The light market on Chinese New Year's Eve is not as lively as the New Year's Eve. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 There are only a few vendors in the alley where the lights are sold, and most of them sell Kong Ming lanterns. Hanging lamps aside, but there are fewer sales.

The group of people carried hats, but the only two did not bring the book and the good fish, and their appearance was mediocre, and they did not attract too much attention.

A few people arrived at the lamp selling place, and the wait here is really not as good as the colorful and various lamps in the capital, and no one bought many of them in the capital in the past few years.

The more Hong Shan looked at it, the more excited she became, pouting and looking at it one by one: "The lights here are too ordinary." ”

Zhuo Yijia also watched and did not answer.

At the end of the street, there was a vendor with many white lights, but there was no vendor guarding it.

A few people walked up to the vendor, looked at it, and waited for the same appearance, round. The white lights on the vendors look very ordinary.

"That's a good light." Zhishu looked at it and pointed to a lamp hanging above the vendor.

The lights hanging on it are also round, but the mountains and forests in spring are painted on it, and the lights are reflected in cyan, which is the most eye-catching one along the way.

As soon as the words fell, a gray-haired old man with a wrinkled face stretched his neck, looking at the group of people standing in front of the stall, and his eyes rolled: "How many people buy lamps?" ”

"Boss, how do you sell this lamp?" Zhishu looked at the old man who emerged from under the stall, and pointed to the mountain lantern above him.

The old man looked up, 'ouch', stood up and rubbed his neck with one hand, squinted his eyes and wrinkled: "My neck yo ......"

The brush he held in his other hand was still stained with a lot of ink.

Hong Shan's eyes fell on the brush, her eyes lit up, and she turned her head to look at Zhuo Yijia: "Miss, he has a brush in his hand, we can draw the lamp by ourselves." ”

"Painting lights?" Zhuo Yijia said, his gaze fell on the old man's brush.

"Yes, isn't the lamp drawn by Miss beautiful?" Hong Shan said excitedly, she remembered the beauty lantern painted by the young lady on the first night of that year.

The good fish on the side quietly turned his head to look at Zhao Fengyao. Zhao Fengyao wore a hat, making it impossible to see his expression.

Zhuo Yijia listened to Hongshan's words and did not respond.

"I'll draw it." Zhao Fengyao took a step forward as he spoke, looking at the old man standing behind the stall: "Boss, can we borrow your ink?" ”

The old man put down the hand that was touching his neck and looked at Zhao Fengyao: "It can be, but the money given cannot be less." ”

You can't make him cheap just because he painted it himself. It took him pen and ink anyway.

"Nature." Zhao Fengyao nodded.

"Then you can paint." The old man stood aside and handed the brush out of his hand.

Zhao Fengyao bypassed the vendors, walked to the back, and took the brush in the old man's hand.

I took a white light at the stall and lowered my head to paint.

"But a pen?" Zhuo Yijia looked at the old man who was standing aside and staring at Zhao Fengyao's painting lamp and asked.

"Yes, do you want to use it?" The old man asked without raising his head.

Zhuo Yijia nodded in response, and the old man pointed to the pile of pen and ink on the side of the stall. Zhuo Yijia walked to the pen and ink, took the pen and ink, took a white lamp, and walked to the side under the tree.

"Miss, what are you going to draw?" Hong Shan followed Zhuo Yijia and squatted next to her and asked.

"I'm going to write poetry." Zhuo Yijia said, picked up the pen and began to write on the lamp.

The little makeup is talented, the mirror is pasted, and the plum fragrance is deep on the street; Spring comes a few times, weeping willows on the riverside, and apricot blossoms are like snow.

After the question, Zhuo Yijia looked at it, and then took a pen and dipped it in vermilion ink and ordered a few red plums on it. When you're done, put down your pen and pick up the lamp to look at it.

In the last life, she loved plum blossoms the most, a little red plum, or a branch of plum blossoms, blooming in the heavens and the earth, when all things are silent and the flowers are withering, accompanied by snow. Proud and upright, fragrant and clear.

I often like to finish the inscription and like to point a few plums on the side.

"Miss's handwriting is really beautiful." Hong Shan looked at the lamp with a smile. She didn't know how many times she had said it, but she never got tired of saying it.

"Zhishu, you go over there and buy a few Kong Ming lanterns." Zhuo Yijia looked back at Zhishu and said.

Zhihua was still waiting in the temple, bought a lamp, and put it with her later.

Zhishu nodded, walked to the vendor on the side and bought a few Kong Ming lanterns.

When he came over, Zhao Fengyao had already finished drawing.

"Good painting! It's so drawn! The old man looked at Zhao Fengyao with his hands behind his back, and praised him with a sigh of praise.

Zhao Fengyao drew the lamp and walked to Zhuo Yijia's side, "Okay?" ”

Zhuo Yijia nodded and got up with the lamp.

Zhao Fengyao suddenly paused, looked at the lamp in Zhuo Yijia's hand, and suddenly frowned.

"How?" Zhuo Yijia looked at Zhao Fengyao and asked.

Zhao Fengyao shook his head, the good fish on the side gave silver to the vendor, and several people walked back with lamps. I also bought some food on the way.

When I walked out of the town, there were no lanterns on either side, and the road became dark. Zhao Fengyao took out the fire fold and lit his lantern.

The road is getting brighter. Reflecting the candlelight, Zhuo Yijia turned her head to look at Zhao Fengyao's flowers, and only then did she see the painting on the lamp.

The lamp is painted with the scenery of northern Liao, the vast frontier, and a few strokes jump on the paper. Yellow sand, sunset, lonely city, soldiers......

Looking at that picture, Zhuo Yijia was a little fascinated, and her body trembled slightly. Then he came back to his senses.

"The prince hasn't been back to Liaobei for a long time." Zhuo Yijia was in front, carrying his own lamp, and asked slowly.

Zhao Fengyao followed behind and nodded. Then he reacted that Zhuo Yijia couldn't see it when he walked in front, so he said loudly: "It's been almost two years." ”

"Fortunately, the fighting on the frontier has subsided." Zhuo Yijia said slowly. Zhao Fengyao was born in northern Liaobei and was the chief general of Liaobei, but now he was placed under house arrest by Emperor Ming Xian in the capital.

As he spoke, Zhuo Yijia added to himself: "Fortunately, there is still Prince Huairong stationed in the frontier." ”

Zhao Fengyao, who was following behind, glanced at Zhuo Yijia, "Father's body is almost dead." As he spoke, his hand holding the lamp tightened.

He rarely mentioned the affairs of the palace to outsiders.

Zhuo Yijia was stunned, and turned his head to look at Zhao Fengyao: "Is the prince in poor health?" ”

Although Uncle Wang rarely entered Beijing, the last time she saw him, he was still wearing a robe that he hadn't had time to take off, and he was majestic. She likes the vastness of the Northland, and Uncle Wang often writes to her about the Northland. The words are sonorous and powerful, and there is no sickness at all.

Zhao Fengyao glanced at Zhuo Yijia and nodded: "After the death of the first emperor immortal, my father's body deteriorated. Later, the death of the eldest princess Zhenhui and the queen's mother made the father physically and mentally exhausted. Day by day, it has dragged on until now, and it has almost reached the limit. ”

Saying that, Zhao Fengyao lowered his head, and his voice was a little deep: "If it weren't for Nanshang and Liaobei, I probably wouldn't have been able to hold on for a long time." ”