After the family fell, I wanted to lie down

Chunqiao was also frightened and wanted to help in a panic. She covered him with clothes in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Yingge, who had fallen to the ground, gasped and said, "This won't work. Find a short stick, like this." She instructed Chunqiao to stop the bleeding.

Yingge then arranged for them to clean up each of them and cover the bloodstains on the ground with dirt. There was another busy period, and the two stopped crying in the panic.

"Let's get to town quickly. I'll find a doctor for you."

"No, you can go to town, but you have to take shelter first."

"No, we can't go to town. I just saw Fu Zijing drinking with a group of classmates. If someone finds out..."

"Fu Zijing? Yingge sat up suddenly when she heard this. Okay, let's go there."

"You can deliberately look for them like this, do you want his help?"

After all, Chen Junhe is from a noble family. He knows that noble families are indifferent to human feelings. If you want to ask them for help, they will not agree without certain bargaining chips. "No, no, no, don't think that when you write poems on Duanwu, he will look at you with new eyes. He won't. Let's go find a doctor!"

It was a miracle that she didn't faint from the pain after having her body pierced by an iron rod. How could she still stand and talk calmly?

Yingge was not like what they saw. Yingge stood up and supported Chen Junhe's shoulders. "I know, it's not about going to find him, nor telling him about this, it's that I can't go to the doctor now."

Chunqiao cried, "What should we do? We have to go out."

"Let's go and see what Fu Zijing is doing."

“They seem to be composing poetry.”

"Why are you writing poetry here in the middle of the night?"

"I heard it was some kind of night poetry reading or something."

"What kind of people would compose poems and paint in the middle of the night? The world is so dangerous, but these people don't know the hatred for their country and their families. Instead, they are having fun here. They are really singing and dancing and forgetting their worries about their country!"

Yingge is very...

The restaurant in the town was not very grand, and it was not very lively on weekdays at night, but it was crowded today. More than twenty young men filled the entire hall of the inn. In the middle of the hall were several pots of flowers, some of which were in bud, and some were about to bloom. The young men sat in a circle with fine wine in front of them and a foot-high wooden candle lit behind them. Even without fancy drinking utensils, the young men were still very happy.

The other corner of the hall was filled with folding screens, some of which were half-written, while others were still brand new. Fu Zijing, wearing a dark blue cloth robe, was concentrating on writing. The seniors gathered around him, commenting on his writing, and some were reciting poems tonight under the moonlight.

"The moonlight tonight is not beautiful, not bright enough."

“Maybe, but even without the moonlight, the Epiphyllum will still bloom.”

They were chatting and laughing, and somehow the conversation ended up talking about the poems they had written last time at Yiyuan Yingge's.

"Alas, what a pity! I didn't expect Yingge to not produce better poems in Yi Garden. I praised her so much during the Dragon Boat Festival."

"It's understandable. After all, some people want to be famous, so they create momentum first."

"He is a man of ordinary talent but he is eager to get ahead. However, he is from a small family after all, so it is understandable that he does this."

"He's still young, that's fine, his character is just average, next time I see him, I will..."

There was a loud coughing sound outside the window.

"Senior, how about seeing me again? I'm here now." Yingge said.

Several young men leaning against the window were startled by the sound. The candlelight in the hall slanted and shone on the faces of the young men, making them look slightly pale.

The person who was talking behind someone's back even heard it, and the situation was a little awkward. "Yingge, why are you here at this time?"

This question made the young men in the hall stop what they were doing and look over.

Yingge said, "What a coincidence! Master Junhe and I happened to be passing by."

Young Master Junhe, the young man heard her say this, and sure enough, a young man followed her with a maid with her head lowered. The young man was Chen Junhe. He seemed to be lifted up and took a step forward reluctantly, snorted lightly and stopped talking.

After a while, the hall became lively again, and the two teenagers who were speaking ill of others left the bedside, obviously not intending to talk to Yingge.

Fu Zijing said, "Hello, Master Yingge and Master Chunyang." After saying that, he raised the brush in his hand as a greeting.

Yingge gave him a half-bowing, and Chen Junheshi was half-bowing as well. Fu Zijing did not invite them, but turned around and continued writing.

Yingge took the initiative to greet him, "Master Zijing, are you writing poetry?"

Fu Zijing answered yes.

Yingge smiled and said, "That's perfect. I'm betting on poetry with Mr. Chen and Master He. I'd like Master Zijing and the others to be the judges."

This statement did not arouse as much curiosity as the first time. On the contrary, they showed disdain and ridicule.

Fu Zijing said, "It's a pity that we are writing poems at this moment, so it's inconvenient to comment on other people's poems."

He refused, and Chen Junhe tugged at Yingge's sleeve awkwardly, saying, "How about we go?"

Yingge ignored Chen Junhe's words, but stepped forward and said to Chen Junhe outside the window, "Master Zijing, I have finished the poem that starts with the moon in Yi Garden."

The poem about the moon? Only then did the young men become curious about what he said. Fu Zijing still did not turn around, but just said "Oh" and said, "Then please?"

Yingge did not retreat because of her indifference, but did not step forward either. Instead, he stood by the window and recited to the moonlight, "When will the bright moon appear? The night sky is empty, I raise my wine to ask the blue sky."

Everyone exclaimed, it turned out to be the same as before, and some people showed contempt.

"Hmph, it looks like someone has already bought the second half." Someone chuckled, putting a fan to his lips.

Yingge ignored their comments and continued, "I don't know what year it is in the palace of heaven."

That day, Lu Gongqing took over the second half of the sentence in Yiyuan. The other young men present also tried it and felt pretty good about it. But when they heard Yingge recite this sentence, their previous efforts instantly lost their color.

Fu Zijing turned around at this time and saw the little boy raising his hands behind his back and looking at the moonlight.

"I want to ride the wind back home, but I am afraid that the jade buildings are too high up and cold."

As soon as this sentence was uttered, the audience fell silent. When Yingge finished reciting the rest of the poem, someone in the audience took the initiative to applaud.

Yingge's voice is crisp and gentle, and her intonation is just right. Her tone is like that of an old man who has experienced many vicissitudes of life, generous and relieved.

All the young men in the room lost their expressions, and the hall was silent except for the occasional sound of candles burning and a popping sound.

Oh, the night-blooming cereus has bloomed.

"Layers of epiphyllums, white as snowflakes, are blooming collectively at this moment."

"It's really beautiful," someone sighed, not knowing whether they were talking about the person or the flower.

They had been guarding this night-blooming cereus all night. Now that it has bloomed, they should be admiring and feeling grateful, but now they feel like it doesn't matter.

When the night-blooming cereus blossomed, Fu Zijing didn't even look at it and said, "Who dares to chant about the moon after this poem?"

"Please come in!" This greeting meant to let them in. Yingge just raised her foot to enter, but Chunqiao behind her wanted to step forward to support her, but she implicitly refused. Chunqiao just held back her tears. Chen Junhe walked in with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

This must have been done, as so many people present could prove that she was writing poetry with Fu Zijing and the others and was not paying attention to the garden.

I had been listening to the communication before, but now that Yingge has come in, I don’t know how to communicate anymore.

"Are you sure it was you who wrote it this time, and not someone else?"

Fu Zijing said, "This is something that cannot be bought with money."

Yingge just smiled and didn't say anything.

Fu Zijing's words were equivalent to making a final judgment on Yingge. Everyone thought about it and realized that this poem was so magnificent and majestic, how could others sell what they wrote? Since it had real substance, who would care about that little bit of money!

Did she really do this?

"Did you fail to do it that day in Yi Garden, or did you fail to say it?"

This question was somewhat explosive, Yingge said, "I haven't done it yet, but today I get to see all the talents."

This statement was half true and half false. The young men present looked at each other, but it did make sense to ponder over such a good poem.

Chen Junhe said at this time that we had been standing for a while and if we had any questions, we could sit down and talk about it.

The young man in front of me still needed someone to support him when he walked to the window. Now he can walk alone. How much pain must he have endured?

The young men were about to sit down, but Fu Zijing said, "Yingge, you come here," and then handed her the pen.

Chen Junhe was about to cry with anxiety. Why was it so difficult to sit down and rest? These people were really something. When would they ever stop?

That stubborn man couldn't even lift his right hand, and now he wants to write. How difficult it must be.

If I don’t write, I will be suspected.

Yingge took a step forward without hesitation and stretched out her left hand.

Is Fu Zijing surprised to think of writing with the left hand?

Yingge picked up the pen, dipped it in ink, and started writing.

"When will the bright moon appear?" Yingge wrote while the young man beside her recited along.

Everyone saw that the handwriting of her left and right hands was completely different.

Chen Junhe plopped down on the chair. The young men around him were all paying attention to the poems written by Yingge. No one paid attention to him. The young man in front of him straightened his back, his right hand hanging by his side, writing with ink.

How many things about her are unknown to others? Fighting, writing poetry, killing people, creating with her left hand, and even when she was so seriously injured. Chen Junhe even thought, could it be that she is a monster?

The young men in the entire hall followed the recitation with great enthusiasm. Yingge also wrote very quickly, and soon the plain white paper was filled with large, flamboyantly written characters.

With a clang, the door of the inn was pushed open from the outside, and the horse neighed behind it. The young man in the hall was frightened by the loud noise. He turned around and saw that a group of soldiers had gathered at the door, each holding a torch and carrying a sword.

There was a moment of silence inside and outside, and then both sides came to their senses. After all, they were all children of powerful people and had seen a lot of such scenes.

"What are you all doing here?"

Questions came one after another to them. The general leading the team had a stiff face and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

This ferocious attitude couldn't fool the young men.

"We are gathered together to write poetry, can't you see?" they said in unison.

Are you crazy? Why are you here writing poetry in the middle of the night?

The teenagers were outraged. “Is there any law that says we can’t write poetry in the middle of the night?”

Speaking of the law, "Where did you come from? Who ordered the midnight search?"

When a group of teenagers start to exert their strength, no one can resist them. Moreover, the questions they ask are legitimate because of their status and position. This group of people are backed by noble families, and it is not easy to offend just one family. The leader thought with some headache.

"Of course there are orders, otherwise we wouldn't be patrolling so late at night. Urgent matters are not something you can know about."

When the young men were about to argue, Fu Zijing felt that this was not a solution, so he took the initiative to step forward and asked, "Excuse me, my name is Fu Zijing. Do you have any instructions for me?"

The surname is Fu. This surname is not common in Mo City. The leader looked at Fu Zijing again and asked, "Did you see any suspicious people passing by here?"

Fu Zijing shook his head and said, "We have been drinking and writing poetry in the hall the whole time, and have not paid attention to what is happening outside. The shopkeepers here can testify to this."

The owner of the inn had also come over, nodding and bowing with a slightly uneasy look on his face, and nodded his head repeatedly.