If I fail to overcome the tribulation, I can only return to the Ming Dynasty and become a prince.

Chapter 18 Qin Huai Listening to Music
On the Qinhuai River, a painted boat went down the river. The boatman did not paddle, but held the rudder to steady the direction, relying solely on the current to push the boat forward slowly.

A singer on the boat was singing a soft tune in soft Wu dialect. She held a pipa in her arms and played it from time to time. She acted as an accompaniment with two musicians on the side. Although there was no formal dance music, it still had a unique flavor.

At the bow of the boat, two fishing rods were hung into the water, and the buoys swayed with the waves. After a while, the buoy of one of the fishing rods sank, indicating that a fish had bitten the hook.

A pair of fat hands hurriedly pulled up the fishing rod and pulled up a silver carp less than a foot long from the water and threw it on the board of the boat. It bounced twice before being taken off the hook by the servant serving on the side and put it in. into the fish basket on the side.

"Son, can you do it? Dad, this is my third fish. You can't catch a fish all morning and you don't have to eat it at noon! We have agreed that whoever catches it will have something to eat at noon. If you don't catch anything, you will be hungry." Zhu Gaochi was satisfied and put on the bait again under the service of the servants on the side. He swung the fishing rod and threw the hook into the river again.

Zhu Zhanchun on the side also lifted up the fishing rod. He didn't care when he saw that the bait on the hook had been eaten. After reinstalling the bait, he also threw the hook back into the river, but he did not hold it with his hands. He just inserted the fishing rod under the chair where he was sitting, and continued to listen intently to the songs of the singing girls on the boat.

While listening, Zhu Zhanjun also said to his fat father: "Dad, with such beautiful scenery and full moonlight, boating on the river, sparkling waves, silk and bamboo orchestra and Wu Nong's soft words, you are always only thinking about what happened at noon. Belly? Indecent, indecent!"

As he spoke, Zhu Zhanjun started to shake his head, and Zhu Gaochi who was watching on the side was very angry with him.

"Okay, you've been sleeping for eight years to light fires for the Antarctic Immortal. You've become more capable, right? Your wings have hardened, and now you're scolding your father and I'm here? Believe it or not, I'll spank you!" Zhu Gaochi said casually, although in his words He seemed dissatisfied, but the smile on his face showed his mood.

Zhu Zhanjun didn't care, just smiled and stopped talking.

Today is a good day. The sun is shining, and the Qinhuai River is sparkling. The sun warms Zhu Zhanquan's whole body, and makes him feel a little lazy.

However, when the singer on the boat finished singing a song, he raised his hand and interrupted the singer who was about to continue singing the next song. He stretched lazily and then said: "The song is the same every time I sing it. Is there any unique music?"

Hearing Zhu Zhanquan's question, the singer who had been singing all morning naturally did not dare to neglect, and quickly replied: "I dare not deceive you, the slave club does not have many songs, and the nobles are not willing to listen to sad songs, and the slave club really does not have other songs. But if you sing it, please forgive me."

Although the Qinhuai River is just a place for fireworks, because it is close to the Ming Dynasty, all the people coming and going are dignitaries and wealthy businessmen. Although the father and son Zhu Gaochi and Zhu Zhanjuan did not reveal their identities, they could tell at a glance because of their demeanor. Being a noble person naturally makes the singer dare not show any slightness.

When Zhu Zhanju heard this, he shook his head and sighed: "Okay, I don't blame you. After all, a good piece of music is also a skill of eating. Who would be willing to teach me if I haven't served the master for three years?" What about your housekeeping skills?"

This is the most criticized point in the ancient master-disciple inheritance. Any innovative or unique methods will be hidden tightly, and will not be easily passed on to the disciples who have not inherited the mantle.

But this is not a matter of self-preservation, but a literal eating skill.

The flow of information in this era is far less developed than the modern society before Zhu Zhanquan traveled through time. Craftsman skills were denounced by Confucian scholar-bureaucrats as strange skills and cunning. All skills can only be passed down orally without writing. It is difficult to understand a unique technology. It can really feed a family.It would be fine if you teach it to an apprentice who inherits the mantle, but if someone else learns it, it will take away your own job.

Especially when the master is old and can no longer work, most of them will rely on the apprentice who learned their skills to support him until his death. If the apprentice is unfilial, the master will most likely die of starvation or have a miserable life.

A church disciple starving his master to death is not a mocking word these days, but a cold reality in a literal sense.

And in this land of fireworks on the Qinhuai River, a unique piece of music can make you stand out and earn more money. It is the ability to truly make a living. Who would teach it to others easily?

Even the song the singer sings is a craft inherited from her family, and the musicians accompanying her are her family members and masters.

"What's wrong? You're having a good time fishing and listening to music, and you're sighing." Zhu Gaochi didn't pay attention to the conversation between his son and the singer, but he heard him sigh, so he asked curiously.

Zhu Zhanjun did not explain, but just waved his hand and said: "I just thought of Marshal Yue who died in Fengbo Pavilion. Father, do you think that if Marshal Yue could really go straight to Huanglong to regain the lost territory, what would the world be like?"

"I don't know what the world is like, but I know that our old Zhu family must still be farming in our hometown of Fengyang." Zhu Gaochi curled his lips and was very disdainful of Zhu Zhanquan's assumption: "Marshal Yue is certainly a loyal minister of his generation. A good general is respected by people all over the world, but if he really regains the lost territory and goes straight to Huanglong, the Meng Yuan Dynasty may not be able to win the Song Dynasty, and there will be nothing wrong with the Ming Dynasty."

As a royal child, although Zhu Gaochi received Confucian education since childhood, he is a qualified prince. He knows that the stories of these loyal ministers and good generals can be heard and praised, and even in the future after he succeeds to the throne, he can offer sacrifices to gods and make the world People learn.

But my family must correct their mentality and understand that the so-called loyal ministers and good generals are loyal to their Lao Zhu family.

Zhu Zhanjuan was naturally able to hear what his father meant. He smiled and didn't care. He just put down the fishing rod in his hand, waved to the singer in the cabin, and said to her: "Little girl, can you tell a story?"

"I don't know how. I have only learned singing since I was a child. I have never been taught storytelling at home." The little singer quickly replied, and at the same time recommended to Zhu Zhanquan: "If you want to listen to storytelling, I know a few A good storyteller, what do you want to hear?"

However, Zhu Zhanquan waved his hand and said jokingly to the little singer: "I don't really want to hear anything. They are just telling the usual stories about loyal ministers and filial sons, nothing new."

Immediately, Zhu Zhanquan seemed to have remembered something, and asked the little singer: "How about this, you teach me the music you know, and I teach you a book?"

(End of this chapter)