The wind stove boils tea, the frost knife cuts the melon, and asks the mash to drink?

The red skirt covers the sand, the slender hands untie the socks, and the tongue is slightly hot.

On the dark red four-plan table, there is a half-foot wind stove. It has three legs and two ears, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, with a charcoal fire burning in the belly, and a pot of sencha on the top of its head, which is fragrant and fragrant, filling the entire hall.

I saw a red dress, black eyebrows and bright eyes, beautiful, sitting and squatting behind the desk generously, pinching a small handful of jade pu fan in her slender five fingers, carefully fanning the wind towards the wind stove, and pursing her lips from time to time to blow lightly, so that the charcoal fire in this furnace will not be too strong, nor too little. Although she was born in a family and is an only daughter, she has been held in the palm of her hand by the elders of the family like a pearl since she was a child, and has never done the work of serving people - but because of her own interests, she is not unfamiliar with this tea ceremony, and knows that only by focusing on controlling the heat can she brew a pot of good tea that is not light or greasy, silky and moisturizing, and full of aftertaste.

Looking to the side from her beautiful body, I saw a purple robe with two words of jade on her waist sitting in the corner. He was tied up in green silk, his eyebrows were delicate, his skin was white and tender, and he held a richly decorated sword in his hands on his legs, obviously the appearance of a prince of a family. However, for some reason, although the look on his delicate face was generally quite natural, and his eyes only calmly looked at the vermilion door in the room, which was not unusual, the sword in his hand couldn't help but tremble slightly, and made a slight sound of sooting.

And in front of the wall half a foot away from the purple-robed boy, there stood a young man in a gray embroidered brocade robe. The young man was also looking at Zhu Men, not squinting, but the red tasseled ash gun in his arms did not tremble at all—it was just that the right hand holding the gun was a little harder, making the nails slightly whiter. The young man's face should be more angular than the purple-robed man sitting on the bench, and he is also a little more energetic between his eyebrows, but it is still more like Wen Yu, which is far from those majestic warriors with stubble and fierce faces.

The two sons stood silently in the corner of the room, staring intently at the closed Zhu door, not looking at or listening to any other movement, not even hearing the clear words of the Zhu Skirt in front of the desk to greet them for tea.

But just because they didn't hear it doesn't mean that no one in the house heard.

In the hall on the left hand side of the two, in front of the bronze mirror that was as long and oval as a goose egg, with patterns carved at both ends of the corners, inlaid with Rui beast patterns, silver but not gold, and beautifully decorated, a petite girl with a charming purple dress and a pair of red eyes stood up briskly, walked to the wind stove with a small brisk step, revealing two sweet dimples, took the white porcelain teacup handed by the red skirt with both hands, and said obediently, "Thank you, Sister Qin!"

Seeing Zhu Skirt smile back, she skillfully raised her hand to lift the teapot, made a cup of warm tea for her, and then had love in her eyes, and whispered, "Be careful." ”

The girl nodded obediently, raised the porcelain cup to her lips, first pursed her small mouth, blew two breaths of the hot tea in the cup, and then opened her lips and took a sip, and immediately smiled, praising "It's delicious!"

Zhu Skirt smiled and touched her head.

Then he looked up and looked into the hall in front of him.

Twenty steps away, there is a hollow flower window with just the right ratio of length to width. The carvings on the flower windows, roughly speaking, should be the four gentlemen of plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum, which can be regarded as quite meaningful.

Outside the flower window, on the wasteland where the yellow sand is flying, there is a wooden cart covered with white cloth, and there is a saber man dressed in black. The man hung his head, his back to the window, and stood quietly in front of the cart, looking at the white cloth, not moving or making a sound. Zhu Skirt wanted to ask her to come into the house for tea, but after thinking about it for a while, she shook her head and dispelled her attention.

In the flower window, on the chessboard of the seventeenth road, there are black and white snakes, fighting and biting each other, head and tail linked, killing a thrilling, killing out of the dark - and then there is no movement.

The chess game on the chessboard stayed as it was yesterday, the white son threw the son to admit defeat, the black child did not retreat, and the soft cushions on both sides of the chessboard were also empty, neither a touch of plump and mature purple, nor a black and white coat of yin and yang.

The red skirt blinked, turned around, and looked at the two sons and daughters in the corner.

She kind of understood what they were worried about.

But she didn't understand why they were worried.

However, this idea is also based on the premise that she is very familiar with this master - if you put yourself in the shoes of the people, think about the fact that this gray-robed boy and his party have exhausted their organs, and the result is that they are only in the bureau of the three saints of this Qimen from beginning to end and all the way, naturally there will be some worries.

Worry is worry.

If you don't drink the tea, it will be cold.

I saw Zhu Skirt coming sideways, and wanted to shout to the two of them again and ask them to come and have tea.

But I didn't want to open my lips just as soon as I heard the sound of pushing the door and rushing into my ears.

Zhu skirt is fluttering, I didn't expect it to be so fast.

The two sons were stunned, and blinked their eyes in unison, one stood up straighter, the other sat up straighter, and opened his eyes even more nervously.

In front of the slowly open vermilion door, a white dress wrapped in bandages, with empty hands, staggered out with staggering steps.

I saw that he raised his eyebrows and glanced at the room, which was more empty than yesterday, and was slightly stunned, and then brushed his sleeves with both hands, took a long breath, and bent over, politely.

"Good morning. ”

There is a mellow male voice, which comes out of his lips, which is slightly difficult.

"Xiaosheng, I'm bothered. ”

。