The passion of young people is like the blooming spring flowers at first, the warm summer wind, and the rustling autumn leaves at the end, and the bone-piercing winter snow.
Cheng Ting collapsed on the bed, no longer howling, but silently crying. All his thoughts flowed out with the tears, so that his heart was empty. Tears and snot were already flowing, and he didn't bother to raise his hand to wipe them away.
Wu Jin twisted the handkerchief again, spread it on his palm, covered Cheng Ting's face, wiped it from top to bottom, folded the handkerchief, turned it over, and wiped it again from left to right.
Putting down the handkerchief, he covered Cheng Ting with a thin quilt and placed the two shoes securely. At the same time, he discovered that Cheng Ting was not tall but his shoes were not small.
Seeing that Cheng Ting's tears would not dry up for a while, and that he was sweating a lot, he got up and went out. When he saw Qi Chang waiting outside the door, he whispered: "I'm going to wash my face."
Qi Chang nodded and stepped forward, yawning inwardly and not daring to fall asleep. He could only stay by the bed silently, stretching his head from time to time to see if Cheng Ting was asleep on the bed.
After several glances, doubts appeared on his face - Cheng Ting was wearing gold and silver and had no worries about food and drink. In his opinion, he was simply the happiest person in the world. What was there to be sad about?
Wu Jin didn't have any doubts in her heart, and was even too tired to worry about anything. She just walked to the official room, washed herself from head to toe with the remaining water, and vomited at the same time.
He had not touched any alcohol, but the cool breeze in the Yan Pavilion stirred up the heat for a moment. The water vapor and the cool breeze lurked into the Xuan Mansion along with his sweat, and the complex smell and noisy sounds gave him a headache.
After spitting it out, I felt better.
My headache only subsided a little, but it was still a dull pain. I couldn't move much, as if there were needles hidden inside, and they would prick me whenever I moved. Even the tied up hair in a bun pulled at my scalp, causing it to be tight and painful.
He could bear it when he was busy, but it was unbearable when he was quiet.
After washing, he put on the clothes sent by his servants. He endured the pain, went to the studio, lit the candle, spread out his pen and ink, and wrote today's diary.
"On the Dragon Boat Festival in the 22nd year of Yuan Zhang, there was no rain."
Dots of pen and ink fell on the paper. He was asked to write down everything that happened on the Dragon Boat Festival one by one. He wrote evenly and evenly. He wrote so smoothly that he actually felt in a trance, as if he had been in a trance all the time.
Jiusixuan, in front of the table, used this pen to grind the ink. The ink and pen were all mixed with Jiusixuan's strong smell of ancient trees, and fell on the paper.
It wasn't until Xi Qin was writing that he stopped being in a trance and started to write solemnly: "Is there anyone in the world who can play this sad voice? The flowers are dark, the lights are dim, the snow is heavy on the trees, the long river is frozen to this day, and I am lonely.
Life and death, farewell, are all in it, and the echoes are endless.
I'm so lucky to be able to listen to this song. I don't know who invited me to sing this song, so I can only give you a paper reward, which is a great Dragon Boat Festival gift."
When the ink was dry, he folded the paper, inserted the tabloid, got up and went to the side room to see Cheng Ting.
Qi Chang fell asleep on the couch outside the screen. When he saw Wu Jin coming in, he stood up quickly. Wu Jin whispered: "You sleep in your bed, I just watch."
The tears on Cheng Ting's face were still wet, and he had fallen asleep due to exhaustion. The smell of alcohol lingered in the room, which complemented his snoring.
When Wu Jin saw that he would not fight for his life again, he quietly withdrew. He also went to the west wing to loosen his hair, took off his stuffy coat, put it on the screen, bent down to take off his shoes, put them away, and went to sleep.
Got off.
No matter when, he is so organized and not messy.
This sleep was short. Halfway through the night, he suddenly woke up. He felt extremely thirsty and wanted to drink water, but the teapot was empty, not a drop of it.
He put on his clothes and opened the door, about to enter the flower hall to pour water, when he suddenly heard Mo Lingfeng's crisp voice coming from the path outside Jiusixuan: "Is Mo Xiaoru a ghost?"
Wu Jin stayed where he was, knowing that the Mo brothers and sisters were returning home from the Yan Pavilion. Instead of taking the main entrance, they took the corner door and came in from the back garden. Mo Qianlan must have told Mo Lingfeng an article from "Yi Jian Zhi"
short story.
Then he heard Mo Qianlan's soft words: "Yes, that Lin Tiha is her ghost lobbyist. If someone is greedy for money and lust, and agrees to Namo's concubine, it will be miserable."
Mo Lingfeng asked again: "Isn't Mo Zhilu really Mo Xiaoruren's father?"
Mo Qianlan laughed: "Who knows."
The two voices are getting closer and closer,
By some strange coincidence, Wu Jin looked down the path, but in the blink of an eye, Mo Qianlan had already led Mo Lingfeng into Wu Jin's eyes.
Mo Qianlan seemed to be half drunk and a little enthusiastic. He took off his crane cloak, covered his face with his hands, and yawned.
Mo Lingfeng was holding a round fan in one hand and a lantern in the other. If he felt something, he glanced sideways at Jiusixuan.
The ancient trees in Jiusixuan were full of giant shadows. If there were no lights, it would be difficult to see Wu Jin standing under the tree outside the flower hall. On the contrary, Mo Lingfeng was holding a lantern, and the fire was bright, allowing Wu Jin to see clearly.
Half of her face.
Her forehead, eyebrows, and bridge of nose were all blunt, and her dark eyes were hidden in Danfeng's eyes, turning slowly, as if she was confused and at a loss, but she also showed a kind of indifference and alienation.
Wu Jin was sure that Mo Liangfeng could not see him, but he found that Mo Liangfeng would only show this look when he was next to Mo Qianlan - a little dignified, dismissive, indifferent, like a trumpet Mo Qianlan
Lan.
Soon, Mo Lingfeng turned his face away and hummed a few tunes.
She loved to play the xun, sing and dance. She handed the lantern to the maid next to her. She raised her arms high and the wide sleeves of her gauze shirt fell down, revealing her two fair arms. She used a round fan instead of a linggu and clapped twice in a row.
.
Both of her wrists were wrapped with hundreds of ropes, and Wu Jin saw the one he had braided at a glance - the other hundreds of ropes were hung with gold, silver and jade pendants, but his one was bare and only had colorful silk threads.
A group of people disappeared from Wu Jin's eyes, and only the fragrance of gardenias they brought from the garden slowly spread to the tip of his nose.
After standing still for a moment, Wu Jin woke up and did not go into the flower hall to drink tea. Instead, he returned to the studio, lit a candle, took out the diary, and added a sentence.
"See no evil."
At the beginning of the month, Cheng Ting sat up from the bed with a splitting headache. While looking at his situation, he recalled what he had done. After thinking about everything clearly, he lowered his head and smelled it, and immediately felt that he was soaked in wine and sweat.
A jar of stinky pickles.
He got out of bed top-heavy, pulled on his shoes, turned around the screen, and saw Qi Chang sleeping outside, so he woke him up and asked him to light a fire and check the time.
Qi Chang quickly got up to light candles, looked at the carved incense, and then told Cheng Ting that Mao hour had just passed.
A quarter later, Cheng Ting took a bath and found a pair of clean clothes from the baggage packed by Pang Dahai to change into.
After wiping his wet hair half-dry with a handkerchief, he pushed the door open and went out. When he looked at the sky, it was green and soft. In the gaps under the stone steps, there were swarms of ants, who were being carried and carried.
If it were a normal day, he would have looked at it twice more, but today, for some reason, it felt boring.
He remembered that Wu Jin lived in the west wing, so he walked towards the west wing. Halfway there, he stopped again because he saw Wu Jin standing against the wall inside the studio.
There was no light, no blue light, and the studio was dim. Wu Jin's figure was thinly pressed against the wall, alone.