartless poet who plays with emotions. Although he has many works that are famous throughout the ages, he is as famous as Bai Juyi and is also called "Yuan Bai". However, he writes good poems but is a scumbag.
, with the ghostly excuse of "Yu's virtue is not enough to defeat the evil one, he must use his forbearance", he was confused and finally gave up on "Shuangwen" (that is, the prototype of Cui Yingying in the biography of Yingying). His attitude towards feelings has always made Zhu Ping'an
Very disgusting.
"Also, some people hide very deeply, but they are typical heartless people." Zhu Pingan smiled, nodded, and guided.
And? Hidden very deeply?
Li Shu lowered her chin and tried to think, but she didn't have much clue.
There are also some romantic affairs of poets in history, but men love women, but they cannot be said to be heartbroken.