I am the poor scholar

Ningxiang Museum, selling gold cave.

Bu Qingyun, who was raised at home by the county magistrate, still doesn't know this concept.

Bu Qingyun, who lived well since childhood, just frowned, and the bright black pupils in his almond eyes saw the madam twisting her waist like a water snake.

Don't ask Bu Qingyun why he guessed it was a madam instead of a girl, just ask because he has rich experience.

Bu Qingyun is personable, the tooth-coloured cotton coat is well cut to fit his slender figure, the folding fan gently taps the palm of his hand, and there is a smile on the corner of his lips.

Although they are younger, the playboys in Beijing who are even younger are also hungover Qin Lou Chuguan.

The madam smiled coquettishly, lowered her body half-revealed: "What's your favorite, my lord? Our girl here, you are satisfied with the safekeeping~"

Choking.

Bu Qingyun covered half of his face with a folding fan, and yawned lazily amidst the fragrance of soft jade, thinking about the girl's name, he said, "Lianxiang."

It is the girl who the Liu family and the son and brother are arguing about.

The madam laughed so hard that her eyes narrowed: "Lianxiang, please hurry up."

When Bu Qingyun went upstairs, the girls leaned on the railing and laughed, saying words of praise.

"Young master is so handsome, where did he come from~"

"My lord, do you play Pai Gow?"

"..."

Bu Qingyun glanced at the girl who was going to play Pai Gow, noted her face, and immediately walked into the private room without looking sideways.

Tea money and tips are added, which is even more exaggerated, ten taels of silver.

Through the heavy gauze curtain, Bu Qingyun filtered the tea leaves with a tea cover and sipped the tea from the Ningxiang Pavilion, listening to Miss Lianxiang play a tune.

Sometimes tactfully, sometimes sonorously.

Bu Qingyun knew music, but he was not as good as Han Yuming in musical instruments. After the song ended, he stood up abruptly.

Slowly approaching the gauze tent, Bu Qingyun raised his hand to pick up the gauze tent, and a woman who was still holding a pipa half-hidden appeared in front of Bu Qingyun.

She has a beautiful neck, wearing a cool gauze dress, her slender arms are holding the pipa, she is so white without a trace of blood.Occasionally a trembling, gauze still shaking with her movements.

Bu Qingyun was silent for a moment, this is a man who doesn't understand the style, and the person in front of him has no desire to let others understand the style.

"Is not It Cold?"

Bu Qingyun's first reaction was that the window was still open, let's put some clothes on her.

Not thinking about being charming, Bu Qingyun took off his outer shirt and put it on Lianxiang, and gathered the clothes for her.

This incomprehensible man asked Miss Lianxiang to drink a cup of warm tea, and closed the window again.

Seeing that the girl's complexion gradually returned to blood, Bu Qingyun slammed the fan handle on the table and said with a smile: "Girl, do you still remember Young Master Liu a few days ago?"

Lianxiang's originally recovered blood color disappeared in an instant.

Facts have proved that the story can't be taken seriously.

It is not necessarily because of being framed by someone who went to a flower building and caused something to happen.

The sons and brothers who visit flower houses can also do what is right.

Miss Lianxiang, who was still miserable just now, mentioned that Mr. Liu, and instantly distorted her face: "That poor man really thinks that he is a great man, and if he can't pay the money, he wants the overlord to fight hard. If it weren't for Duan The young master is here, I..."

"I... woo woo woo..." At the end of the speech, Miss Lianxiang wept faintly, as if the person who had darkened his face just now was an illusion of Bu Qingyun.

Ouch.

Bu Qingyun turned his back to the sky, covered his face with a fan, and saw that the girl was gnashing her teeth when she mentioned Mrs. Liu, and how grateful she was when she mentioned Mr. Duan, so it must not be fake.

"He's so worthless." He and the girl share the same hatred.

Bu Qingyun, who was sympathetic to the fragrance and jade, handed out the square handkerchief in his arms as a display, and said, "Girl, wipe, don't hurt your eyes from crying because of that scum."

Miss Lianxiang was sobbing as she spat at her, she found Xianxin in the middle of sobbing, choked up and said, "Master, what did you ask that man for? Is there something wrong?"

As he spoke, he stared at Bu Qingyun with those hazy eyes, feeling very sad, and there was a trace of vigilance mixed with the sadness.

That trace of vigilance may be because Bu Qingyun is thinking too much.

But in the face of such a beautiful girl Lianxiang who was crying and had suffered such a tragic experience before, Bu Qingyun was afraid to say that he came to Hualou to "investigate the truth" because of unfounded speculation, which would make the girl spurn.

A flash of inspiration flashed in his mind, and Bu Qingyun had a way to save the situation: "Let's play Pai Gow, Mahjong is also fine.

Finally chose mahjong.

It should be known that under the old man's hope, it is not a lie to go to the top of the world to study books, read a lot of books and then integrate them.

This also indirectly led to Bu Qingyun's lack of opportunities to play, which formed his character that likes to play.

Likes to play, and has inexhaustible books, Bu Qingyun almost knows the rules of mahjong by heart.

However, Bu Qingyun, who had never practiced before, lost a hundred taels of silver.

Miss Lianxiang stopped crying.

The madam laughed from ear to ear.

Bu Qingyun realized two truths.

One is: true knowledge comes from practice, mahjong.

The second is: the script comes from life and is higher than life.Don't just trust the scriptures.

Which high-ranking official would stare at a small move with nothing to do!

-

Bu Qingyun, who had been taught the truth by life, managed to win the smile of the beauty and deflated his wallet a little.

But for the rich and powerful Bu Jieyuan, there was an extremely difficult problem.

Where to start playing?this is a problem.

Bianjing City, from the south of the city to the north of the city, is too numerous to enumerate.

What's more, the end of the year is approaching, and all the people have worked hard to make this year a lively one.

Bu Qingyun didn't have a strategy, and he didn't know anyone in Bianjing.

I heard that today's Hanlin bachelor has a short-term teacher-student relationship with the old man, but Bu Qingyun can almost imagine that if he hooks up with him, will there still be a chance to play?

If you are willing to take care of yourself, you are grateful to the old man.

The old man looks at Sun Chenglong, and one can imagine what the Hanlin scholar who knows how to repay him will do.

Also, Bu Qingyun chose to give up the observation quota of the Guozijian.

Playing is the top priority and the most important thing.

The day after losing a hundred taels of silver, Bu Qingyun went to the teahouse to listen to books.

After ordering a pot of tea, Bu Qingyun sat down in the hall, wanting to hear if there is anything new in the story of Bianjing.

Amidst the noisy voices, someone sat down beside Bu Qingyun.

Looking up, he looked like a scholar.

It is not always true that he is a scholar.

His eyes are stern, and he feels a bit of lovesickness with the old man at home, which is clearly the aura of a person who has been an official.

Somewhat familiar for no reason, Bu Qingyun looked at this person's face.

His face was upright, but his skin was strangely pale, and his eyes were like falcons, staring at the stage with concentration.

But if you stare at those eyes for a long time, your back will feel chilly.

Seeing those falcon-like eyes, a word "sleepy" from three years ago flashed in his mind, and Bu Qingyun remembered it with a jolt.

Meeting an old friend in a foreign country is not considered a fate, but it is also considered a fate to have met once.

Wan Yan smiled, stroked the fan and knocked on the tea bowl, jingling, which attracted the scholar's attention.

The dry wood touched the raging fire, and the one-sided smoke spread on the scholar.

A smile flickered in Bu Qingyun's dark pupils: "So it's Mr. Xue, long time no see."

Mr. Xue was dressed in a cloth shirt. The moment he saw Bu Qingyun, his indifference was replaced by indifference and disgust, and his mouth was full of yin and yang: "It turns out that it is Mr. Bu. I haven't seen you for three years, but I have grown up a lot."

Like the elders of Bu Qingyun.

A 15-year-old boy must have changed a lot when he grows up, but Mr. Xue can recognize him instantly, which is enough to see the depth of his disgust.

Bu Qingyun didn't care about the thorns in his words, but he really didn't think there was anything wrong with him about what happened three years ago.

The folding fan jingled against the tea bowl, and the tea water rippled because of his movements.

He smiled and said: "I haven't seen you for three years. Mr. Xue still remembers me in the midst of his busy schedule. I am extremely honored."

Because of that incident three years ago, after Xue Wuyi won the first prize, Fei Ge sent a letter to Bu Qingyun, explaining his official position and so on.

I still remember that it was the compilation of national history at the beginning.

"I heard that Mr. Bu has to understand Yuan, it's great." Xue Wuyi snorted coldly, turned his head and said, "I wish Mr. Bu will be named on the gold list next year."

Obviously don't want to talk about it.

"Thank you for your good words." Bu Qingyun's black pupils lightened slightly, and the folding fan slammed on the tea bowl suddenly, and then stopped, "When I become the leader next year, I will definitely treat Mr. Xue to a glass of wine."

"Heh." Mr. Xue mocked, "Do you have that ability?"

The gunpowder smoke rising silently between the two was quickly suppressed by people's loud shouts. The storyteller patted it with a paperweight, and the noise in the room turned into flying smoke.

The sense of victory and defeat that rose in his heart just now faded slightly, Bu Qingyun turned his head, resting his chin with one hand, and found a leisurely posture.

It's time to hear the story.

"Today we are going to tell the story of King Yan—" The storyteller dragged out the ending, his goatee flickered, and he smiled wickedly, but it just whetted people's appetite.

Bu Qingyun paused with his hand resting on his chin.

The words Master Jingyi gave him back then were too profound.

Someone asked: "Is it also about how King Yan went to battle to kill the enemy and how he won the head of the enemy's general?"

His Royal Highness King Yan, at the age of 15, charged into battle and beat the crap out of the Liao army who invaded the border.

"It's Chinese New Year, talk about it lightly!"

"That's it!" Someone echoed.

The paperweight slapped again, and the old storyteller was there: "Don't be impatient, everyone. I didn't say I was going to talk about fighting and killing on the battlefield. What I'm telling this time is the love story of the prince."

Everyone has the heart of gossip.

Even though Bu Qingyun had a grudge about being held hostage more than a month ago, he was still very curious about King Yan's love story.

Out of curiosity, remember to criticize Master Jingyi, it really is a magic stick!

I only heard the storyteller on the stage say: "If you want to say that His Royal Highness Yan Wang is twenty-two this year, he looks majestic and majestic."

Xiao Yang, King of Yan, is the younger brother of the first emperor, and now the seventeenth uncle.

Before the late emperor died, he entrusted King Yan and the prime minister.

He was only seven years old last year, and the prime minister was calm and indifferent to government affairs, so this court could be called the one-spoken hall of King Yan.

During the four years of King Yan's reign, he selected talents and appointed talents, and cleared up the government. He actually achieved the unprecedented simplicity of the people in the Liang Dynasty.

The above are the original words of the storyteller.

"It is said that a month ago, the prince redeemed a person from Qingfengyuan. Do you know who it is?" The storyteller's slender eyes skipped over everyone in the hall.

I don't know which sentence touched everyone's nerves, but there were whispers in their ears, and Bu Qingyun raised his ears.

"Qingfengyuan, what is that?" asked Bu Qingyun's doubts.

"Qingfengyuan? Aren't those all young men?"

The author has something to say: hhhh, I need to accumulate material for future script writing~

Comments still have red envelopes, muma~

Happy Lantern Festival!