Born a phoenix? The husband I picked up is the young emperor

Chapter 2111

The bonfire was burning brightly and crackling.

After a few drinks, the writers became more and more excited and began to compose poems and couplets on the theme of "Spring Dawn".

When it was Huang Xingyue's turn, he took out two celadon wine cups and gently tapped them together, producing a clear melody.

In the flickering firelight, he sang a tune in a low voice: "You are like a peach in March, and I am protecting the peach branches. Don't let the evening wind blow you away, before you break my waist. I also pray that the rain will not make noise, and the sun will be just right. If anyone asks, just say it is the bird that carries spring, bringing thousands of red threads, all tied to the corners of your clothes, and the red will never fade year after year."

Before the lingering rhythm had faded, everyone was already clapping and praising the performance.

The firelight illuminated Huang Xingyue's slightly tipsy face. The pair of wine cups were still tinkling between his fingers, like the sound of a spring brook.

"We have this kind of ditty in our Liang country, too." For a moment, the people of Liang also began to sing the ditty.

Some sing "You are like the first traces of snow, and I am the warm lamp in the corridor", while others sing "You are like the moon on the eaves, and I am the snow on the tiles".

Folk songs from all over the country are heard one after another.

Wu Yanqing suddenly stood up and picked up a bamboo flute. The moonlight soaked his pale knuckles, and the sound of the flute flowed faintly from between his fingers. It was the song "Green Willow Branches".

Wei Pingting took a look and urged, "Zhu Tou Jiu, go and sing a song. We in the North Wing must not fall behind, hurry up."

Zhu Tou Jiu listened to his wife the most. He stood up and asked Bei Hui, "Where is my guqin?"

Bei Hui turned around and asked Hong Que, who said, "I'll get it."

After a moment, amid the melodious flute sounds and local folk songs, Emperor Wen Xuan suddenly lifted his fingertips, and a string of clear overtones flowed out on the guqin.

He was playing "Yangchun Baixue" but deliberately slowed down the piece by half a beat to blend in with the rhythm of "Liushaoqing", just like willow catkins blowing in the wind and white snow reflecting the sun.

The river surface is dotted with stars, and the sky is stained with the moon. Around the campfire, laughter and praises are heard one after another, and it is hard to tell whether they are from Liang or Beiyi.

This is what the world should be like. No matter where you come from, no matter north or south.

What's leaping on the strings is not only the notes, but also the connected emotions; what's rippling in the wine glass is not only the fine wine, but also the kindness that needs no words.

The bonfire illuminated the world, and also illuminated the simplest wish in the hearts of the emperor and empress: May peace reign over the world and may all people be close to each other.

When the show was over, Huang Xingyue had drunk a little too much. She staggered towards Tang Xinghe and stuffed a piece of paper into his hand. "Here you go. Your mother asked me to write this for you. Take it and use it to comfort your sweetheart."

Tang Xinghe blushed, supported him with one hand, picked up the letter with the other hand, and read it in the light of the unburned campfire.

The book says: Spring is in full swing when the red magpies fly, combing their feathers on the branches, shaking off thousands of clouds. Who spread the rouge on the painting? It makes people mistake the flowers for blooming. I wish the gods would show their wisdom: "Don't let the wind blow hard, don't let the green plums shrink. Let the red corners of your skirt remain, so that we can shine together year after year."

This! It's clearly a poetic version of the little tune just now.

Tang Xinghe whispered, "Thank you, Master Huang."

Huang Xingyue laughed heartily, "I accepted the money from your mother! Don't worry, this little poem is yours alone." He patted Tang Xinghe's shoulder heavily, "General Tang, don't waste this beautiful spring..."

As he spoke, he began to sing the little tune again, "You are like a peach in March, and I am the one protecting the peach branches. Don't let the evening wind blow you away, first bend my waist... clang clang..."

The emperor and empress's carriage was getting farther and farther away from Wangshi Beach and gradually disappeared into the night.

Tang Xinghe sent Lord Huang to the carriage and then turned back, just in time to see Hong Que directing people to pack up.

He squeezed the paper in his hand, finally put it into his sleeve, and then walked forward and called her softly, "Little Red Magpie..."

Upon hearing this, Hong Que took a half step back, folded his hands in front of his abdomen, and performed a very standard bowing ceremony.

The hem of her dark blue skirt swayed gently in the night breeze, just like a subtle arc of ink on rice paper.

"General Tang." She lowered her eyebrows and called softly, her voice three points lighter than the wind blowing through the willow branches.