The warm wind blew through the piles of green flowers in the garden. Petals of various colors flowed with the wind and fell on the stone slabs, in the garden pavilion, on the Chengxin Lake, and on the Fengshui Pavilion. The sound of footsteps sounded briskly on the stone slabs.
The garden suddenly became more alive.
Cheng Ting and Mo Lingfeng walked side by side and kept asking: "I remember there was a big elm tree here, why is it gone?"
He came to play when Mo Lingfeng was one year old, so he remembered it.
"It was struck by lightning." Mo Lingfeng raised his hands high, "Suddenly, the fire burned so high."
Cheng Ting sighed angrily for the elm money tree. Following Mo Lingfeng as he walked forward, he turned around and asked, "Where is this place?"
He opened his hands wide and said: "Why is such a big Guanyin statue gone? I heard that my aunt hired it."
Mo Lingfeng replied: "My brother doesn't believe in Buddhism, so he sent him to Xiongshan Temple to worship him."
The three of them passed by the lake and took a detour through a bluestone path behind the water pavilion to exit the garden. The scenery gradually changed, with no flowers or grass in sight, only a few ancient trees with connected crowns, blocking the sky and the sun, casting cold and heavy shadows.
In this huge, dark green shadow, sits "Jiusixuan".
Wu Jin stepped on the bluestone under the shade of a tree and immediately felt a chill coming from under his feet. He couldn't help but lower his head to look - the bluestone under his feet was very oily and not a deserted place.
He stopped shivering and followed Mo Lingfeng as he walked in. In the middle was the three-wide main house, which was also swallowed up by the umbrella-like tree crown. The door was covered with Korean paper as bright as satin, and the door opened to both sides.
With it open, you can have a clear view of the situation in the house.
There is a black lacquer incense table with an upturned head in front, a statue of Confucius, a rose table and chairs, and in the middle there are three black lacquer flat tables with rows of writings on them. There are pens, inks, paper and inkstones neatly placed on them, and there are green cushions on the ground.
.
The light was dim, and everything inside seemed to be covered with a layer of gray gauze. The servant stood inside, standing still, like a puppet.
After Wu Jin crossed the threshold, he saw the "puppet" moving and quietly lighting up the three candles in the room. The room suddenly burst into light, illuminating all the portraits hanging on the wall.
Mo and Cheng worked together to drag the big yellow dog in, pulled the cushions on the floor, placed them together, and pushed away the pens, inks, papers and inkstones on the flat table, which was used to spread the snacks brought by Cheng Ting.
Mo Lingfeng turned his head, patted the cushion on the ground, and said to Wu Jin with a bright smile: "Wu Jin, come on!"
Her crumbling tooth was gone, but she couldn't help but stick out her tongue and lick her gums - a small tooth popped out.
The silent old house suddenly came to life, with oil paper packages opening and closing, making rustling sounds, and intermittent chewing sounds, mixed with the sounds of voices and the struggling sounds of the big yellow dog.
The sudden movement startled the mountain babblers that were perching in Jiusixuan. A group of mountain babblers fluttered and circled, making a sharp "dedede" cry.
When the babbler cries, all the birds in the garden follow suit, making a long-lasting and extremely noisy call.
In front of Jiusixuan is the Mofu study room.
Mo Qianlan was most afraid of this kind of noise. All his cries turned into thin and long needles, piercing into his brain and giving him a headache. Every time he had epilepsy, he had a headache for several days, especially this time.
Violently, the slightest movement made my mind become a mess.
He closed his eyes, and after a while he calmed down and listened to Mo Lingfeng's nanny talking.
"Last night I was so excited that I fell asleep. This morning, I woke up at midnight. I put on the new clothes I just made. I didn't eat anything. I just asked the kitchen to make 24-color wontons. I said they would all be here soon.
We ate together, but we didn’t know when they would come, so we waited at the back corner door before dawn.”
After hearing this, Mo Qianlan's head started to hurt even more.
Zhao Shiheng sat below and asked the nanny to step aside first. He said with a smile: "Girl has grown up and wants to make friends."
Mo Qianlan's face looked like a spermed winter melon, turning green and white at one time or another. His eyes were gloomy and he was gritting his teeth. He didn't know whether he was enduring the pain or not feeling angry.
After a moment, he struggled to say: "I can also be her friend. She has so many little maids who can all be her friends."
"You are an old man, and the maid is a servant," Zhao Shiheng said mercilessly, "You can't even be her friend."
Mo Qianlan snorted coldly: "Two brats."
Zhao Shiheng laughed and felt like he was going to drown in Mo Qianlan's river of vinegar. He stood up and stretched: "I'm going to try the twenty-four flavors of wontons. This is rare to eat. Once I'm full, I can go
Do you want to work hard?"
Mo Qianlan slumped in his chair: "I can't eat it."
He was so angry that he still had a headache. The medicine he took seemed to be poured on stones, and it was of no use at all.
The plaster Li Yi Tie sent was at hand. He thought about it for a long time, but he still didn't put it on his temples.
The birds were chirping non-stop, and the fight was going on in the Mo Mansion. It was not until Wu Jin and the other three finished their wontons and sat down together to eat sweets that they gradually stopped.
After a good meal, the big yellow dog no longer frowned, but kept a drooped face, keeping the farthest distance from Cheng Ting, and stretched the dog's leash long and straight, as if they were a pair of enemies.
Mo and Cheng temporarily lost interest in the dog, tied the dog leash to the leg of the table, munched on peanut cakes, and at the same time showed off their poor handwriting.
Wu Jin spread out a piece of paper. The paper was flat and thick, so there was no need to press corners. He took the ink stick and slowly ground it.
Cheng Ting first took a pen, dipped it in ink and wrote, leaving a long string of ghostly drawings on the paper: "Look, I can write in cursive!"
It's just scribbling, not written.
Not to be outdone, Mo Lingfeng pulled the paper and snatched his pen: "I can write big characters."
She did know how to write, and the words got bigger and bigger, so big that they couldn't fit on a piece of paper.
One of the two wrote "cursive script" and the other wrote "big characters". After writing several sheets, they became tired and asked Wu Jin to write.
Wu Jin could only write in block letters, so he picked up his pen and wrote a piece without anything new.
As soon as I put down my pen and arrived at Beacon Hill, I heard a servant outside the house calling him "Mr. Zhao."
Wu Jin quickly stood up and wanted to clean up, but he was so messed up that he had no idea what to do, so he had to rush to the door, where he went to greet his husband as a servant, bowed and lowered his hands, and opened the curtain for Zhao Shiheng: "Sir, please come in."
"Yeah." Zhao Shiheng glanced at him and stepped into the house.
The big yellow dog was unexpected. It looked at Zhao Shiheng with eyebrows, wagging its head and tail, and was very enthusiastic.
Wu Jin looked at Zhao Shiheng carefully.
Zhao Shiheng was wearing a valley scarf and a soap-colored shirt. He was thin, but not thin. He had single eyelids, a high nose bridge, and a short beard. He was indeed a little lame when he walked. He walked to Mo Lingfeng's desk and stood there, using only one foot.
Support your body.
He bent down to pick up the words they had written, and every finger showed a careless aloofness.
Cheng Ting was not at all afraid of the lecturers in the Prefecture School, but when he saw Zhao Shiheng, he felt as if he was overwhelmed by Mount Tai. He honestly sat back with a soft cushion and did not dare to speak easily.
Wu Jin also walked in, placed pens, inks, paper and inkstones gently, put away the oil-paper bags spread out on the table, sent them outside, then untied the dog leash and let the big yellow dog go out.
After everything was put away, he sat down at the flat table next to Cheng Ting in a dignified manner.