It was September, which was the third autumn. The coolness of late autumn was desolate, the fragrance of animals lingered in the embroidery room in the inner courtyard of Yang Mansion, and the stove built into the wall was as warm as spring.
"Don't be lazy." Yang Lin took back the cane and said calmly.
Tears welled up in Ning'er's eyes, and she raised her hand, her almond-shaped eyes glaring angrily at Yang Lin, who was holding the most famous pornographic book in the Tang Dynasty.
I really don’t know how this prodigal son got the first place in the government examination, and who blindly spread his reputation as a noble gentleman. To Ning’er, he is clearly a playboy who loves to torture people for fun.
At this time, the door opened with a creak, and Li Yunniang came in with two cups of steaming tea. She took a look at it and said distressedly: "Da Lang, when we Ning'er was in Qingyin Pavilion, we have been trained for more than ten years."
Yang Lin snorted coldly and interrupted: "What kind of place is Qingyin Pavilion? It's a place that trains prostitutes to drink and sleep with others. What a dirty thing." After saying that, he put down the book in his hand and lifted Ning'er's chin with a cane.
He raised his eyebrows and said, "You want to be a bit of a prostitute with red lips that thousands of people can taste, and offer yourself pillow mats in exchange for money to make a living?"
Ning'er's face was frighteningly red, and her beautiful eyes seemed to be bursting with fire. Yang Lin whipped her body with a cane and scolded: "Answer!"
Li Yunniang hurriedly stepped forward, but did not dare to stop her. She could only whisper: "My Ning'er, tell Dalang that you don't want to do it. Tell me quickly."
"I don't want to." Ning'er bit her chopsticks and spit out these two words.
Yang Lin snorted and continued to reprimand: "You have been feeling sorry for yourself all day long, you are lazy, you follow the crowd, and you have no ambition at all. If you were not lucky enough to have a good skin, you would be worse than the lowest prostitute.
What's wrong with your poor family background? I'd rather die with the fragrance on a branch than blow it into the north wind. I'll give you a chance to clean yourself up. You're still acting like a petty person. You really don't know how to flatter me."
Ning'er was stunned on the spot. She was sold into a brothel since she was a child. Her appearance was so impressive. She didn't suffer much due to her natural beauty.
Who in the brothel would sincerely reprimand him and discipline her, which fostered her lazy temperament. She felt that life was gloomy and meaningless, and she just took things as they came, and never thought about fighting for them.
She has never tasted the love between her parents. Now that Ning'er has grown up, she has lost the most important relationship in her life, which has created an emotional hunger in her heart. Now that she has been scolded by Yang Lin, it has long been buried deep in her heart.
The image of his father suddenly appeared, and his eyes became blurred. He bit his lip and whispered: "What Dalang taught me is that Ning'er realized that she was wrong."
Yang Lin saw that her expression didn't seem to be fake, so his expression softened slightly and he took out a thin book from his sleeve.
"Put it down. We'll practice your manners tomorrow. Come over and take a look at this first."
Ning'er felt relieved, took off the chopsticks, flexed her numb wrists, and stepped forward to take a look.
There was no surface in the book. It was obviously written by Yang Lin himself. There was a poem on the first page.
Ning'er held the book and recited silently: "The sound is slow, searching, searching, deserted, miserable and miserable.
I saw how charming Qingshan was, but I didn’t expect Qingshan to see me like this
Listen to the spring rain in the small building all night, sell apricot flowers in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty."
The more she read, the more fascinated she became. She had never heard of these wonderful new words, and she had no idea where Yang Lin copied them from.
Ning'er raised her head, with infinite admiration in her eyes: "Dalang, are you writing these?"
Yang Lin saw little stars popping out of her eyes. He waved his hand and said with a chuckle, "I didn't write it, you wrote it."
"Me?" Ning'er's mouth opened slightly, and she couldn't even feel the pain all over her body. She whispered: "Dalang knows how to joke, how can Nunu have such ability."
Yang Lin pinched her chin and leaned towards her face, scaring Ning'er until her face turned red with embarrassment and her eyes twitched.
"I said you wrote it, so you wrote it. After you go back, recite it every day. I will check it every day. If you can't recite five poems a day, watch your butt." Yang Lin said domineeringly, while shaking his head maliciously.
The rattan was so frightening that the tip of Ning'er's buttocks felt itchy, and she quickly nodded in agreement.
It was a pleasure to carry these good words with her all day long, and she didn't worry at all.
Yang Lin secretly laughed in his heart, I have copied to you all the famous poems that can be memorized in the Southern Song Dynasty for hundreds of years. They are all famous poems by Li Qingzhao, Xin Qiji, Lu You, Yang Wanli, and Fan Chengda that have been passed down through the ages. So many essences are gathered together.
, let Ning'er throw it out at the right place and on the right occasion, and still worry about not being able to become famous?
The title of this talented woman cannot be escaped. Coupled with her financial resources and her appearance, becoming famous in Bianliang is like picking something out of a bag.
It's just that Li Qingzhao, a layman from Yi'an, is having a hard time with Zhao Mingcheng, and he doesn't know that all his later lyrics have been plagiarized.
Of course, this lawsuit can't be fought. She can't go to the Yamen to file a complaint: Yang Lin copied it too quickly. He copied it before I even thought about it.
The more Ning'er read, the more she felt that her new master was simply unfathomable. It was ridiculous that she had doubted his fame just now. His talent was unmatched by Su Dongpo of this dynasty. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he was the most talented person in the Song Dynasty.
After finishing all this, Yang Lin stood up, put the cane on the table, and said: "That's it for today. I'll come back tomorrow. I hope you won't get beaten a few times."
Ning'er was filled with shame and anger, lowering her head and not daring to speak. Li Yunniang joked at the side: "Don't worry, Da Lang, our Ning'er is very smart. We can learn anything quickly, and we will definitely satisfy Da Lang."
Stretching, the No. 1 Concubine of the Song Dynasty took his own "Youxian Cave" and walked out of the embroidery room leisurely with his hands behind his back.
After he completely disappeared, Ning'er raised her head, wrinkled her nose and pouted, "He's just a fifteen-year-old boy, pretending to be a senior. Look at his old-fashioned look, he looks like a scheming bad guy."
Li Yunniang laughed: "Girl, Dalang is really a good man. You can't go wrong by listening to him. Mom has seen so many men. I can tell what they are at a glance. You are lucky."