Sima Yang smiled and stared deeply at me with his orange eyes. Under the moonlight, his delicate white skin seemed to be covered with a layer of gauze, as if in a dream: "I beg the Weaver Girl for help."
I was puzzled, and there were two big question marks in my eyes: "Begging from the Weaver Girl? What do you mean?"
"This custom was passed down from the Han Dynasty. According to legend, on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, women laid out fruits and melons in front of the bright moon, prayed to the seventh sister, and prayed to the fairies to give them smart hearts and dexterous hands; also, praying
Get wealth, have a happy and sweet marriage as soon as possible, have children, etc..."
It turns out there is such an event during Chinese Valentine’s Day! [
I paused and murmured, "But the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl only get together once a year. They are probably too busy chatting about love to care about these people in the mortal world, right?!"
Sima Yang laughed out loud, his pink lips trembling, exuding an alluring luster. He leaned close to my ear and said in a pleasant voice: "It is said that on the night of the Chinese Valentine's Day, hiding under the fruit stand can...
Hear the affectionate words of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl when they met..."
Huh? Is this true? Why have I never heard of it?
There was an evil smile on Sima Yang's lips. He leaned down and gently raised my chin. His voice was full of charm: "Girl, are you willing to go with me to eavesdrop on the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl under the grape arbor?"