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Chapter 198: Remembering the Green Grass of King Sun

 After the Lunar New Year, the markets all of a sudden become deserted, and they will not become lively again until the Lantern Festival.

They say last winter was cold, and this year was no less cold. The old snow has not yet melted, and new snow has fallen again.

Looking around, there are only a few hawkers carrying baskets selling food, walking along the wall with hunched shoulders and hunched backs. They probably still have some inventory that has not been sold out.

Several people rode on horses and walked slowly in the middle of the street.

The leader was wearing a mink fur cloak with a black and gold Sichuan brocade cover, and a smoky blue velvet brocade hat with ear protection.

This man has rich and deep eyebrows, but his lips are a little thin. If you stare into his eyes, you will see an affectionate face. If you stare at his lips, you will see an extremely thin and cool face.

The horse doesn't move very fast, and the people on the horse seem to be deliberately admiring the rare purity on the street.

In the past, Wanning Street was filled with cars, horses and pedestrians. It was noisy and noisy, as if the sun never set here.

Fortunately, there is no wind today, and the sound of horse hooves on the snow can be heard clearly.

Such a monotonous and chaotic sound can easily make people fall into a trance.

Golden glazed tiles, carved stone well railings, and ripe red dates will flash before your eyes...

Also, the most beautiful and gentle smiling face in the world...

If it weren't for the clanging of the pipa in the street teahouse, the people on horseback would still be in a trance.

The sound of the pipa is low and mournful. The singer seems to be young, and his clear voice is a little childish.

The song is "Dream Jiangnan" by Wen Feiqing:

Hate it all,

Hate is at the end of the world.

Shan Yue doesn’t know what’s going on in her heart,

The water and wind are empty, and the flowers are blooming in front of my eyes,

Swaying green clouds.

This piece of music was not popular in the capital because the emperor did not like Wen Tingyun's lyrics.

What is good at the top will be bad at the bottom.

If there is evil from above, there will be hatred from below.

Very good.

"Master, why don't you leave? Do you want to have tea?" the attendant behind him asked respectfully.

"Don't go in."

"Then..." The attendant was puzzled. What were you doing standing here in such a cold day?

"I guess the singer will be kicked out soon, so I'll stand here and take a look."

Sure enough, there was a sound of yelling and cursing inside, and then the door of the teahouse was opened, and two people were kicked out.

"What's not good about singing? It's really frustrating to sing this one!" The teahouse owner kept waving his hands like he was shooing away flies, "Go away, go away, we won't stay here."

"Uncle, please do okay! We, father and daughter, have no place to seek refuge in the capital, and we have been hungry for two days.

At any rate, the girl can sing some songs and earn a living by putting her face aside, so you have pity on us and help us!" The old man holding the pipa begged.

Standing next to him was a woman wiping her tears. She was wearing a Jingchai cloth skirt and her face could not be seen clearly.

"Please let me pity you, who can pity me? There are only a few guests at this time, and you know a total of about twenty pieces of music, and most of them are gentle." The shopkeeper said angrily, "I really want to keep you here.

Singing is just a sign of bad luck. Go quickly, go quickly!"

"We can learn. This girl can learn anything very quickly." The old man held the door open and still refused to leave, "How many houses have we been to? Only you are allowed to sing here, and other places are not allowed to enter.

I can see that you are always kind-hearted and you will definitely make a fortune."

"You don't need to coax me with sweet words. Even if the door is open for business, no one can lose money." The shopkeeper was very determined, "The shop is about to be closed, who will feed idle people in vain?
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How can I get by if I can’t sing seventy or eighty songs when I go out? Even if there are fewer guests these days, I still have to know forty or fifty songs, right? How can I learn it now?

Come on, come on, don't make trouble in front of our door and delay business."

After that, he asked the waiter to close the store door and blocked the father and daughter outside.

"Master, you know things like a god!" the attendant quickly said, "They were indeed driven out."

The father and daughter supported each other and looked around blankly, not knowing where to go.

"Call them over."

"Who are you calling? The father and daughter? Okay, the younger one will go over here."

The father and daughter didn't know what was going on, so they followed the entourage to the horse in fear.

The old man bowed to the man on the horse, one mouthful at a time.

The girl only dared to take a sneak peek and quickly lowered her head.

He looked very delicate, and he had just cried, like a young lotus that I felt pity for.

"Are you from Wudi?" the man on the horse asked.

"What the uncle said is that our father and daughter are from Wu." The old man smiled along with his face like a frozen persimmon.

"I want to buy you and be my servants, are you willing?" the man asked, "I just need to sing songs to me every now and then."

"This... this selling oneself... the little old man has never thought about it. Besides, at my age..." The old man originally planned that the father and daughter would depend on each other and make a living by selling music.

Who would have thought that this man would directly ask to buy them out?

Who would be willing to be a slave unless absolutely necessary?

But this person seems to be either rich or noble. People say that he would rather be a slave of the big family than a daughter of a small family, maybe...

"Or you can sell your daughter to me alone, and I'll give you five hundred taels of silver. You can also follow her into the mansion, and all the food and clothing will be paid by the mansion. If you want, just come with me. If you don't, forget it.

." After the man finished speaking, he rode his horse forward slowly.

The old man looked at his daughter anxiously, unable to make up his mind.

But the daughter bit her lip and said, "Dad, please do it! Otherwise we will freeze to death and starve to death."

"But what if..." The old man still couldn't make up his mind.

"There's nothing wrong with it, so I'll just pay five hundred taels of silver to buy my life." The woman said, "If I really risk my life, I'm afraid it won't be worth the money."

The life of a poor person is worthless. In the capital, twenty taels to fifty taels is enough to buy a living person.

"Master, do you really want to take them back?" The attendant was a little worried.

"Let's see if they are willing." The man did not look back.

Why did he spend ten times more money than the market price to buy that girl?

Is it out of pity? Or out of boredom?

Or is it because there once was a woman from Wu who liked to sing Wen Feiqing's songs, but it was a pity that I couldn't protect her?

"Uncle! Uncle! Please wait a moment!" the old man shouted loudly from behind, staggering after him, "Uncle, we are willing. Just please... don't lie to us."

"Go to the store over there and borrow a set of pen and paper," the man said, "sign and pledge, and pay the check immediately."

The old man's face, which was red from the cold, was once again covered with smile lines. Although there was some shame and reluctance in the smile, it was more than happy: "Hey, thank you sir, you are really a living Bodhisattva!"

The three characters "Deed of Sale" have already been written on the paper.

The person who wrote the document raised his head and asked the woman: "What is your name?"

"Qiqi, Wu Qiqi..." The woman blushed and said her name, "The luxuriant grass reminds me of the luxuriant king and grandson."

This is the first time in so many years that the second prince has personally bought someone.


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