Entering the back room, the silver and red shadow veil on the window looked so warm and hazy in the flickering candlelight, and Yinzhen seemed to be softened by the silver-red dark light The cold and hard lines. For a while, a calm and warm atmosphere slowly flowed in the room.

"Master, Gege, refreshments are ready." Su Xin's voice sounded behind the curtain. The silence in the room seemed to be interrupted, Huizhu woke up from a short trance, walked to the door, opened the curtain, took the tea tray in Su Xin's hand, and looked at Yinzhen and said, "Master, drink some hot tea." Yinzhen didn't look back, but responded lightly: "En." ”

When Huizhu picked up a cup of tea and was about to hand it to Yinzhen, she saw Yinzhen sitting at the desk and asking, "Are you still watching "Marco Polo's Travels"?" Huizhu glanced down at Yinzhen and walked to the desk, and replied in a low voice: "The concubine just looks at it occasionally to pass the time, and she doesn't care much." After saying that, he respectfully offered the teacup. Yin Zhen took the tea cup and touched it lightly, and Huizhu couldn't help but be a little stunned by his slightly cold fingers.

Yin Zhen glanced at Huizhu, then took the tea cup she handed over, but his hand paused slightly. Her person and her room complement each other perfectly, the warmth of the room, the warmth of the delicate fingers. Gently took a sip and put it down at will, seeing a few verses of the Heart Sutra written on the rice paper, Yinzhen said with some surprise: "Do you like Buddhist scriptures?" Huizhu, who asked a sentence, widened her eyes, glanced at the few sentences she wrote at random in the afternoon, hesitated, and murmured: "This, well, there is nothing to do in the afternoon, practice writing." It is probably because the concubine was grounded a few days ago and copied the "Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra" a few days ago, so she remembered it and practiced writing from time to time. However, if you don't know its name, you can still call it "Heart Sutra" directly. "You can't let him think that he likes the Buddhist scriptures and gets noticed.

Yin Zhen felt even more surprised at this time, this woman who was always cautious and silent in front of her, now said so many things to explain, but it was just a very simple question. But I was also a little surprised, in this woman who has no maiden background and relies on herself, she doesn't have to think about the meaning of every sentence. Woman...... Looking at Huizhu, who was a little cramped because she didn't speak, she had to be careful with any of her casual expressions, and she didn't need to spoil Huizhu herself. I couldn't help but be a little happy, and said: "The words on the paper look neat, but there is actually no font glyph, you grind the ink." ”

Hye-joo was thinking about whether she had provoked him with any words, and she was a little uneasy. But after he was silent for a while, he said that his handwriting was not good. The eldest brother said that it was rumored that he was moody, so he believed in Buddhism, and it seemed to be true. It's not scary to pretend to be deep like this. Huizhu reconsidered in her heart, but her head was lowered, and she polished the ink obediently. The ink was originally good, and now the grinding is also making it thinner. Yin Zhen took a closer look at the vermilion pen holder, and then turned his head to Huizhu and said in a very light tone: "The writing is not good, the posture is quite sufficient, there are so many good brushes in the pen holder, I don't know which calligrapher I think." After speaking, he picked a brush with a brown barrel in the pen holder and prepared to write.

The hand of grinding ink couldn't help but tremble, he has been practicing calligraphy for seven or eight years, and he is always very satisfied with the small block he wrote, but now he is so disgusted, and the person still has an expression of indifference. I am already a little acute in some things, and I can't see anyone to say. Now, my heart is a little blocked, and I really want to ask what is not written well. Thinking that the person in front of him was the one who could take his own life, he had to squeeze his hands and grind the ink.

When Yinzhen took the pen and planned to write the "Heart Sutra" "No wisdom and no gain" to Huizhu, he felt a wave of anger around him. Turning her head to look at the person who was angry, she, unaware, lowered her head and grinded the ink fiercely, because her chest was rising and falling in anger. Huizhu is plumper than the girl under her age, and at this time, she looks like a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl. Yin Zhen felt funny in her heart, she was still a little girl who couldn't restrain her temper, and she would be dissatisfied if she didn't write well. Simple and real, don't bother to think about it yourself. Recalling the warmth on her hand just now, Wan Er said, "Sit down, I'll hand you a few words." ”

What, the only seat he sits, what do he sit. Taught himself to write with an indifferent face, wasn't he extremely cold to himself? Here's what it's for. When Huizhu was stunned, she was instantly pulled into a chest with hard lines. A cold hand held his hand holding the brush, and there was a strange and familiar breathing sound in his ears, and bursts of exhaled hot breath hit his face. The contradiction between heat and cold made Huizhu a little trance-like, but this person kept coming to mind that this person was really moody, plus smoldering.

The back of the person in his arms was a little stiff, and the sound of breathing seemed to be almost inaudible, Yin Zhen once again felt that what he was doing was right, a powerless and simple woman, very good, but a good place for recreation. The hand he held was a little fleshy, not a jade finger, but weak and boneless; The body held in his arms was soft, and from time to time there was a faint fragrance of lotus flowers accompanied by the ink fragrance on the inkstone, and it was shrouded in silver-red windows, but the red sleeves added fragrance. So he gave up the Buddhist scriptures he wanted to write, tightened the frightened and helpless Huizhu in his arms, and wrote on rice paper, "The tortoiseshell feast is drunk in his arms, and the hibiscus tent is Naijun." Feeling that the body of the person in his arms was even stiffer, the corners of his mouth were faintly curled in the place where Huizhu didn't see it. At this moment, Huizhu's brain boomed, is this the cold noodle king that is said outside? Yan Shi, this is definitely Yan Shi, she was molested in the arms of an ancient, Huizhu was a little confused at this time, and she didn't seem to be able to accept it.

Over the years, he has been paying attention everywhere under the prince, step by step. The comfort of this youth has been gone for a long time. The root of his own man's evil is probably only given by a powerless and simple woman, who was Wu a few years ago, and now he is in his arms.

Nephrite was in her arms, and suddenly there was a burst of eagerness. Yin Zhen simply picked up the delicate woman in his arms and fell to the kang closest to the desk. Huizhu already knew his intentions, and in vain he was sober and calm, this changing state of mind was a little unchangeable for a while, and he struggled slightly unconsciously, and he felt very clearly that he had become this man's plaything, and his self-esteem was being eaten bit by bit. But I remembered that it was the Qing Dynasty three hundred years ago, and forget it, this is not the first time that I have had a relationship, and I can't resist. But the tears of grievance slipped down his face silently.

The silver-red shadow veil on the window, the warm hot kang, and the flickering candlelight from time to time all make everything look so beautiful. Yin Zhen's eyes narrowed, pressed Huizhu on the kang, untied the gown on his body with his backhand, and threw it on the ground.

Hye-joo felt that her self-esteem had been badly stabbed again, and she didn't care about anything else, crying as she struggled, "Don't ...... No...... Let me go. Yinzhen, who was untying the vest, raised his head, looked at Huizhu with tears, and stared straight into her eyes, Fang gasped and said, "What's wrong?" Suddenly, Huizhu was still woken up by a basin of cold water, held back her tears, shook her head, and said in a trembling voice: "No, master, go to bed." ”

After hearing Huizhu's words, I thought it was funny, ignored it, lowered my head and bit her neck a few times before looking at Huizhu. A shy and tearful face, and his body trembled slightly. Yin Zhen suddenly felt more interested, kissed her cheek, and lowered her head again.

At this moment, Huizhu only felt that Yinzhen had a ruthless energy. The man unbuttoned her long cheongsam, tore her undershirt, passed through the water through the azure bandeau, and bit down heavily on her chest, which hurt. Yin Zhen found that the person under him was trembling, so he left his chest and kissed the corner of Huizhu's mouth, but his hand was rough, and he ripped open his bra and pressed it heavily.

Yinzhen's breathing gradually increased, and Huizhu was also confused, only knowing that there were bursts of pain in her body.

……

The warm room was as warm as spring, and the wheezing sound was constant...... The red candles on the silver candlestick are swaying slightly, illuminating the beautiful smoke and rain pictures of the mountains and rivers on the west wall and the two intertwined figures......

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