I am Feng Jun

Chapter 106 106. Heh, it's better to run away
"Shen Nanzhu!"

Shen Yinchu seemed to have been poked in the sore foot, and there was some anger in it.

Shen Nanzhu is no longer the little girl who could only watch her father die tragically.

Facing the angry Shen Yinchu at this time, she wasn't timid at all, and her voice became more and more cold.

"Mother, even if you don't care about this son, your daughter still cares about this brother.

No matter what you think, I won't let him get hurt in the slightest! "

After finishing speaking, Shen Nanzhu turned around to leave, and reminded Shen Yinchu before leaving.

"Mother, if someone asks, remember that Ah Ci should be recuperating in Zhuangzi now."

The dark green clothes drew a curve in the air, Shen Yinchu looked at Shen Nanzhu's leaving back, and his raised hand dropped powerlessly.

Fu sat back on the chair and rubbed the space between his brows.

After a long time, Shen Yinchu slowly raised his eyes, looking out of the window at the silhouette of plants and trees in the shape of a human being reflected on the window.

I can't help but think back to the boy who smiled like a spring breeze I met back then.

And since she married him into the family, she seldom saw him smile again!

"This deep house compound is just a prison cell for them!"

This is the conclusion she has drawn over the past 20 years.

This is still the case for the Shen residence.

Then, what about Donggong?
What about the palace?
Are you happy that Ah Ci is there?

Shen Yinchu couldn't help but sighed.

Although Mu Yuanxi, the emperor's daughter, was taught by herself.

But, do you really understand her?
Will that empress who has been so calm and intelligent since she was a child treat Ah Ci sincerely?

Oh, it's better to run away...

Yun Sheng hated the change in style of writing, but this did not prevent those who didn't buy it on the first day from continuing to snap up it on the second day.

Although Shen Ci has tried his best to rely on the original owner of the style of writing, there will always be some differences.

But this is harmless, and no one can guess from this point that the old man Xici has changed his mind.

Immediately remembered a few poems, Shen Ci began to work as a porter again.

Miao Miao watched Shen Ci write down several poems on the paper as if she was writing with spirit, she was a little surprised but also a little curious.

"Grandpa Ci, are you left-handed?"

The speed at which the left hand writes is almost an afterimage.

How afraid that the poem will be forgotten!
"Left-handed? Not really."

Shen Ci shook his head, and continued to write quickly.

"Then you are?"

Miao Miao asked suspiciously.

Seeing this, Shen Ci changed his right hand to write in Miao Miao's puzzled eyes after he finished writing Tang Di.

Then he wrote a song about the flying cranes on the paper.

Miao Miao's eyes widened as she saw Shen Ci's slender and fair hand holding the Langhao pen, and a completely different script from the previous one jumped out from the paper.

And this kind of operation?

"Ciye, you, two fonts?"

Miao Miao asked hesitantly.

No one has ever seen two handwriting two fonts, and then completely two styles of people.

And they are all beautifully written!

Shen Ci smiled and switched back to his left hand.

He also found it by accident.

He is not left-handed, the original owner should be, his current left hand still retains the muscle memory of the original owner.

Whenever he holds the pen with his left hand, it is a delicate lower script with hairpin flowers.

It was exactly the same as the handwriting on the original owner's handbook he had seen.

When Shen Ci first found out about it, he was still a little happy.

It seems that there is no need to worry about handwriting in the future.

"The left hand belongs to the old man Xi Ci, and the right hand belongs to Shen Ci, understand?"

Shen Ci glanced at Miao Miao.

"Understand, understand!"

Miao Miao nodded like pecking rice, and sighed in her heart, the boss is the boss!

One identity, one handwriting.

After finishing writing the few poems that came to mind, Shen Ci asked Miao Miao.

"How many songs are there now?"

Miao Miao took the manuscripts from Shen Ci and counted them.

"270 three pieces."

In just a few days, I wrote more than 200 poems. This is not a wit, who is a wit!
Xie Meiting has written less than [-] poems since he was born.

Shen Ci rubbed his wrist and nodded upon hearing this.

"Well, that's it, these should be enough for a book of poems."

I really can't remember the rest!
Miao Miao hesitated.

"Ciye, didn't you say three hundred poems, you."

Shen Ci glanced at Miao Miao, the danger level was very high.

"Do you want!"

Don't give it all back to Grandpa!

Take measures!

Miao Miao hugged the manuscript in her arms.

"want!"

This is the treasure of the town store in the future!
Forget it, 270 three is 270 three.

Anyway, no one else knows how many songs there should be.

The first collection of poems of the old man Xici can be promoted!

Miao Miao went out happily holding the manuscript, and was going to hand it over to others for engraving and typesetting.

Shen Ci, who stayed where he was, had deep eyebrows and a pen in his hand.

After counting the days, I think it should be almost the same.

Wait a few more days before you can leave completely.

On the third day of March, Mu Dynasty Spring Festival.

The whole city was very solemn, and the fasting started one day in advance.

All the daily fights and games were replaced by burning incense and bathing.

Civil and military officials entered the palace early and stood in the pre-arranged position in front of the altar.

Those who participated in the ceremony were in front, and those who watched the ceremony were in the back. This time, the officiant and the second princess stood at the front.

When the sun was rising, everyone looked towards Yuntai Mountain.

Someone arranged by the Ministry of Etiquette went to the foot of Yuntai Mountain to meet the national teacher.

When the gate of the temple was opened, the whole city could be seen faintly, and golden lights emanated from the top of the mountain, soaring to the sky and spreading out.

No matter inside or outside the palace, everyone kneeled down and kowtowed reverently to welcome the national teacher to leave the customs.

The national teacher got on the sedan chair prepared by the Ministry of Rites and was carried into the palace.

When the soft sedan chair with white gauze curtains arrived in front of the altar, Mu Yuanlu stepped forward and bowed to welcome the national teacher.

Lan Yi took a meaningful look at Mu Yuanlu who was leaning over in front of her, but didn't say a word.

With a wave of his right hand, the gauze curtain opened with the wind.

Lan Yi stepped out of nowhere, and walked all the way up in front of the officials.

Stepping on the void, he climbed onto the throne above the altar and sat down cross-legged.

Everyone knelt down to pay homage to the national teacher, and Lan Yiduan was on the seat, wearing a luxurious and formal red robe, which was particularly obvious in the white altar.

"let's start."

Lan Yi opened her lips lightly, and her majestic voice spread throughout the palace.

With Lan Yi's order, Feng Jinping, the Minister of Rites, began to preside over the Spring Festival.

As the officiant, Mu Yuanlu also stepped onto the altar.

Feng Jinping presided over the fast step by step according to the established etiquette.

Burning incense, welcoming the gods, laying silk, first offering, second offering, final offering, and removal of food.

Most of the above was carried out by the chief priest Mu Yuanlu on the altar.

The sacrifices for the gods were presented by the officials, and finally put on the sacrifice table by Mu Yuanlu.

After the sacrifices such as five grains, three animals, jade and silk were placed for the gods, Mu Yuanlu was required to present the sacrifices to the national teacher devoutly, and then the national teacher continued the spring sacrifice.

Lan Yi got up, stroked the hands of Mu Yuanlu who was kneeling in front of her with her fingers, and took the red pure glass bottle.

He uncorked the bottle and sniffed lightly.

A strong breath entered Lan Yi's body, making Lan Yi feel refreshed.

Everyone in the audience lowered their heads, and no one saw it. Lan Yi's eyes seemed to be a few years younger again.

Mu Yuanlu withdrew after delivering the sacrifice, and respectfully asked the national teacher to do it under the altar.

Lan Yi stepped down from the altar, stepped onto the altar, waved her big hand, and the cauldron on the altar ignited a raging flame.

Under the admiration of thousands of people, Lan Yi soared into the sky, floating above the flames.

(End of this chapter)