When Lu Yunshuang heard this, her heart sank.
No wonder her grandmother's attitude towards her was much lighter when she came back this time. It turned out that this was the problem.
"Grandma, I..."
"Don't listen to Weiwei's nonsense. Even though I'm old, I still have the strength to walk to the door of the house." The old lady interrupted her lightly.
Lu Yunshuang's face turned pale.
When the old lady was young, she followed the old prince on the battlefield, which was quite majestic. But now that she is old, she has to bow down and salute her granddaughter. It is impossible for her to feel comfortable.
Seeing the old lady say these words again, Lu Yunshuang felt very anxious and regretful.
Before coming this morning, she had someone deliver a letter to Aunt Zheng, but she forgot to tell her to keep everything simple and not to disturb her grandmother.
I didn't think of it until I arrived in front of the Zhenguo Duke's mansion, but it was already too late.
The old lady didn't show any displeasure at that time, so she didn't take this matter to her heart.
When Lu Liangwei said it like that, it seemed that she was ignorant, had no filial piety, and did not take the old lady seriously at all.
She wanted to say something more to make amends, but the old lady had already spoken.
"It's March now, the season when the grass grows and the orioles fly, and the flowers and willows are red and green. You can write a poem based on this theme."
After a pause, he glanced at Lu Liangwei and added, "You don't have to write your own poems. If there are good poems in the books you usually read, you can also copy them."
The following words were obviously taken care of Lu Liangwei.
Because Lu Liangwei was usually arrogant and self-willed, and he knew nothing about knowledge.
Lu Yunshuang glanced at Lu Liangwei mockingly, feeling very disdainful in her heart.
The old lady's efforts may be in vain.
Apart from his face and some redeeming features, Lu Liangwei is just an ignorant idiot.
Even if she were asked to copy the verses from the book, she probably wouldn't be able to do it.
The corners of Lu Yunshuang's mouth curled up vaguely, and she stopped talking. She held her sleeves with one hand and dipped the pen in ink with the other hand. She only pondered for a moment, then lowered her head and waved it on the paper.
This kind of grace immediately made Long Chi's eyes flicker, which was very stunning.
He couldn't help but leave the table and walked behind Lu Yunshuang.
When my eyes fell on the paper, I couldn't help but read aloud: "The poet's beautiful scene is in the New Year, when the green willows are only half yellow. If you go to the forest and the flowers are blooming, you will be looking at the flowers when you go out."
Long Chi read it word for word, coupled with his clear and melodious voice, a poem can move people's hearts when read.
After finishing reading, Long Chi thought about the scene in the poem, and then couldn't hide the admiration in his eyes, "Shuang'er, what a poem!"
Even the old lady nodded, "Shuang'er's poem is wonderful, and the handwriting is also in everyone's style."
Aunt Zheng was even happier when she heard that her daughter was praised by the prince and the old lady one after another than when she was praised.
The whole person was in high spirits and very proud.
Lu Liangwei was not affected. She did not know how to write poetry, but in modern times, she had read several books of ancient poems, so it was not difficult to copy a few good poems.
Anyway, the old lady has already said that if you don’t know how to compose poetry, you can just copy the verses.
She saw the peach blossoms blooming on the branches in the courtyard, pondered for a moment, and then wrote a poem on the paper.
"On this day last year, in this door, the human face and the peach blossoms reflected each other's red color. I don't know where the human face went, but the peach blossoms still smiled in the spring breeze."
Her voice was soft and waxy, and when she read this poem, she had a soft-spoken voice unique to Jiangnan people.
And when she was writing poems, she was extremely serious. As she lowered her head, her black hair fell down her shoulders, and a section of her beautiful white neck was exposed to the sun.
…
ps: The two poems in this article are both from Tang poetry, Yang Juyuan's "Early Spring in the East of the City" and Cui Hu's "Chengnan Village".
(End of chapter)