Lang Jun is coming

The days seem to go by too quickly.Before you know it, it is winter in the blink of an eye.

Spring is sleepy, autumn is exhausted, summer is weak, and winter is just sleeping.

This sentence is also very suitable for Song Yiqing, who is hardworking on weekdays.Spring, summer and autumn are fine, only one winter is a hurdle he can't get through.

Since the beginning of winter, Song Yiqing has been nesting in her room, and she is really going to become a little official lady who "doesn't leave the door, and doesn't walk through the door".

"Lang Jun, is this charcoal enough?"

The servant added charcoal fire to the brazier, and asked Song Yiqing who was sitting on the couch and copying books.

The tip of the pen paused, Song Yiqing turned his head and glanced at the brazier and said, "That's enough. You can go and rest first."

It was very late, and there was still heavy snow falling outside, which was really freezing.

"If you have something to do, Mr. Lang, you can call me a villain."

Now the days are long and the nights are short, as if after a while the sky will dawn.Although the servant was also sleepy, he was still worried and said more.

This time Song Yiqing didn't raise his head, so he just lowered his head.

"I'll go to bed after I finish writing this volume, so I should be fine."

When the servants left to open the door, the dim candlelight swayed slightly due to the cold wind that leaked in.Song Yiqing lowered her head and wrote engrossedly, while moving her wrist, she wrote skillfully.

After an unknown amount of time, there was a slight noise from the window.Song Yiqing suddenly stopped writing, and before she could stand up, she was suddenly enveloped by a chill as soon as she raised her head.

"It was windy and snowy, and I lost my way for a while. I stumbled into the little lady's boudoir by mistake, no wonder."

A pair of warm hands gently covered Song Yiqing's eyes from behind, and the body behind her felt cold.

Hearing the familiar voice, Song Yiqing calmed down.He raised his hand to knock away the disturbing hand that was covering his sight, his tone was steady.

"Master Pei's way of getting lost is truly unique."

Apart from Pei Lian, there is no other person who can make fun of him with such a shameless "little lady" on the left and a "boudoir" on the right.

Enough of the fuss, Pei Lian stopped, and very naturally walked to the side of the couch and sat opposite Song Yiqing.The black round neck looks sharp and handsome.

He slightly pulled the burning brazier closer to get rid of the cold air on his body.Only then did he put one hand on the table and get closer to look at the paper that Song Yiqing had written on.

"What did you copy?"

Formal small characters in Taige style emerged with the gestures of the person holding the pen.

"Filial piety."

Song Yiqing responded lightly, and said: "It will be mother's birthday in a few days."

Anyway, since the poetry meeting, Pei Lian is not

It was the first time he came through the window, and Song Yiqing got along with him more and more naturally.

He had already copied most of the filial piety scriptures at hand, and it was estimated that he would not be in a hurry, so he raised his head and thought about dealing with Pei Lian.

"In the capital city of Huaihuai, I'm afraid no one will believe that Mr. Tai Changqing is used to looking through windows."

He packed up the papers he had copied, and wanted to put them aside in the "Book of Filial Piety" and put them away, but Pei Lian suddenly stopped him with his hand.

Pei Lian took out one casually and looked at it carefully.He learned from Mei Yanyu, who was known as the seven-character man since he was a child, and he collected several styles of calligraphy in one hand, but he was self-contained.

But Song Yiqing is just the opposite. Taige style is written in a strict and regular manner, and every stroke is never out of line.

Taige style is the official font of the Heng Dynasty, and it is used in both zhazi and imperial examinations.Pei Lian was used to seeing it, but he didn't know if it was because he loved the house and felt that the pavilion in his hand was much more beautiful than other people's.

"Speaking of birthday, what month is Ah Chi's birthday?"

Enough of admiring it, Pei Lian ignored Song Yiqing's strange gaze, folded the manuscript and put it close to his chest, just like a disciple on the street.