Madam, don't do this!

Chapter 55 Song Yan Must Die Too (Another 4,000, Please Read)
Zhao Anze and Lu Changqing obviously didn't care about these trivial matters.

The two men's faces were so stern that even if someone wanted to cause trouble for Song Yan, they wouldn't dare to act rashly. As for Cui Shian, his eyes were playful, looking from Song Yan to Song Yun. No one knew what this rich man was thinking.

"Let's go."

Zhao Anze patted Song Yan's shoulder and walked towards Qun Yuyuan, not to the second or third floor, but to the backyard.

"Mr. Zhao, where are you going? Why don't you just have tea in this hall..."

In Ningguo, it is correct to call an old man who is not related to you "Lao", and it is also OK to call him "Gong", and together they mean "husband"... Song Yan complained.

"This is a lowly place. I don't care about it." Old Zhao said with a smile. Cui Shian sighed helplessly, took out a few gold leaves from his pocket, and handed them to the old man beside him. The old man stopped trying to stop them and let them enter the backyard.

When I got to the back, my eyes suddenly lit up.

Probably, not many guests are qualified to enter the backyard. Looking up, although it is not as luxurious as the front hall, it is also quiet and elegant. There is a pond with a small bridge over the pond and a pavilion at the end of the bridge.

The sun shines on the water, and occasionally a breeze blows, rippling the water and swaying the lotus leaves on the water.

It is still the season when lotus flowers bloom. Many frogs are wandering in the lake, and some toads are lying on the lotus leaves, croaking.

This scene reminded Song Yan of a poem by a certain Marshal:

Daming Lake, Daming Lake is big,
There are lotus flowers in Daming Lake;
There are toads on the lotus flowers,
One poke and it jumps!

Thinking about it this way, I found it interesting and couldn't help laughing out loud.

Lu Changqing stroked his beard and asked, "Why are you laughing, young man?"

He then read out the masterpiece he had just thought of, and the two elders could not help laughing and scolding him for being disrespectful to society. Zhang Zongchang's poems were certainly not worthy of the attention of these ancients, but looking at the scene before them, they were quite appropriate.

"By the way, what did Mr. Zhao mean by the next place?" After laughing for a while, Song Yan remembered this and asked.

Both Mr. Lu and Mr. Zhao's eyes lit up, and they began to explain the situation in the brothel as if they were experienced clients.

After hearing the explanations from the two old men, Song Yan gradually understood that the floors in the brothel were also divided into different levels. Generally speaking, the lowest rooms were called Xiachu. Most of the women here had no talents and only sold their bodies. They were older but skilled.

The interior decoration is simple, focusing mainly on practicality, and is mostly used to entertain vendors and wealthy people.

The better ones are called tea rooms. The women here are young and beautiful. Guests can drink tea, listen to music, and appreciate calligraphy and painting here. The decoration inside the tea room also pays attention to certain aesthetic designs, such as carvings and bright dyes, which are unique. They mainly entertain middle and lower-level officials, children of nobles and wealthy merchants.

The best room is called Qingyin Class.

The girls here are not only beautiful, but also proficient in music, chess, calligraphy and painting. They can also recite poems and songs at will. The decoration is exquisite and the style is extraordinary. In name, they sell their art and not their bodies, but if you have enough money, it is generally possible. Those who can enter here are real upper-class celebrities, middle and high-level officials with real power, top nobles, wealthy families, and wealthy businessmen cannot enter no matter how rich they are.

"So where are we going?"

Mr. Zhao laughed: "Bookhouse!"

This is what makes Qun Yu Yuan different from ordinary brothels. Above Qing Yin Xiao Ban, there is a special place called Shu Yu! This is not just a place of entertainment, but an elegant place full of wisdom and art!

Only guests approved by Qun Yuyuan are allowed to enter.

To put it bluntly, the difference between ordinary members, VIP, and SVIP is similar to that of a certain penguin.

They crossed the small bridge while chatting and laughing.

Looking up, there is a low attic not far away, surrounded by bamboos. The Xiangfei bamboo leaves collect the rain, and the water drops fall onto the white porcelain to collect the dew.

There is a woman in front of the attic!

She was in her twenties, tall and graceful, with an oval face and long black hair tied up with a simple band, hanging down to her waist. Her pretty face had the fragility and beauty of the Jiangnan water town. She was obviously a girl from Qun Yuyuan, but she didn't have the slightest worldly air of a seductive woman. Instead, one look at her made people feel pity for her.

Song Yan frowned slightly, then relaxed his brows. He glanced at the woman and then looked away.

There are many beauties in this world, but this is the second time Song Yan has met someone who makes him feel pity at first sight. The first time was with Song Zhen’s future fiancée, Yang Siyao.

Could this woman be from the Hehuan Sect?
Could it be that the Qun Yu Garden is run by the Hehuan Sect?

Is this considered a professional match?

Song Yan looked at the two old men with some resentment: "Why are you two bullying me?"

"Bully you? How could that be?"

"Didn't you say we shouldn't call each other girls..."

Zhao Anze waved his hand: "We didn't call her a girl."

"Then this..."

"Whether you come or not, the girl is here anyway. What does it have to do with us?"

Song Yan was stunned. This was such a philosophical statement.

But how could a person be so shameless? Meanwhile, Cui Shian smiled and shook his head, as if he was used to it.

There was a desk in front of the woman with a piece of white paper spread on it.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she stared at the words on the white paper. Perhaps so absorbed in her concentration, even the sound of footsteps didn't startle her. When she got closer, she discovered a poem on the white paper: "Falling flowers, a solitary figure; gentle rain, swallows fly in pairs." Her delicate white hand grasped a brush dipped in ink, as if she wanted to complete the poem, but didn't know how to begin. The ink dripped from the tip of the brush, staining the white paper with a dark smudge.

It wasn't until several people came up to her and their shadows fell on the paper that the woman woke up. She looked up and smiled. In an instant, it was as if hundreds of flowers were blooming, and the whole courtyard was brightened up.

"Mr. Zhao, Mr. Lu, Mr. Cui..."

It seems that there are not two but three people who are qualified to enter the book house.

"How come you three have the time to come to Mingyue?" The woman's voice was soft and languid, with an indescribable stickiness that sounded very comfortable. Without waiting for the three to answer, she looked at Song Yan and said, "I wonder if this young master..."

Zhao Anze smiled but didn't answer directly. Instead, he pointed at the blank paper on the desk and asked, "Miss Mingyue, do you want to complete this poem?"

Mingyue nodded slightly: "Indeed." The expression on her face turned sad again: "It's just that I don't know where to start. Although Mingyue has some thoughts in her mind, every time she wants to write them down, she feels that they are not worthy of this sentence." Zhao Anze smiled even more: "In that case, why not let the real owner come over."

Mingyue's eyes suddenly brightened. She was very smart and understood what this meant. She immediately bowed to Song Yan and said, "I didn't expect it to be Mr. Song. It was Mingyue who neglected him."

"I wonder if Mingyue would be lucky enough to appreciate the entire poem?"

"I'm a bastard who's been imprisoned for ten years and never had any teacher to teach me, so how could I possibly understand poetry?" Song Yan smiled and said, "As I said, this poem was written by my brother Song Yun, and I only got a fragment of it by chance, not the whole poem."

Her big eyes were immediately filled with disappointment, and even Song Yan felt guilty, as if he was some kind of heartless and unfaithful person. Song Yan increasingly suspected that Mingyue was a disciple of the Hehuan Sect. She was simply a demon.

Old Zhao and Old Lu just laughed and scolded. Although they didn't know why Song Yan insisted on attributing this poem to Song Yun, since he was unwilling to reveal it, they stopped forcing him.

Cui Shian, who was standing next to him, frowned and thought for a few breaths before speaking: "Ten taels of silver."

Song Yan shook his head: "Brother Cui, why do you want to humiliate me like this? Although I, Song Yan, am only a son-in-law, I will not bow down for ten taels of silver."

Cui Shian spread his hands and smiled bitterly: "There's nothing I can do. If my third sister knew that I met you but couldn't get the poem back, my life would not be easy."

"Fifty taels."

"Brother Cui, who do you take me for?"

"Ten gold leaves."

Blinking his eyes, Song Yan sighed helplessly: "Forget it, forget it, it's because Brother Cui and I hit it off right away. It's not because of the gold leaves, but mainly because I can't bear to see Brother Cui being blamed."

"This guy..."

Lu Changqing and Zhao Anze both laughed and scolded. If they were disciples of Song Yan, they would have been severely scolded for such behavior.

What about the character of literati?
Why not bow down for ten taels of silver?
Mingyue quickly made way, took away the original white paper and prepared the brush, standing aside very obediently. It seemed as if little stars could be seen in her big, sparkling eyes... It must be said that this kind of look really makes a man feel satisfied.

This is a woman who knows how to use her advantages.

The fingers pinched the brush, and after a brief pause, the tip of the brush fell.

"Linjiangxian..."

"It turned out to be a poem, but I guessed wrong." Mingyue murmured.

Zhao Anze and Lu Changqing looked at Song Yan in surprise: "Good handwriting."

The handwriting is thin and strong, so thin that it does not lose its flesh. The flowing parts show grace and elegance, while the sharp parts show unyielding pride and strength, able to cut through gold and jade.

Both Mr. Zhao and Mr. Lu are masters of calligraphy, but they have never seen such a style of calligraphy before. It is unique and even has the bearing of a master. They can't help but be surprised. Writing is different from poetry. Poetry relies on inspiration, while writing relies on years of practice. It is probably impossible to write like Song Yan without decades of practice. But the boy in front of them is only in his teens. Even if he has been practicing calligraphy since his mother's womb, it would be too late, right?

But it is the Songti style, a type of calligraphy that has not yet appeared in this world.

Song Huizong was not a very good emperor. In the two thousand years of Chinese history, perhaps only Ming Baozong could compete with him.

However, his attainments in calligraphy and painting were quite good. He learned from Xue Yao and mixed the styles of various schools. His original Slender Gold style can be said to have led an era.

Song Yan didn't care about other people's gazes, and wrote again:
"After the dream, the tower is locked, after the wine is drunk, the curtains are lowered."

"Last year, when spring came, hatred came..."

The surroundings had become quiet, only Song Yan was writing furiously. Just a few sentences had already outlined a clear picture in Mingyue's mind.

"Fallen flowers, a lone man..."

At this moment, Song Yan suddenly paused, his expression becoming particularly strange. He looked at the two elders, then at Cui Shian and Mingyue, and an image of a son-in-law named Ning appeared in his mind:
"What do you think would happen if I changed this line to 'A fallen flower stands alone, hanging itself on a southeastern branch'?"

Elder Zhao, Elder Lu, Cui Shian, and Mingyue were all slightly stunned. After a few breaths, Elder Lu was the first to curse, "How dare you, you brat!"

"It's an insult to elegance, it's an insult to elegance!"

Cui Shian clapped his hands and laughed, "I think it's quite good. I'm already alone and alone. I might as well just find a rope and hang myself up."

"Then I guess half of the people in Ningguo will die!"

Mingyue also gave Song Yan a reproachful look, her eyes were very seductive.

……

In the main hall of Qun Yuyuan, Song Yun, faintly reeking of alcohol, clasped his fists and bid farewell to his friends. After everyone had left, Song Yun let out a breath, but the curve of his mouth was a little hard to suppress.

His mother had been very kind to him recently, and he was the only one from the Song family to attend the Qixi Festival party. This should be considered a sign that his mother's support was gradually shifting towards him.

But this is far from enough.

After all, now that Song Zhen is disabled, his competitors become his eldest brother Song Huai and sixth brother Song Zhe, one the eldest son and the other a talented child.

He had no advantage over these two; all he needed now was fame. Now, the poem was completely plagiarized on him. Thinking of his classmates' praise, Song Yun's smile widened. He wasn't afraid of Song Yan standing up to confront him, unless Song Yan could produce the entire poem, which was obviously impossible. But he still felt at peace only if he died.

He cannot leave any loopholes.

Therefore, Song Yan must die!
Song Yun started planning in his mind, wondering how he could get rid of Song Yan legally and reasonably without bringing suspicion upon himself. Undoubtedly, putting the blame on Song Zhen was the best option, as he had done before.

Thinking of this, Song Yun walked towards the street.

Song Yun, who was concentrating on thinking, did not notice that in a carriage not far away, a pair of bloodshot eyes were staring at him.

Holding the jade pendant tightly in his fingers, Song Zhen grinned like a mad dog:
"Follow me!"

The second chapter of 4,000 words is here for you. I have created a group, 1037561068, anyone who wants to come is welcome.

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(End of this chapter)