In December of the ninth year of the Southern Tang Dynasty, the yellow sand was all over the sky, the wind was bone-chilling, the beacon fire and wolf smoke drifted farther and farther away in the direction of the Southern Han Dynasty, and the flying ash of the battlefield trampled by the Jin Ge Iron Horse blew people's eyes, but it could not blow the clothes and sideburns on the banks of the Qinhuai River, and could not disperse the warm fragrance of nephrite in Jinling City.

When the moon was in the sky, Murong was wearing a scarlet robe, driving a white horse, stepping on the bluestone road, along the bank of the Qinhuai River at the beginning of the lanterns, and came with flowers and willows.

The breeze of the horse's hooves blew through the painting boat around the warbler and the swallow, and stopped in front of the door of the Fusheng Museum.

The Fusheng Pavilion is a tavern standing in the alleys of this flower street, and unlike ordinary places for fun, the Fusheng Pavilion only sells alcohol but not laughter.

There is a lack of daughter red in the aroma of the wine, and no matter how wonderful the wine is, it seems to have a little less taste, so on weekdays, the floating hall is the clearest place in the whole street.

It is precisely because of its style that it attracts most of the literati and artists with status.

Murong Qiansu loves to linger here, not only because the peach blossom wine in the Fusheng Pavilion is sweet and mellow, and the tail is long, but also because of this, he is avoided from the government and the opposition and hidden in the downtown area, which can allow him to temporarily abandon the identity of the sixth son of the emperor and be a son of a family who is obsessed with Hanmo.

Today's Fusheng Hall is surprisingly lively, with a circle of people bustling around the door, all leaning out and squeezing into the house.

A sharp-eyed protégé caught a glimpse of Murong Qian, struggled through the crowd, and greeted him.

"Murong Gongzi, you're here!"

The protégé looked at Murong Qian deeply.

Murong Qian lifted the corner of his robe, flew off the horse, and frowned slightly: "Ah Li, what's going on?" ”

"Childe, you don't know? Someone is going to board the 'Wind Flower Snow Moon' platform today! ”

Ah Li took the reins from Murong Qian's hand, and his eyes danced with surprise that could not be concealed.

"Oh?"

Murong Qian raised his eyebrows and smiled, "Someone can actually climb the 'Wind Flower Snow Moon' platform, I thought it was just a legend?" ”

Surrounded by the corridors of the Fusheng Museum, in the middle of the open air, there is a "Wind Flower Snow Moon" made of thousand-year-old ice

Taiwan, no one knows when it appeared or where it came from, just like this floating museum, quietly floating through thousands of years, quietly avoiding the washing of the times.

Legend has it that only the peerless dancing fairies can stand on this ice surface and dance, and when dancing, the ice gradually melts, which can startle a strange scene of wind and snow.

Murong Qian was interested, and laughed loudly: "Let me go and see the demeanor of the beautiful woman!" ”

As he spoke, he jumped through the crowd and stepped in the door.

"Childe, Lord Zhou has already prepared the upper room for you!"

As soon as he entered, Liu Ruomeng, the proprietress of the Fusheng Pavilion, greeted him with a light smile.

"Thank you for his kindness, no need!"

Murong Qian usually disliked the important ministers of the court to interfere in his private affairs, so he turned around and was about to go elsewhere.

Liu Ruomeng didn't step forward to stop him, and waited for Murong Qian to walk to the door before he stretched out his hand with a smile: "The dance is about to start, Childe, please upstairs!" ”

The Fusheng Pavilion was full of seats, mixed with fish and dragons, Murong Qian naturally did not want to live with these reckless people in the rivers and lakes, let alone fight for a seat, and lost his demeanor in vain, so he had to temporarily accept the upper room arranged for him by Situ Zhouzong.

opened the warm pavilion, and a faint aroma of wine rushed to his face, gently lingering on the tip of his nose, bringing a smile on Murong Qian's face.

Murong Qian looked around, the furnishings and arrangements were all famous products, with excellent style, exquisite and elegant, and it could be seen that a lot of thought had indeed been spent on this.

Murong Qian slowly paced to the edge of the pavilion, the upper room was really exquisitely designed, covered by an ethereal curtain, which not only protected the guests' **, but also did not affect the viewing, it was indeed an excellent place.

"Ruomeng, today's dancer is ......"

Murong walked back to the side of the dwarf.

"The first dancing girl in the Southern Tang Dynasty - Hun Qingchen 1 Liu Ruomeng's eyes were shining, and he said with a smile.