Liuzhou city is very lively.
Wei Yang sat in the room of the inn, writing quietly. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the window lattice, outlining a beautiful figure.
If passers-by who happen to pass by the back alley accidentally look up and see it, they will definitely be fascinated and feel awe.
The daughter of the Su family was well-educated, and her greatest talent was not needlework, but calligraphy.
Different from her elder sister Su Junyao's majestic and powerful handwriting, Su Weiyang's handwriting is softer and more elegant, and every stroke can be put into poetry.
"Ding, de, de" there was a knock on the door of the room. He knew it was Ding Wu by the voice. No matter on the road or at the hotel, Ding Wu would always discuss everything with Wei Yang and never dared to neglect it.
Konggu opened the door and bowed to let Ding Wu in.
Ding Wu just stood respectfully at the door and whispered, "Miss, we will probably stay here for three days. Boss He and his men need to process a batch of goods here." Ding Wu said.
Seeing that Wei Yang was still writing and didn't say anything, Ding Wu continued, "I wonder if the young lady needs anything else. Let's buy it together while you have free time these two days."
“No need.” Wei Yang remained expressionless and continued to write with his head down.
She didn't write very fast, but every word was written neatly and beautifully. She only needed to listen to Ding Wu's words, and raise any opinions if she had any. If not, she would let Ding Wu continue speaking.
"Girl, Xiaoqing is back and brought a letter from the general to you."
Wei Yang's hand trembled, and a drop of ink fell on the white paper full of words, and the handwriting she had practiced for half a day was ruined.
Youlan, who was standing aside, couldn't help but purse her lips with regret, and glanced at Ding Wu at the door with a bit of resentment. It was all because of him. Why did he leave such an important matter to the last
Ding Wu held a bamboo tube in his hand. Wei Yang moved her feet and just took half a step. Kong Gu had already reached out to take it and handed it to her: "Miss."
The lid of the emerald green bamboo tube was pulled out, and a piece of paper rolled into a cylindrical shape was taken out from it.
When you open it carefully, the vigorous handwriting inside jumps out at your eyes.
"Weiyang:
Everything is fine. I arrived in Yancheng last night and waited for you.
The swallows are back.
"If I were to write a letter, would it have so many words?" Wei Yang asked, tilting her head as she looked at the letter in her hand that was as simple as a piece of paper.
How many words are there? Ding Wu did not dare to read the letter the general wrote to the girl, so he could only say vaguely: "As long as the bamboo tube can fit in it, it will be fine."
Wei Yang raised her hand and looked at the emerald green bamboo tube in her hand. If she were asked to write, she could probably write a hundred or so words. But she didn't want to. If he wrote seventeen words, she would also have to write seventeen words.
Walking to the desk, Weiyang picked up the pen and started writing.
"Uncle:
I hope you are well. I will be back late.
Weiyang."
Weiyang wrote the hairpin flower in small calligraphy, which showed the girl's tenderness and playfulness. She smiled and blew on the ink, and the faint fragrance of the ink wafted out, making people feel relaxed and happy. This was the ink that Weiyang mixed herself.
After the writing was completely dry, he carefully rolled it up, stuffed it into a bamboo tube, and handed it to Konggu.
Konggu came out holding a thin bamboo tube and handed it to Ding Wu. Ding Wu took the tube and secretly complained, "It seems that the girl only wrote a few words. I don't know what she wrote, and I don't know whether the general is satisfied. It takes Xiaoqing about five days to go back and forth. The general must have received the letter from the girl and it must have arrived in Yancheng. I wonder if he is happy?"
Ding Wu came into the room holding a bamboo tube, and Xiong Da came over and asked, "The girl has finished writing the reply so quickly?"
Ding Wu, who was secretly vomiting blood in his heart, couldn't help but glared at him fiercely: "It's better to worry about it than to worry about it."