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Poetry in the Snow

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    Jingling Prince¡¯s Mansion.

    Song Caiwei sat in front of the window, twirling her fingers around the ends of her hair.

    Xiao Junchi and Jiang Lingzhou were not there, and the most lively maids also went out together. The palace seemed to suddenly become quiet, with only the sound of falling snow remaining.

    Aru hooked her knees, curled up, and slept innocently on the recliner.  Some rough brown and black hair was messily twisted into a ball on the top of the head, as if a wild cat had been rolling in the snow for too long, and its fur was messed up.

    If it were anyone else, there would be no reason for a maid to sleep soundly in front of her master, but Song Caiwei had always been tolerant and gentle towards Aru, and never cared about such trivial matters.

    Song Caiwei listened to the sound of falling snow, fumbled and picked up the wooden comb on the table, and dropped the comb into her hair.

    Before the comb touched my hair, the comb was suddenly taken away by another person.

    Song Caiwei was slightly stunned when her fingertips came up empty.

    It¡¯s Fu Hui.

    Fu Hui and Song Zhenxia have always been able to enter and exit the palace freely.  Song Caiwei lived in the East Courtyard, and Fu Hui often came to visit her in the East Courtyard. The servants in the palace were already accustomed to this.

    The state of Wei was open to the public. Widows could still remarry, and married women could be reconciled and divorced.  Therefore, private meetings between men and women are nothing unusual.  If they are in love and get married, it can be a good story.  Even if they didn't become husband and wife later, it wouldn't be a big deal. At most, they just broke up and were happy on their own.

    At this moment, the young man with dark hair and handsome face held a wooden comb in one hand and lifted up a strand of Song Caiwei's hair with the other hand.  There was a sachet tied around his waist. The aroma of Du Heng mixed with the scent of kaempferol lingered around him slightly, it was light and pleasant.

    "This time, when did Brother Fu come in? I didn't hear Brother Fu's footsteps at all." Song Caiwei tightened her cuffs with her hands, and there was a green smile on the corner of her lips.

    "I just came here not long ago." Fu Hui held up her long hair with his fingers and inserted the comb teeth into her cloud-like hair: "I saw that Aru was sleeping soundly and didn't want to wake her up, so I took it easy.  pace."

    There was a white bandage wrapped on the finger holding his hair.

    He slowly combed the hair of the blind woman in front of him, and then placed the comb on the desk.  Then, he fumbled for a wooden hairpin from his sleeve and wanted to put it into Song Caiwei's bun.

    Fu Hui¡¯s slender fingers fell on Song Caiwei¡¯s slightly slanted temples.

    At this time, Song Caiwei's body suddenly stiffened.

    She became nervous, pushed Fu Hui's hand away with some resistance, and then carefully touched her temples.

    She was already wearing a hairpin, which was a silver hairpin wrapped with banana leaves that Jiang Lingzhou found for her in the forest. It was also a relic left to her by Song Caiwei's mother.

    At this moment, she touched the silver hairpin wrapped with banana leaves with her fingers, breathed a sigh of relief, and said with shame: "Brother Fu, this hairpin was left to me by my mother. She asked me to wear it close to my body and never leave it. So I  ¡­¡±

    "So, I was the one who was rude." Fu Hui was stunned for a moment, then smiled with relief: "Since it is a relic left by your mother to you, you should wear it carefully.  I originally thought that you often only wear this hairpin, so I replaced it myself.  You made a hairpin."

    Song Caiwei was slightly surprised when she heard Fu Hui's words.

    She asked cautiously: "Did Brother Fu make a hairpin for me?"

    "Yes." Fu Hui smiled gently and handed the wooden hairpin in his hand to Song Caiwei's palm: "It's just that I'm clumsy and can't carve those beautiful patterns, so the style of the hairpin will inevitably be a bit clumsy."

    Song Caiwei¡¯s eyes, which had been closed, moved slightly, and a watery smile gradually appeared on her face.  She groped for the wooden hairpin in her palm with her slender fingertips, identifying the rough patterns carved on the hairpin one by one.

    It looks like a small branch of half-opened plum blossom, with the stamens carefully carved out.

    Song Caiwei's fingers slid forward from the tail of the hairpin carved into a plum blossom branch, slid over the head of the hairpin, and finally landed on the back of Fu Hui's fingers.  By accident, Song Caiwei touched the bandage on Fu Hui's hand.

    She immediately exclaimed softly: "Brother Fu, your hand is injured?"

    "Yes." Fu Hui's smile was a little bitter: "Hui is really clumsy, and he was very clumsy when carving this hairpin, and that's why he hurt his hand."

    Song Caiwei frowned slightly when she heard this.  As if she was complaining, she said softly, "Be more careful next time." After a while, she laughed again, as if she had a sweet taste.

    Seeing her gentle smile, Fu Hui's eyes became softer.

    It¡¯s a pity that the blind girl in front of him cannot see the spring breeze in his eyes.

    |||

    In the Zhong Mansion, Xiao Junchi and Jiang Lingzhou took their seats.

    This clock??

    "The world is so big, what kind of man is not good to marry, but why do you want to be a concubine?"

    While Zhong Xiaoyan was hesitating, Mrs. Zhong opened her mouth to answer with a smile on her face: "We, Yan'er, have admired a man since childhood. All we want in this life is to marry that man. I wonder if the prince can"

    Before Mrs. Zhong finished speaking, Xiao Junchi replied calmly: "No."

    Mrs. Zhong¡¯s eyes suddenly widened.

    "What does the prince mean by this?" Zhong Xian asked.

    "Oh, I think there is a better poem here." Xiao Junchi replied.

    "Whatwhat sentence?" Zhong Xian felt a little guilty.

    Zhong Xian calmed down and thought: If the other sons in the family take the lead, let them find a concubine position for Zhong Xiaoyan.

    "This sentence." Xiao Junchi leisurely picked out a page and read slowly: "The heart has no worries, so there are no worries, so there is no fear. Stay away from upside-down dreams, and finally achieve nirvana. Wonderful, wonderful."

    The Zhong family was silent.

    ¡­"Prajna Heart Sutra"?  ?

    What kind of snow appreciation poem is this?  Who, who did it?

    Over there, Xiao Junchi finalized the song and said, "That's it. If the mind has no image, seeing five colors and five desires, but having no worries, this is the realm of transcending reincarnation, which is enough to convince me."

    "But, Your Majesty," Zhong Xian struggled desperately: "This poem is not about snow"

    "If I say it is the first, then it is the first." Xiao Junchi said, "What do you think, Mr. Zhong?"

    ¡­Who dares to show his high opinion in front of King Jingling?  (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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