Hong Fan turned his head and saw that Lu Yunshi was still maintaining the posture just now, looking at the corridor where the wind disappeared on the opposite side with burning eyes.

It was as if the soul was wrapped in incense and half taken away.

Hong Fan patted him on the shoulder.

Lu Yunshi's body was shocked, and he swallowed his saliva, stunned.

He smiled reluctantly at Hong Fan and drank it all, as if he wanted to wash away a figure in his heart.

Most of the people at the banquet were dry and speechless for a while.

Thinking back on the three performances, Hong Fan suddenly understood why Wu Hongyan was particularly disdainful of Pinhua.

The three Hua Yin are actually all martial artists who have penetrated middle and upper level cultivation.

Especially the last Feng Fu, compared with Hong Lie and Hong Bo, it is difficult to say whether he is high or low.

But just looking at her age of about seventeen or eighteen, her talent is already far superior.

Dahua Shangwu.

If not, how can a little bit of beauty affect a city?

Seeing that everyone's cups were empty, Hongli came over to add wine.

However, the hand that has always held the pot very steadily is spilled wine this time.

She exclaimed "ah", and there was a hint of fear on her baby-fat face.

There was no one at the table who was angry.

"Fengxu, everyone is from Mingyue Tower, her singing and dancing, you should have seen it."

Hong Fan said with a smile.

"When you see it today, why don't you give up?"

He casually struck out a stream of flames, and steamed the spilled liquor to dry, waking up the scent of pear blossoms.

Hongli glanced at him and hung her head back.

"The little lady is yearning for the Oiran?"

Hong Fan guessed.

The red lily cheeks are scarlet.

She hesitated for a moment, and saw that his words were sincere and not like a joke, and finally nodded shallowly.

"Oiran is sought after by 10,000 people, and its fame moves in Beijing, who doesn't yearn for it?"

Bai Jiaci said jokingly.

Hearing this, Hongli's face was gloomy.

Bai Jiaci didn't understand what was wrong, and he was at a loss for a while.

Outside the jade column, the three flower yin came out together and were entering the next link.

A rose is thirty taels, a peony is eighty taels, and a flower basket is two hundred taels.

Under the auspices of the chief steward of Mingyue Tower, the rich young masters and sons of the family made a list of flowers for the three flowers, shouting and shouting.

"Liu Xingxian's son gave a flower basket to everyone for their dreams."

"Bai Taiping gave three peonies to everyone who was drunk."

"Prince Jiang Wenbai presented ten roses to everyone in the wind ......"

In the midst of the noise, Hongli turned her eyes away and looked at the pale golden satin screen that separated the world.

Hong Fan followed her gaze and saw a lark embroidered on a branch.

The attitude of spreading wings is fixed in the moment before leaving the branch.

The screen of Mingyue Tower is naturally spotless.

But if you look closely, you can see that the bird's golden feathers have been dimmed by age.

No matter how beautiful the song is, no matter how bright the feathers are.

The bird on the screen is still on the screen even if it is dead.

A sadness suddenly swelled up in Hong Fan's heart, and he turned his face to look at the river.

But Bai Jiaci stared at Hongli's side face for a long time.

At this moment, he felt that he could not even breathe.

······

The ranking on the stage has gone to the end.

In front of Dream and Listening to drunkenness, they each saved a gift of two thousand taels.

And the wind floc is far ahead, about three thousand taels.

The gifts came from two dozen tables, but most of them came from seven or eight of the richest.

Lu Yunshi's table is full of "poor ghosts", so naturally he can't participate.

Except for Hong Fan.

More than a month has passed, and Tianhe's business has been launched.

According to the estimate, it can bring about 10,000 taels of income to Hong Fan Secret a month.

A flower basket of two hundred taels is nothing in comparison.

It's just that in his eyes, the following kind of live broadcast list competition-style roll call reward is really a bit cheap.

"In terms of performance alone, which of the three shows do you think is the best?"

Hong Fan glanced at the pile of flowers in front of Feng Fu and asked.

I didn't expect a few people at the banquet to look at me and I look at you, but they didn't speak.

"It's hard to say, it's hard to say......"

Yuan Xuesong was embarrassed and looked at Zhan Yuanzi.

"It is said that all arts are connected; Brother Zhan, you have superb painting skills, and you should know the most elegance among my generation. ”

"What do you think?"

He asked.

Everyone looked at Zhan Yuanzi.

"Well, if you want to talk about elegance, the three games are very elegant."

It's rare for him to look forward to it.

But seven or eight pairs of eyes forced to star, and they couldn't be confused.

"The pipa of every dream is exquisite, the drunken singing voice is exquisite, and the wind is ......"

Zhan Yuanzi forcibly commented.

Halfway through his words, he couldn't help but think of a picture in his mind.

the slender curves revealed in the flying red clothes;

A beautiful face that passed by in a flash;

and a refreshing fragrance that lingers to this day......

At this time, how can you still remember what pipa singing and dancing?

"Me, I think the third game was the best."

Zhan Yuanzi said, his old face flushed.

As soon as these words came out, the atmosphere in the banquet suddenly exploded.

"Heroes see the same thing."

Lu Yunshi nodded heavily.

"Brother Zhan really understands!"

Yuan Xuesong gently stroked his palm.

"Seconded."

Yan Yulin also said seriously.

"I've always been indifferent to women, but when I think about it, it's true that everyone is slightly better......"

Hongli sat on the side, pursed her lips and held back a smile.

Hong Fan glanced at everyone and raised his glass.

"You all know how to be elegant."

"Full drink!"

A few rounds of pear blossoms have gone white, and there are already results downstairs.

Not surprisingly, Fengfu, which occupies a favorable location, won the title of Xijing Oiran in the 28th year of Zhenghe.

Dreaming and listening to the drunk were slightly lost, but they still kept smiling, saluted and stepped back.

The flower tasting will end here, but it is not over yet.

A girl brought a brocade bag of hydrangea to the stage.

"Today, with the help of all the sons, the concubine gets what she wants, and she is among the flowers."

Feng Fu took the hydrangea and said loudly.

"Such kindness, I can't repay them one by one, so I use this hydrangea to talk about my heart."

"The son who got the hydrangea, the concubine will sweep the couch to greet each other another day, and sing and dance."

At the end of the sentence, the cheers of the guests set the building on fire.

Feng Su smiled lightly, stirrups with his right leg, and climbed all the way until he came out of the red skirt barefoot and was above his head.

The hydrangea is tossed lightly and falls on tiptoe.

The Oiran straightened her whole body, and with a kick of her knees, she sent it ten feet into the air.

In the three-sided building, the true qi flows horizontally.

Some people use no sharp swords, and some people throw melon seeds and peanuts with soft force, in order to recapture the hydrangea without hurting the brocade.

For a time, more than 30 people scrambled up and down, left and right.

Soon, more than a dozen people who had penetrated the realm knew that they were not fortunate and gradually withdrew.

Then several sons of the big clan who sat on the third and fourth floors of the main building entered the game separately.

The rest of the masters foil for a while, and they also quit the competition with interest.

This is the meaning of the title.

At the annual flower fair, it would be too cheesy to say that the person who contributed the most money could get the lottery.

But in fact, everyone knows that the Oiran's hydrangea is a "return gift" for the sons who contributed the most.

PS: When I was writing this chapter, I remembered a famous article by Zhang Ailing, so I used it.

[She is not a bird in a cage, if she opens the cage, she can still fly out.

She was a bird embroidered on a screen—a white bird in a golden cloud on a gloomy purple satin screen.

As the years go by, the feathers are dark, moldy, moth-eaten, and still dead on the screen.

- "Jasmine Chips"]

(End of chapter)