The saint in the palace did not directly judge the two difficult works of the women's poetry club, but the things appreciated were already clear, especially the woman who personally rewarded the brocade robe she wore and wrote "Dream Like a Hook", which shows that the degree of favor is different.

When the news came out, there were several happy and some worried, and some people even began to re-talk about the uproarious divorce incident a few days ago.

However, when the Su family Yiniang was mentioned again, there was a little more admiration on their faces, and there were a few people who dared to speak out openly for Su Yiniang.

Tao Jiuniang was already sitting in the carriage and horse returning home at this time, looking extremely indignant and aggrieved, and kept complaining to herself to the close maid in front of her:

"Okay, you Su Yiniang, it's really insidious, don't you say that you have amnesia and forgot some things, how can you still compose poems in life, and you write so pretentiously and moaning deliberately, you unknowingly snatched the position of the poet, I really underestimated you."

The maid persuaded in fear: "The saint's reward for Jiu Niang is not light, how precious the imperial golden jade bowl is, if you go back to the mansion and let Ah Lang know, you will have to praise Jiu Niang again, and the Lang Jun and the little lady in the rest of the rooms will only favor Jiu Niang." ”

"What do you know", Tao Jiuniang rolled her eyes angrily: "Why do I need their favor, let that poor vinegar girl get the poetry, if it reaches the ears of San Lang, it will inevitably rekindle the old love, I have worked hard to plan these days, and my previous efforts have not been in vain." ”

As she spoke, she glanced at the maid again: "Have you ever found out where San Lang is today?" ”

The maid pursed her lips, but she was not sure: "It seems that a person went to the Persian Mansion in the West Market." ”

"Oh, then hurry to the Persian Mansion."

"Persian Mansion?"

The maid was frightened when she heard this.

Tao Jiuniang glared angrily: "What, where she Su Yiniang can go, I can't go." ”

The maid didn't dare to refute, but said timidly: "Don't you go home, Ah Lang and Aunt Tian are waiting for Jiuniang to go back to celebrate." ”

"What is there to celebrate", Tao Jiuniang frowned dishappily: "It's not a poet, it's important to go to find San Lang." ”

......

It was nearly evening, and the Persian Mansion in the West Market was already overcrowded.

Since Zhenguan, the number of Hu people who come from Fanbang vassal countries and overseas countries thousands of miles away is innumerable, and these Hu merchants are most popular among the Tang people in the wine shop in Chang'an City, and there is already a poem "Where to go to the fallen flowers, laughing in the orchid wine shop." ”

Even though the price of liquor in the Hu people's liquor store is many times higher than that of the ordinary liquor store, the people of Chang'an still rush to it as a pursuit.

Among all the Hu liquor stores in Chang'an City, the most popular business is the Persian Mansion in Xishi.

The charming and colorful "Hu Xuan Dance" and the mellow and delicious wine attracted the drinkers to indulge in it and linger.

Located in the innermost wing room on the second floor of the Didian restaurant, since the beginning of the business, there has been a mysterious customer, who is also a frequent customer inside, and he is handsome and outstanding, and every time he comes, he will attract the orchids of the Didian to look forward to it.

However, this regular guest did not come here like other drinkers, looking for a famous Ji to accompany and ask about Fengyue, but more because the owner of this mansion had an unusual relationship with him.

In the secluded and elegant room, the handsome drinker held the Baling Gold Cup in his hand, gently shaking the mellow wine in the cup, always looking absent-minded.

Suddenly, there was a soft push of the wooden door, followed by the subtle sound of the curtain being lifted.

The handsome man looked and saw a foreign woman with a face as white as snow walking in.

The woman was tied with a long silk silk, wearing a large-sleeved acacia shirt, wearing blue sky and beautiful jade ornaments, and her hair bun was charming and enchanting.

The woman walked up to the handsome man, waved her plain hand, and brushed the lamp next to her, and the flame immediately rose a little higher. Then he sat down slowly, casually looked at the dull man in front of him, and showed an intoxicating smile like a spring breeze:

"Today, the Furong Garden has attracted much attention, the literati are all knowledgeable and beautiful, so it is not lively, but San Lang is sitting in my wine shop, neither drinking nor speaking, looking down on the hot and cold state of the world, but it makes the evil moon do not know what to do."

The San Lang in her mouth is the salt merchant Zhao Jiazaburo Zhao Yuanbai.

Zhao Yuanbai raised his head and glanced at the woman lightly, and said with a wry smile: "The holy woman is also coming to make fun of me Zhao today." ”

This woman's identity is also unusual, she is the Evil Moon Holy Maiden, a descendant of the Persian prince of the Persian royal family, but she has lived in Chang'an for a long time and has long been unknown to her homeland.

I saw her lift her sleeves and pick up the golden cup from the table, take a shallow sip, and said calmly: "San Lang said that I laughed, I just don't want to watch you be so depressed all day long." ”

Zhao Yuanbai picked up the golden cup and poured a sip of wine.

"I heard that the little lady on the tip of your heart went out of the city yesterday?"

The Evil Moon Holy Maiden stared at him, saw that he was silent, and then said to herself: "This is really unfortunate, I just heard Leng Chan come back and say that there were two good poems on the side of the Women's Poetry Club today, which made it difficult for the assessors to decide, and finally came to the sage before he reluctantly came up with a result, such a talented woman, don't you think it's a pity that San Lang missed it?" ”

"A woman of the world?" , Zhao Yuanbai sneered: "This magnificent woman in Chang'an City is sitting in front of me at the moment, what do I feel sorry for, what poetry club, I'm afraid that I am some people who sell their reputation again." ”

When the Evil Moon Holy Maiden heard him praise herself like this, her face was slightly red for a while, and she actually showed a shy expression.

However, watching him calmly refill the wine and drink it all, it was just a joke, and he didn't dare to care, so he calmly took out two pages of poetry from his sleeve, and read softly to himself: "Last night's rain sparsely sparse last night's wind, and the remnants of the sand entered the city........"

After reading the last two sentences in a row, he saw that he had no reaction, and couldn't help but sigh deliberately: "This Tao family Jiuniang is very good, but it is a pity that she is not favored by the saint, and she missed the poet after all." ”

"Moaning without disease", Zhao Yuanbai snorted disdainfully: "Chang'an City has been dry for more than a month, where is the wind and rain?" ”

"Oh, then I don't understand", the Evil Moon Holy Maiden turned out the second poem, knowing that the poem was written by a mother of the Su family, but deliberately teased him: "The three poems of this poem "Dream Like a Hook" also mentioned the cold wind and rain, why it is not criticized by others, it is really incomprehensible. ”

Saying that, she deliberately slowed down, and slowly read out almost word by word: "Last night, Xiaomeng's old face, Chu Ying was still vaguely moved. ”

When she finished reading the third and fourth sentences, she looked at Zhao Yuanbai, only to see that his face was slightly gloomy, obviously attracted by the poem, and he still muttered in his mouth: "Acquaintance is unprovoked and empty, and I miss it if I don't miss it." ”

"The pavilions are cold and rainy, and the best time is like a dream. It is difficult to have love since ancient times, and the spring is still in the old people. ”

After the Evil Moon Holy Maiden finished reciting the second poem, Zhao Yuanbai only felt that every sentence was scratching people and piercing his heart, and he was already extremely sad.

The Holy Maiden of the Evil Moon couldn't help frowning with some distress, and continued to read the poem seriously with bitterness:

"Qing Ruochen dreams of me, and a red bean lingers alone. Don't ask where the infatuation goes, and there is no lovesickness and no fate. ”

Zhao Yuanbai froze there in a daze, and whispered repeatedly: "Don't ask where the infatuation goes, there is no lovesickness and no fate." ”

The Evil Moon Holy Maiden smiled indifferently: "If it is according to San Lang, I am afraid that this poem will not be suspected of moaning without illness." ”

"Well, if you just look at that sentence, you really can't avoid it, but it's just ......"

He stopped talking abruptly at this point, thinking about the last two lines of the poem, still surging and unable to extricate himself.

The Evil Moon Saintess looked at him with a look of uncontrollable pain, and she couldn't tease him anymore, so she had to say frankly: "I really didn't expect the Su family to write such a seductive poem, but I underestimated her." ”

"Who?"

"Oh, it is said that she is also a woman named Su Zhining", the Evil Moon Holy Maiden pursed her lips and pretended to be calm: "The saint also rewarded the Mid-Autumn Festival imperial banquet, but it's a pity that ......."

Zhao Yuanbai excitedly snatched the poem from her hand and examined it again, and then glanced at the Evil Moon Holy Maiden with resentment, she was a little annoyed by her play, but it was not easy to come out.

At this moment, his mind was full of thoughts about Suning'er's appearance, silently reciting "Don't ask where the infatuation is, there is no lovesickness and no fate", and he hurriedly walked out of the wing room with the excitement in his heart.

Watching him leave in a hurry, the Evil Moon Holy Maiden picked up the page of poetry again, read it again silently, and then shook her head gloomily: "Don't ask where the infatuation goes, there is no lovesickness and no fate." ”