Empress, your husband is invincible

The Phoenix Palace has been cleaned up again.

All the utensils that were broken last night have been replaced with new ones.

The desk has also been replaced with a pair of pineapple flower wood, and the flowing cloud edge pattern looks extremely luxurious.

When Ye Cheng put the box he was carrying on the desk, he inadvertently saw a piece of white rice paper spread out on the edge of the desk on the other side, and on the rice paper was a poem with only one line in it.

Ye Cheng went around to the other side and leaned over to take a look, and couldn't help but read aloud:

"Morning dew first sells out..."

Frowning slightly, Ye Cheng seemed to see Ling Xuejian who was holding a brush and contemplating deeply.

This verse is just like current state affairs, and like Ling Xuejian's current situation...

The country's affairs are difficult, and we can only hope that there will be fewer disasters and fewer ambitious people.

However, Ling Xuejian bears the heavy burden, but is trapped by the family, rebellion, and the party. He can only hope that there are loyal people who can share it...

Feeling pain for no reason, Ye Cheng sat down cross-legged, picked up the Langhao pen on the inkstone tray beside him, and after a moment of thought, he began to write, writing the preface to that broken poem.

"The morning dew is sold out until the sun dwindles, and the rain falls when the fields are barren.

The lonely shadow of a thin horse is three thousand miles away, and when it comes back, it's waiting..."

After writing the last word, Ye Cheng couldn't finish writing.

Feeling restless, Ye Cheng simply put this piece of rice paper aside, took another piece of rice paper, and waved it casually.

"The golden bottle of sake is worth ten thousand dollars, and the jade plate is worth ten thousand dollars.

Stopping the cup and throwing the chopsticks, he couldn't eat.

To cross the Yellow River Bingsaichuan, will climb Taihanghang snow-covered mountains.

Come leisurely fishing on Bixi, suddenly take a boat dream day.

Hard to travel!Hard to travel!
How different is it, today?
There will be times when the wind and the waves cleave, hang the clouds and sail straight to the sea! "

After the famous poem "The Journey Is Difficult", the gloom in Ye Cheng's heart eased a little.

Taking a deep breath, Ye Cheng put "The Difficult Journey" aside, spread out a piece of rice paper again, and continued to write.

"Eastern wind puts flowers and thousands of trees at night, blows them down, and stars are like rain.

BMW engraves the car and the road is full of fragrance.

The phoenix flute sounded, the jade pot turned light, and the fish and dragon danced overnight.

The golden strands of moth snow willow, the smile is full of fragrance.

People look for him thousands of Baidu.

Looking back suddenly, the man was there, in a dimly lit place. "

After writing the "Sapphire Case", the depression in Ye Cheng's heart completely dissipated.

Staring at the last sentence "Suddenly looking back, the man is there, in a dimly lit place", Ling Xuejian's peerless face reappeared in Ye Cheng's mind for no reason.

Moving "Sapphire Case" aside, Ye Cheng spread out another piece of rice paper.

After pondering for a while, he continued to wave his brush.

But this time, he didn't copy poetry.

Holding the Langhao pen carefully, controlling every bit of strength in his wrist, Ye Cheng didn't even dare to breathe, and wrote carefully.

With a hook of Ye Cheng's wrist, a graceful curve suddenly appeared on the rice paper.

With a swipe, a jaw line was immediately outlined...

But as the jaw line appeared on the paper, Ye Cheng suddenly stopped writing——

There is no other reason, it is because he found that his painting skills are too bad...

It’s okay to use martial arts to control the strength to write brush characters, but if you want to paint, it’s like carving patterns on tofu with a big axe—a man’s mother opens the door, it’s "difficult" to get home...

Tilting his head and pursing his lips, Ye Cheng couldn't write for a long time.

"What? Can't draw any more?"

A silver bell-like teasing sound suddenly sounded beside him. Ye Cheng was startled. With a flick of his wrist, a drop of ink immediately dripped onto the paper, forming a cloud...

Even without looking up, Ye Cheng knew that Ling Xuejian was back.

But seeing that he secretly painted her and made a mess of the drawing, Ye Cheng couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed, and raised his head and said:

"You man, when did you learn to walk without making a sound?"

Ling Xuejian was obviously in a good mood, with his hands behind his back and his head tilted, looking at him with crooked eyebrows, he joked:
"What? You are a thief in my bedroom, and you still complain that my master didn't say hello when he came back?"

Ye Cheng was speechless immediately.

Turning his eyes, Ye Cheng raised his eyebrows and looked at her:
"You seem to be in a good mood, have you received the victory report?"

Ling Xuejian nodded, and waved the handkerchief towards him.

"I was discussing this matter with Zhuang Shangshu in the imperial study.

Have you gone to Wuhou Mansion? "

Asking casually, when she turned her head, Ling Xuejian saw the "Sapphire Case" beside her, and her face was startled.

Throwing the silk cloth to Ye Cheng, Ling Xuejian walked around to the other side of him without waiting for him to refuse, picked up the rice paper and looked at it carefully.

"Dongfeng night puts flowers and thousands of trees... but the man is there, in a place where the lights are dim..."

Recited unconsciously, after a long silence, Ling Xuejian turned to look at Ye Cheng.

"You wrote this poem?"

Ye Cheng didn't blush, and nodded without his heart beating.

Anyway, there is no big counselor (Song) in this world, let alone Xin Jiaxuan, so it doesn't matter if I borrow this song for the time being...

Under the "Sapphire Case" was "Difficult to Journey", Ling Xuejian took a deep look at him, and immediately picked up "Difficult to Journey".

"...Divergent roads, where are you today?

There will be times when the wind and the waves cleave, hang the clouds and sail straight to the sea! "

After reading "The Difficult Journey", Ling Xuejian was silent for a longer time.

Ye Cheng held the silk cloth, he knew that this was probably the victory battle report written by Wuhou Zhuang Xiaoyun himself...

But he, who was particularly interested in these things on weekdays, was completely indifferent to it at the moment, and just looked at Ling Xuejian with anxiety.

Ling Xuejian didn't even look at him.

When Ye Cheng looked at Ling Xuejian, he was always very careful.

Ling Xuejian's palms are white and tender, and he hardly sees the existence of fine hairs on weekdays, but at this moment, he saw a thin layer of fine hairs standing up out of thin air on the back of Ling Xuejian's hands...

For no reason, Ye Cheng thought of the slender fluff of a dandelion...

With trembling wrists, she solemnly put down "The Road Is Difficult", and Ling Xuejian bowed and picked up the last piece of rice paper that was pressed down by these two pieces.

On this piece of rice paper, the first thing that caught my eye was the line of verse written by her own hand.

After looking at it carefully, the corners of Ling Xuejian's mouth slowly raised, holding up the rice paper and looking at Ye Cheng with a smile.

"In vain, I thought you were really an immortal poet. It turns out that you also write mediocre and incomplete poems?"

Seeing her smiling sweetly, Ye Cheng lost his mind for a moment.

After recovering, looking at Ling Xuejian with slightly red cheeks, Ye Cheng suddenly felt playful:
"Isn't this someone's continuation? Poor writing, how can you blame me?"

Ling Xuejian's face froze, and she wrinkled her nose in disbelief.

Seeing this, Ye Cheng smiled calmly, and picked up the Langhao brush again:
"However, thanks to your smile just now, I think about the last 'poetic eye'..."

Ling Xuejian raised her eyebrows, "It's as if someone didn't think about it."

"No peeking."

Ye Cheng glanced at her, picked up a piece of rice paper and turned around.

Ling Xuejian raised her brows slightly in anger.

Ye Cheng quickly finished writing the last time, and handed the Langhao pen to her.

Ling Xuejian glanced at him.Dafangfang bent down and moved his pen slowly.

As he moved his pen, the word "you" was filled in at the end of the poem.

"...and wait for the return and wait for the Lord."