Ru Yue Shu Yun Feng Wen Wan

On the eve of the Dragon Boat Festival, the southern water towns are already bustling with activity.

The sound of boiling water gurgling came from the covered pot, and a large amount of water vapor squeezed out from the tiny gap, eager to spread in the air.

The rising white mist made the scene in front of me blurry.

Her hair was half tied up, and her long black hair was spread all over the floor. The peach wood hairpin was about to fall off, and as the chair swayed, it was afraid that it would fall to the ground at the next moment, but no sound could be heard. However, the book on her face was covered tightly.

The apricot-yellow coat was soft and thin, with the cuffs rolled up high to reveal fair arms, and the toes and ankles lightly tapping on the ground. The coat hung down against the black hair, making the fresh color seem even more transparent.

There was a green cotton and linen tablecloth half-covered on the low table next to it. If you took out the white porcelain vase with the staggered green bamboos inserted in it, it would probably cover the ground like green silk.

A white mask on the corner of the table is very conspicuous. It is only stained with a few drops of ink to add a touch of darkness to the extreme white. The ink of the unfinished poem has not dried yet and is still carrying the ink drops that have slipped from the mask.

The paper seemed unhappy about being squeezed like this, and it pushed the rolled paper away and rolled outwards, but it still attracted no attention when it rolled to the feet.

Together with the wind, they made a rustling protest.

No matter how hard they try, they can't resist a shout from an outsider.

"Ah Ping!"

A sweet female voice sounded outside the door, and soon hurried footsteps and the sound of the door being pushed open were heard.

The book on his face was replaced by a white mask, and his fingers rubbed the ink onto his outer shirt, with the remaining part imprinted on his chin.

Wen Jiao pushed open the door and saw this scene. He was not surprised. He took out a handkerchief and wiped the ink stains off the mask. He did not forget to tease: "You look like a little cat like this."

Smelling the aroma wafting from the pot, he stretched out his hands and fanned them in his direction, "It smells so good, what did you make?"

Without waiting for an answer, nor getting angry, he found the tools and was about to lift the lid of the pot.

"hold on."

Wen Jiao obediently put down her things, her eyes fixed on the shoes placed aside: "You are not wearing shoes, put them on quickly, come to my house for the Dragon Boat Festival, we will go boating together, and it's a good opportunity to bring the rice dumplings you made..."

Seeing her standing there in a daze, he felt quite amused and helpless: "Did you hear what I was saying?"

He hurriedly brought the shoes to her feet and said, "Put them on quickly. Girls' feet shouldn't be seen by outsiders. If I were a man, I would be responsible for you now."

Seeing that she put on her shoes obediently, he stopped staring at her.

Her hands couldn't help but pick up the poem on the table, but she put it down without even glancing at it. She walked to the window to enjoy the breeze, and the breeze blew through her pink shirt, making it as light as a rose.

But it is not a quiet rose. It keeps twisting its head here and there, refusing to stop for a moment, like an active butterfly.

Finally, I waited until the lid of the pot was opened before I pounced over. I almost fell into the steaming pot and was pulled back. After I stood up, I picked up a small and cute rice dumpling with chopsticks. I couldn't wait to open it. I refused to give up even though my fingers were burned red.

Finally I tasted the delicacy I had been longing for and closed my eyes in satisfaction.

When they went out, they realized how embarrassing it was that only two of them could not carry so many rice dumplings. But seeing that she only took out a small amount, they didn't know what to do, so they just followed her, going back and forth to deliver the dumplings to all the neighbors.

Some people even tried to send rice dumplings to the mansion, but they were always rejected.

Wen Jiao regretted it even more and blamed himself for not bringing anyone with him.

In the end, the two of them still walked all the way carrying the rice dumplings, which made Wen's father very distressed, and he kept calling out anxiously, "Be good."

The two were stuffed into Guifang and not allowed to come out, and someone was also asked to dress Wen Jiao up well.

Just from the look on her face, Wen Jiao knew what her father was up to and was very reluctant.

"Qingping, I don't want to see anyone else. Can you help me?"

"But he's dead."

Wen Jiao would always make a fuss when she heard such remarks, but that was a trick she used to deal with her father and was not necessary among friends.

"But I can't forget him."

"Are you going to keep her forever?"

Wen Jiao knew that this was impossible, and he also blamed himself for not having the determination. After all, it was an out-of-scope option that did not exist in this era.

Silence represents her choice.

"In that case, why not pick a good one that suits your taste now?"

Wen Jiao thought about it and it made sense. In fact, she had been much more cooperative in recent visits than before. The white hair on her father's head made her no longer have the heart to be willful. But after all, there was such a precious gem in front of her, so how could she see anything else?

In a house without a hostess, each daughter has to arrange her own marriage. How could Father Wen bear to leave his daughter alone for such a long time? But as he grows older, he will not feel at ease until he sees her safe and sound.