He Shan is lucky to meet an old friend

It is said that Qu Qianqiu was not originally called Qu Qianqiu. I can’t remember when and what month he wrote a poem based on the name of Qu Qianqiu. It was sung in the streets and alleys. Over time, people also forgot his name and only called him Qu Qianqiu.

Or anyone who admires his talent and fame, just say Mr. Qianqiu.

It's the one song that can tell the story of thousands of years, pitching the sky and the earth as an empty boat.

In all fairness, this que is quite well written.

It needs artistic conception to have artistic conception, and emotion to have emotion. The most important thing is that it vividly expresses the aloofness of a literati.

No wonder so many people praised it.

Xie Qinglin told him the whole story.

At the end, Song Xingqiao clicked his tongue and said: "This person actually thought of such a way to force you, it seems that he is not afraid of death."

Song Xingqiao had heard of it in Luojing, Qu Qianqiu was a very noble scholar.

Heh, he sneered in his heart, if he really had no desires and desires, how could he come up with such a sinister idea, he had already offered advice and suggestions for Xu Guanhai, so why should he be so arrogant.

It's better to be honest, and don't look down on people in the officialdom, they are all seeking fame and fortune, and who is superior to others.

Song Xingqiao is also a freak, no one around His Royal Highness is not afraid of him, but he is an exception.

Song Xingqiao had red lips and white teeth when he was a child, Yuxue was cute, just like a girl, she always loved to pester the prince and elder brother, Xie Qinglin was also spoiled by him, and she didn't see any sex when she grew up.

Xie Qinglin pursed her lips tightly, wondering what she was thinking.

Know the state.

Xu Guanhai sat in front of the desk with a pen in his hand, his brows were furrowed, he wrote on the white paper cautiously, stopping every word, almost holding back.

After a while, the ink on the nib of the pen was dry, and the writing was stagnant. He put down the pen with a long sigh, picked up the paper with few words and looked at it carefully for a while, then rubbed it expressionlessly.

It was at this point that no one could save him.

So what if he told that person?Will that person really save her?

Although he donated a lot of snowflake silver every year, without Xu Guanhai, there would still be Li Guanhai, Zhou Guanhai... a lot of people lined up to serve him.

He took out another piece of paper, this time he didn't intend to ask anyone for help, he just planned to explain what happened behind him. I can't run away either.

He didn't even have to write a suicide note.

How can he guarantee that he won't end up with a lot of gangsters?

If he wrote it, to whom did he write it.

Even so, he carefully dried the ink.

He walked to the east wall and looked around. Although he knew that no one would come into this room, he couldn't get rid of his paranoia after all these years.

He pressed a few times on the plain wall, and the flat wall slowly sagged. He put the paper in, let out a long sigh of relief, and he didn't know where to press, and the wall returned to its original shape.

After finishing all this, he turned his head and put away his pen and ink, and then slowly walked out of this small, dark room.

On the other side, Jiang Yunjin's residence.

Jiang Yunjin was sitting on a low couch made of red sandalwood with folded branches and plum blossoms, Lan Ting was held by her hand, and stood obediently in front of her.

"We are going to Wuxiang Temple." Jiang Yun said softly.

Lan Ting's skin is pale, even after a good birth these days, it hasn't recovered, and the blue blood vessels under the skin can still be easily seen.Jiang Yunjin never dared to touch this child lightly, just like treating a piece of porcelain that would break at the touch of a touch.

But in fact, since Lan Ting can't feel pain, it doesn't matter how much force he uses.

Although he is ignorant, he seems to know everything.

"Do you want to go?" Even though Lan Ting has answered this question clearly many times, she still asks it again and again.

After all, she wanted to send him to suffer, and she was always facing the risk of death.

If he doesn't want to go, she won't force him.

Lan Ting blinked her eyes, pulled out her hand, and touched her face carefully.

The cold touch on her face startled her.

"Sister, don't feel sorry for me anymore, it's my greatest blessing to meet you."

She was on the verge of tears again.

A bamboo pavilion outside the city.

When Qu Qianqiu arrived late, there was already a woman in a snow gauze dress waiting here.

When the woman saw him coming, her brows remained calm, she didn't look happy, she didn't even make a gesture of getting up to greet him.

Qu Qianqiu didn't care too much, took out the wine cup that she carried with her, and began to drink.

It seemed like a long time before he spoke softly.

"Xiangyin, why are you doing this?"

"After that, we'd better not see each other again."

She covered her face with her hands, I'm really tired, she thought.

Wuxiang Temple in Wuxiang Mountain.

No one knows how old the abbot of Wuxiang Temple is. When everyone sees him, he always looks like this, with white beard and hair, and an old appearance. Year after year, young monks are getting old one after another, and there are new ones. When people came in, the abbot remained the same.

Under the watchful eyes of the gods and Buddhas, the old monk sighed, and said slowly, the person I was waiting for finally came.

"Boom-"

The bell rang.

He put down the wooden fish in his hand.

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