subordinates dare not

Watching the shadow guards leave one after another, Meng Fuyuan leaned on the back of the sandalwood official hat chair, still thinking about the clues he got recently.

A few days ago, the shadow guard asked Shen Zhuo's relatives to check, but did not get any useful clues, that is to say, the line of Shen Zhuo's sister was completely broken.Meng Fuyuan didn't intend to continue the investigation either. Compared with the grievances between Shen Zhuo and Meng Sihe, the traces of the remnants of the Devil's Cult were more important.

Tomorrow's departure to Xuzhou, good or bad is uncertain, so we can only take one step at a time. Meng Fuyuan is dizzy today, and he really doesn't want to spare a bit of thinking.

Seeing the shadow guards leaving one after another, it seemed like a big drama was slowly ending, and the music ended. Meng Fuyuan saw that tall and straight figure in the flowing crowd at a glance, "Yan Yuanbai."

As expected, Huo Yi stopped immediately when he heard the sound, and turned around.

With eyes facing each other and looking at each other from a distance, Meng Fuyuan felt an unknown peace of mind, as if the wandering catkins would finally be able to rest for a while one day, with something to rely on, Meng Fuyuan said softly: "Stay with me."

Huo Yi was silent, seemingly astonished.

There was a faint smile on the corner of Meng Fuyuan's mouth, he got up from the wooden chair, walked down slowly, and finally stopped a step away from Huo Yi, Meng Fuyuan stretched out his hand to hold Huo Yi's sleeve, his palm was filled with rough cloth , suddenly felt more at ease, separated by a layer of coarse cloth, Meng Fuyuan's palm covered Huo Yi's wrist, staring at Huo Yi's eyes.

Huo Yi murmured: "Villa Master..."

Meng Fuyuan raised his brows lightly, with a teasing look on his face, "You're still called the owner?"

Huo Yi was taken aback.

The smile on Meng Fuyuan's face became even brighter. If the smile could turn into water vapor, there would be a dense cloud of mist surrounding the surroundings in the next moment. Meng Fuyuan seemed to be pleased by Huo Yi's dilemma and at a loss, "Next Meng Fuyuan, the character is Rongrong. You can call him whatever you want, but you are not allowed to call him the owner of the village."

"In my impression, you always call me the owner of the villa, no different from my shadow guards." Meng Fuyuan raised his lips and squinted at Huo Yi, "You always make me think that you belong to our Wuwei Villa people."

Huo Yi was suffocated when he heard the words, and forced out a sentence from his throat, "...Meng Fuyuan." After finishing speaking, Huo Yi looked vaguely coy, and thought that Meng Fuyuan was "forced into prostitution" when he saw it without knowing it.

"En." Meng Fuyuan was satisfied at this point, and then asked, "Hero Yan is free now, I wonder if you can accompany me to the study?"

Huo Yi naturally agreed.

Meng Fuyuan didn't want to let go of the hand that imprisoned Huo Yi's wrist, so the back of his hand could only be exposed to the mid-autumn cold wind, and the joints were faintly red. When Huo Yi saw it, he broke free with brute force and pulled his hand out.

Meng Fuyuan's martial arts were inferior to Huo Yi's, so he could only let the opponent throw his hand away, and gave him a very reluctant and annoyed look, but the next moment, Meng Fuyuan's pupils shrank involuntarily——

Huo Yihui held his hand, and the back of his hand was wrapped in the opponent's palm. Huo Yi had been practicing martial arts all year round, and his skin was rough and fleshy. Meng Fuyuan could feel the calluses at the junction of his palm and fingers, and a layer of itching appeared, but it was not so cold up.

Walking to the study room, Meng Fuyuan took out his pen and ink, and began to write a letter, which was a letter to Bian Qingyu.

Huo Yi stood aside and rubbed ink silently.

After Meng Fuyuan finished writing a piece of letter paper, he put it aside and waited for the ink to dry, then took out another piece of paper, dipped the brush in the freshly rubbed ink, but suddenly said: "Yan Yuanbai, write for me, I will write it myself in the future." How about thanking you again and giving you a gift in return?"

Seeing that Huo Yi didn't readily agree, Meng Fuyuan added: "My hands are sour and I can't hold the pen steadily. Maybe it's because of the cold."

After finishing speaking, Meng Fuyuan raised his head and silently looked into Huo Yi's eyes.

Meng Fuyuan's eyes were beautiful, and looking at each other for a long time was afraid that it would be captivating, Huo Yi hurriedly looked away, pondered for a moment, and finally nodded his head, which was regarded as an agreement.

Fortunately, I have practiced more than one font, Huo Yixin said.

When taking over the wooden pen holder, Huo Yi carefully avoided Meng Fuyuan's fingertips, and then stuck his thumb, index finger, middle finger, and three fingers on the pen holder. In the thick ink, then the fingertips move slightly, the nib turns to the other side, and the soap color quickly smudges upwards. When Meng Fuyuan just wrote, he just dipped in the ink vertically, so only about two-thirds of the brush is black, and At this moment, Huo Yi also dyed the hair that was gathered at the top of the pine pen holder black.

"I said, you write."

Meng Fuyuan said slowly, "Once the sea was too difficult to be water, except Wushan is not a cloud. Take the time to look back at the flowers, half destined to practice Taoism and half destined to be a king."

Huo Yi wrote it down.

Meng Fuyuan said again: "Your time is always limited, and it is easy to be ecstasy when you leave at leisure, and there is no need to say too often at the banquet and singing. The mountains and rivers are full of mountains and rivers, and the wind and rain hurt the spring even more. It is better to pity the people in front of you."

As soon as Huo picked up the pen, the barrel of the pen moved slightly, and the writing was smooth and flowing, with strong and firm handwriting, showing sharpness.

Meng Fuyuan spent a lot of time arranging his clothes, and then narrated it, which is another popular poem.

So Huo Yi wrote——

"The east wind blows thousands of flowers and trees at night, and blows them down. The stars are like rain, and the car of BMW carves is fragrant. I searched for him thousands of times in the crowd. Suddenly I looked back, but the man was there, in a dimly lit place."

"The last one." Meng Fuyuan said softly, with a low and long tone, as if he was telling the little-known past events of the dust, "I have Emei thorns, love and hate can be broken, and there are winds and shadows, and no one knows about my appearance."

Different from the well-known poems before, this is a five-character quatrain that has never been heard before. There is no relative level at all, and the rhyme is also perfunctory. A stroke, and suddenly Meng Fuyuan said in a low voice——

"He likes dipping in ink like that, too."

Huo Yi suddenly turned his head, and happened to bump into Meng Fuyuan's dark pupils, as if he was facing a huge abyss.