Chapter 53: Chapter 53: I copied poems for trading, not for vulgar pretense

Chapter 53: Chapter 53: I copied poems for trading, not for vulgar pretense"What should we do? The three of us have lost thirty taels of silver for tea. Even if we find a maid from this courtyard to sleep with us, it will cost several taels for three people." Uncle Xu was anxious, as if he had returned to the time before liberation. He frowned and looked at his

son:

"Cijiu, think of a solution quickly."

Is this a matter of money? This is a matter of not getting any information... The two brothers complained wildly in their hearts.

Xu Xinnian looked at his father: "What can I do? It's just a matter of luck. My brother and I came here. Doesn't father know himself?"

His tone was a little heavy, which showed that he was anxious.

This wave is really a blood loss... Silver is secondary, the key is that the information has not been found out... Looking at Mr. Zhao who was taken away by the maid, Xu Qian'an suddenly remembered the title of Fuxiang Hua Kui: the best in zither and poetry.

He immediately asked the maid who served the guests for pen, ink and rice paper.

Clearing a space on the table, he pulled Xu Xinnian over and said, "Farewell to the old, you write for me."

Xu Xinnian did not hesitate, and sat upright in tacit understanding, holding the pen. Xu Qi'an spoke quickly, reciting: "All the flowers are falling, only the flowers are blooming, and they are full of charm in the small garden."

Xu Xinnian wrote quickly, writing a cursive script with a unique style.

Xu Qi'an continued to read: "Sparse shadows are slanting across the shallow water, and the faint fragrance floats in the moonlight at dusk."

Xu Xinnian did not write, he was stunned, as if petrified, and muttered to himself and repeated the last two sentences.

"Write quickly!" Xu Qi'an pushed him.

Xu Erlang woke up as if from a dream, and finished writing quickly with a tense face.

Xu Qi'an pulled away the rice paper, called the maid, and said, "You give this poem to Madam Fuxiang, and you can do it, saying that Yang is waiting here."

The maid was not very happy, but after Xu Qi'an stuffed her with a handful of silver, she immediately trotted away.

...

In the master bedroom, four folding screens blocked the bathtub, and curling steam lingered on the roof beams.

Fuxiang soaked in hot water filled with rose petals, her black hair tied up high, her neck white and slender, and water droplets hanging on her shoulders and chest, reflecting the charming light in the candlelight.

Her skin was as smooth as fat, like a jade statue.

A personal maidservant was serving beside the bathtub. While praising Fuxiang's skin, she said, "Young Master Zhao is already waiting in the tea room next door. The guests outside said that he is a scholar from the Imperial College."

"What's so strange about a scholar?" Fuxiang smiled and gently stirred the water, saying, "But with Young Master Zhao's talent, it's not a problem for him to pass the imperial examination."

The maidservant laughed softly, "I knew that my lady liked this kind of talented young man. For example, that annoying Zhou Li was just showing off his power by relying on his father's official position.

"Young Master Zhao is talented. I hope my lady will treat him well. Maybe he will become a good story in the future. A woman can also go down in history."

"Even I am making fun of him..." Fuxiang poked the maidservant's head with her finger and sighed, "It is so difficult for a woman to go down in history. It is something that many scholars can only hope for but cannot achieve. "

The door of the master bedroom was pushed open, and a maid came in. Standing in the hall, she said crisply: "Madam, the guest named Yang outside asked me to send a poem over."

Fuxiang frowned, and the head maid scolded: "You are rude. Madam has already chosen Mr. Zhao. How can you change it? Did you accept his favor?"

The little maid lowered her head and dared not talk back.

Fuxiang said lightly: "Put it on the table, go out and tell the guests, Fuxiang understands." The little maid was relieved, and she said "Ah", put the rice paper on the table, and went out. After bathing, Fuxiang put on a thin gauze skirt, her graceful figure looming, bare white feet, came to the table and sat down.

"Please invite Mr. Zhao in. "As she said this, her eyes fell on the rice paper on the table and she picked it up casually.

Her eyes suddenly froze, and she stared at the rice paper infatuatedly.

"Gift to Fuxiang from Yingmei Pavilion"

All the flowers have fallen, but only the blooming one is still beautiful, and it has all the charm in the small garden.

Sparse shadows slant across the shallow water, and the faint fragrance floats in the moonlight at dusk.

The maid walked to the door and was about to open the door to invite Mr. Zhao, when she suddenly heard the sharp shout of the lady behind her: "Wait!"

Turning back, the lady was holding the rice paper tightly in her hand, shaking slightly, and her face was weirder than ever before.

That was an emotion the maid had never seen on her face before.

The voice of the courtesan lady was urgent and sharp: "Who, who sent the poem, which young master, tell me quickly!!"

The maid was startled and stammered, "It seems to be surnamed Yang..."

The courtesan rushed to the door regardless of everything.

"Madam, madam... How can you go out in this state? You can't..." The maid hugged her

tightly.

"Let me go, let me go quickly." Fuxiang was so anxious that her face turned red. "Don't let that young man go, chase him back quickly."

The maid couldn't understand why the lady lost her composure like never before, just a poem. She completely ignored her usual knowledge, politeness and elegance.

"Madam, please be patient, I will go immediately... to invite the young man who wrote the poem."

After the maid left, the courtesan sat at the table in dishevel, looking at the paper in her hand in a trance.

"Sparse shadows slant across the shallow water, and the faint fragrance floats in the moonlight at dusk... Give it to Fuxiang, give it to Fuxiang..."

Tears as big as beans rolled down her pretty face, and she lay on the table and cried.

...

In the front hall, some guests left, while others did not.

After the tea party ended, the unsuccessful guests had two choices: one, go to another

courtyard to continue the next round. Two, if they were too drunk and tired, they could choose

the maids here to sleep with them.

"This Fuxiang girl doesn't buy your account." Xu Pingzhi looked at his nephew, with anxiety between his eyebrows.

The poem was sent over, but in return it was a light sentence.

Obviously, Xu Qian'an's poem did not impress the courtesan.

Xu Xinnian sneered: "How can a mere woman understand the essence of poetry?"

Xu Pingzhi stared at his son and asked, "Is the poem Ning Yan just wrote excellent?"

The arrogant Xu Erlang was convinced by his elder brother in the art of poetry and sighed, "Excellent, excellent. "

Xu Dalang was also puzzled. He had absolute confidence in this poem.

This seven-character poem is very famous. Especially the last two lines, which are praised as

the ultimate in praising plum blossoms.

At that time, under the lonely frost, two lines of poetry became famous through the ages -

these two lines are what I am talking about.

Two lines of poetry became famous through the ages, what a high evaluation.

"An Xiang" and "Sparse Shadows" even became the names of ci tunes, which shows the status

of this poem among ancient literati.

Famous people such as Ouyang Xiu and Sima Guang have given high scores to these two lines

of poetry.

And the author of this seven-character poem has also been remembered for thousands of years because of this poem... Well, Xu Qian'an forgot who the author was. This is impossible. There is no reason for her to reject me... If this poem is given to the two great scholars of Yunlu Academy, they can raise me as their own son... Xu Qian'an thought of a possibility that this courtesan who is known for her poetry and piano is actually a show-off. S~eaʀᴄh the NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She is just hyping up her fame and selling her persona. She is essentially a person with little

culture.

But there is a paradox here. If Fuxiang was a vase selling her persona, she would not be

recognized by literati.

Compared with the hype and selling of persona by artists in the previous life, the courtesans of this era also have similar operations, but the latter have real skills.

The reason is simple. The scholars in ancient times were not as easy to fool as the young

people in later generations.

While frowning, the big maid who served Fuxiang came in small steps, searching the crowd

with a slightly anxious look. After seeing Xu Qi'an, her expression relaxed, and she came in

with lotus steps, bowed, and said delicately:

"Young Master Yang, is this a poem you wrote?"

The three masters of the Xu family looked at each other, relieved.

"It's me." Xu Qi'an nodded.

The maid smiled, became more respectful, lowered her eyebrows and said softly: "My wife

invites you."

Xu Qian'an nodded calmly, followed the maid, and walked towards the master bedroom on

the other side of the attic.

This scene also attracted the attention of the guests who planned to stay in "Yingmei

Pavilion", and they whispered to each other.

"Hey, why did he follow in?" "This, this... is not in accordance with the rules, how did two people go in?"

"Just now the maid seemed to talk about poetry, and I happened to see what he and the

handsome boy wrote."

A middle-aged man dressed like a rich man walked up to Xu Xinnian and Xu Pingzhi, and bowed and said: "You two, I don't know what Miss Fuxiang means? How did that brother just go in, what poem did you write?"