"Too, too hot, the heating is too full."
Zhu Qinghuan hurriedly loosened Nanyang's waist, retracted his hot fingers, and pinched the corner of his clothes and rubbed it in embarrassment.
"I told Xu Xue to go back to the hotel to get you a thin dress." Nan Yang didn't look up at Qing Huan, so he didn't notice her shyness at the moment.
"… Need not."
Nanyang hummed and said nothing more.
Qian Dao held the selfie stand and swept the live mobile phone here, "Let's take a look at the production of the stars! Brother Xia Shan is already cutting the red cloth. He is the one with the fastest progress. Fans remember it on the public screen. Cheer on him! I wish Miss Zhu only made the lantern skeleton. She is now helping the friendly Boss Nan, wow, it's really a beautiful love! Our lovely Miss Cheng tonight... My What's wrong with you, Tian Acheng?!"
Qian Dao's voice suddenly turned panicked, causing both Nan Yang and Qing Huan to look sideways.
Tomorrow night, Cheng grinned and held her hand. She accidentally let a thorn pierce her index finger when she was nesting bamboo pieces. The pain was so painful that tears almost came out, but she bit her lip and held it back. Very pitiful.
Qing Huan hurriedly walked over, stared at Cheng Cheng's red and swollen fingers, and became nervous: "What's wrong?"
"Master..." Cheng choked his mouth in the evening and started to cry.
Tomorrow night, when Cheng and Zhu Qinghuan were working together in the crew, Qinghuan taught Acheng a lot of acting skills in private, and Acheng climbed down the pole and called Qinghuan generously and called his master. The crew members were used to Ah Cheng's "Master" coming to "Master" all day long, and they didn't think anything was wrong. But Nanyang didn't know about it. She heard Ah Cheng shouting out the word "Master" in an open and fair manner.
"I'll help you pick it out, don't move." Zhu Qinghuan called out to Xiaoye outside the arena, "Xiaoye, help me find a needle!"
Qian Dao held up the live broadcast mobile phone, watching the excitement and booing: "Wow, wow, look at the first and second females of our Shenwu crew, aren't they super loving! Have you eaten the 'Cheng Huan' CP? Little friend? Swipe it out on the public screen to let our boss Nan take a look. Boss Nan still doesn't care? Hahahahaha..."
Nanyang won't eat the vinegar of tomorrow night Cheng. In her eyes, Qing Huan is a child, and tomorrow night Cheng is the child of the child, Qing Huan and tomorrow night Cheng stay together will only make her feel two words - mother's love.
Although Cheng Wancheng has indeed lived for more than 3,000 years, she was eighteen when she used the forbidden technique, so she looked like an eighteen-year-old girl. Coupled with her frivolous demeanor and lack of a time-honored poise, she looked like a young girl. Twenty-four-year-old Qing Huan lowered her head to pick thorns in her flesh for eighteen-year-old Ming Wancheng. The picture was more like a kind mother taking care of her troublesome daughter.
After Zhu Qinghuan finished picking the thorns, he followed Xiaoye to temporarily leave the live broadcast venue and went to the bathroom to dispose of the bloody needles. Taking advantage of this gap, Nanyang lowered his voice and asked Ming Wancheng: "What do you call her master?"
"I-I asked her to teach me how to act." Tomorrow night Cheng tearful, put his index finger in his mouth, and spoke inarticulately, "Just ask her to teach me something, and I can logically call Master. Ah. Otherwise, every time I call Master's name, Patriarch, you will say that I am neither big nor small."
Nanyang nodded clearly.
Tomorrow night, Cheng's performance made everyone lose the mind to make lanterns, and Xia Shan was the only one in the audience who honestly finished the lanterns. Li Dong saw that the live broadcast room was constantly swiping for the next session, so he also called Qian Dao to the next session cue.
The next step is to write couplets.
Considering that writing couplets is not very ornamental, writing couplets and making dumplings at the next table are carried out at the same time. If you want to write couplets, you can write couplets, and if you want to make dumplings, you can go to make dumplings. Qian Dao walks back and forth with the live broadcast stand, and he will go to whoever the netizen brushes for the camera.
The actors have chosen to avoid writing couplets, which is a technically demanding activity. Most people can't even write hard pen well, let alone calligraphy. It's not a good thing to expose their shortcomings to fans and passers-by in the live broadcast room.
When Zhu Qinghuan came back from the bathroom, everyone had already started one after another. Seeing that there were too many people at the dumpling table, she knew that Nanyang didn't like to crowd with people, so she said to Nanyang, "Let's go write couplets first?"
"Um."
Nanyang really complied.
They walked to the side of the couplet table, and Cheng also followed them tomorrow night with his index finger in his mouth.
Zhu Qinghuan knew that Nanyang's right hand was sick, so she didn't give her the pen, she picked up a large rabbit-haired brush and dipped it in ink, lightly stroked the red couplet paper with her fingertips, turned her head and asked, "What do you want to write? ?"
Nanyang did not answer this question, but instead asked, "Can you write with a brush?"
"Not very good, are you writing for fun?" Qing Huan smiled softly.
"I can teach you." Nanyang's voice was light.
Zhu Qinghuan couldn't help laughing: "You? I've seen the words you wrote. Although it's not very friendly to say so, but... it's really not good-looking. You can't write well yourself, so why don't you teach me?"
Tomorrow night Cheng took his index finger out of his mouth and interjected, "No, she used to write very well."
She did write really well before.
Three thousand years ago, the three venerable masters of Northern Punishment, apart from swordsmanship, were famous all over the world for their skills. Yu Xiu's alchemy technique, Rong Huai's sword-casting technique, and Nanyang's calligraphy.
A piece of Nanyang's character was hard to come by at that time. Because she has no need for fame and fortune, she can write if she wants to, and she doesn't write if she doesn't want to. The fewer works that survive, the more valuable they are. Countless businessmen and rich people poured money desperately, just to get a piece of her letter to hang at home as a family heirloom.
She has no special hobbies in her life, and there are only three things worth making her paranoid: sugar gourd, calligraphy, and Qinghuan.
Calligraphy used to be the thing she was most proud of besides swordsmanship.
pity.
Just been.
Whether it is swordsmanship or calligraphy, it is already in the past.
Nanyang put his hands behind his back, his left hand gently squeezed his right wrist, and his thumb rubbed the missing muscles and bones on the inside of his wrist.
"Really? Why don't I believe it." Zhu Qinghuan smiled and lowered her head, touching the tip of her pen on the couplet paper.
Tomorrow night Cheng said seriously: "Of course it's true, if you see it with your own eyes..."
"Acheng." Nanyang interrupted Cheng's words tomorrow night.
Tomorrow night, Cheng opened his mouth and had to keep quiet.
Nanyang stood beside Qinghuan, watching her write, and whispered while watching:
"Start the pen slowly, move the pen lightly, twist the turns slightly, and return the pen evenly. The shape is positive, the structure, the point is heavy, the vertical, the horizontal and the flat, from the shallow to the deep, from the deep to the shallow, don't hesitate to put the pen, and don't lift the pen too tightly. Write the couplet. When it comes to writing, you need to be bold, otherwise you won’t be able to come out with a stroke, and you will lose a lot of expressiveness.”
"It's very thoughtful, come and write it?" Zhu Qinghuan lifted the pen and handed it to Nanyang, teasing her.
Nan Yang seemed to instinctively want to take the pen, but as soon as he raised his hand, his fingertips curled back.
After a long while, she turned her eyes away, looked at the ground to the side, and lowered her right hand slowly.
"I… can't write anymore."
There was an almost imperceptible trembling in the calm voice.
Zhu Qinghuan suddenly realized that it is very rude to let someone with a right hand problem write, even if it is a joke, it is not appropriate. She blinked a few times, pursed her lips, and changed the subject: "Then... Do you have anything to write about? You say, I'll write it."
Nanyang looked at her, and the corner of his lips suddenly hooked slightly: "I don't have anything to write about, just write what you like."
Zhu Qinghuan hummed, lowered his head, and silently took a copy of the Spring Festival couplets that Li Dong had asked him to put there, and flipped it over casually.
She picked a pair at random, bent down, held the brush with a hard-brush grip that only modern people would have, and wrote down neat and tidy handwriting stroke by stroke.
Cheng looked at the ink on the red paper tomorrow night, and couldn't help but think of the horizontal couplet on the lintel of the Rongku Pavilion that had been pasted for more than a hundred years.
She didn't know how long ago it was posted, she only knew that it was a blessing that Nan Yang wrote to her when Master Qing Huan was seventeen years old. After many years, the cross couplet has never been taken off, the red part has been whitened, and the ink-colored font has faded to a light gray. But she could still recognize the four words above.
"Immortal Joy".
It's just a pity that in the end, Master Qing Huan was not able to get a Qing Huan in that lifetime.
She died forever when she was seventeen.
Cheng looked at Nanyang tomorrow night, and from Nanyang's slightly ecstatic eyes, she knew that Nanyang was also caught in the memories of the past. She heard Yuntang say that during the Chinese New Year that year, Nanyang promised Qinghuan to write a better one next year and replace the old one. However, Qing Huan didn't have time to live to the New Year's Eve of the second year. On the New Year's Eve of the second year, Yun Tang asked Nan Yang if he wanted to take off the old Henglian. Nan Yang didn't answer, but after a long silence, he whispered: I will give it back to her.
Give her the four words on the horizontal couplet.
She said she would pay it back, and she would pay it back. Tomorrow night Cheng knew that Nanyang was a promise-keeper.
Isn't she still there now
Qian Dao came here with his live broadcast mobile phone, and his cadenced tone interrupted Cheng Wancheng's thoughts: "Let's take a look at the Spring Festival couplet group now, alas, there are far fewer people here than the dumpling-making side, the live broadcast room My friends didn't brush enough. It seems that everyone doesn't want the Spring Festival couplet benefits written by the leading actors? Hahahaha, yes, yes, yes, yes, let's see how Zhu Zhu wrote—"
Just as he was talking, Xia Shan came over from the dumpling table and curiously looked at the Spring Festival couplets in Zhu Qinghuan's hands.
"Fans talk about how they wrote? The public screen is up and swiped for Zhu Zhu!"
In fact, her writing is really average, but fans can't blow any rainbow farts. The full screen is full of "good, good", "seeking the lottery", "offering" and "beautiful font 666", the scrolling speed is extremely terrible, the audience in the upper right corner The number has shown 10W.
10W does not mean only 10W, it means that the system caps and displays 10W, and there may actually be nearly one million viewers.
A lot of dumplings have already been prepared, and even a few plates have been cooked. Qian Dao invited everyone to sit down at the dumpling table, eat some dumplings together, and by the way lead to today's main game—
Coin penalty.
When they were making dumplings, they randomly packed some sterilized one-dollar coins into the dumplings. After a while, everyone sat together to eat, and whoever ate the coins would be punished with alcohol. If you refuse to drink, you will have to accept the big risk penalty.
It stands to reason that alcohol is not allowed in the live broadcast room, but it is obvious that the back door has been opened this time, and the prepared wine has no degree, Corona, only 4.6 degrees.
Qian Dao greeted all the leading actors, including Nan Yang, to come and sit down, adjust the angle of the live broadcast mobile phone and fix it.
Qinghuan and Nanyang sat far away from the phone, she looked at the piles of beer bottles on the table with a little worry, and whispered to Nanyang: "You don't want to drink for a while, tell me when you have it, and I will help you drink it. "
Nanyang was silent for a moment and said, "I can drink it."
"It's very hot in the hall, drink some more wine, I'm afraid you'll have cholinergic urticaria again," Zhu Qinghuan blushed, "I... I can't be in public here, reach in and help you... "
Nanyang turned his head away, his ears instantly turned red.