Southerners

Song Zhi looked up, and saw a group of servants carrying trees as tall as two people together, carrying many trees, and carrying them to the yard to plant.

Meng Huan stood watching not far away, saw Song Zhi coming out, and waved to him, Song Zhi trotted all the way, stopped in front of Meng Huan, and called out: "Master!"

Meng Huan asked him, "Do you like it?"

Song Zhi was still in a daze, and asked, "Why did you suddenly think of planting crabapple?"

Meng Huan said, "Didn't you say you liked it this spring? I promised you to plant it."

"Then you don't need to plant such a big one, just a small sapling. Such a big one... What a lot of effort."

Meng Huan smiled: "Small saplings have to wait a few years to bloom, and a big tree will look good when it blooms."

In fact, not long after Meng Huan came back, he was working on Zhang Luo's business. He just wanted to find a few plants that were suitable in size, beautiful in shape, and well bloomed.

Song Zhi's housekeepers groaned and groaned profusely from the heat, and the veins on their foreheads were bulging. She felt a little sorry, but she couldn't bear the joy after all, so she pursed her lips and smiled:

"You are a waste of people and money..."

"What's the trouble?" Meng Huan said, "It's all about wages, and it's too late for them to be happy."

At this time, the leader of that group of men ran over, saluted Meng Huan, and after seeing Song Zhi, he said, "Master, all 11 crabapple flowers are here."

He grinned at Song Zhi again: "Mr. Song is kind-hearted, but we are not afraid of being tired. The young master is grateful for the food. As long as Mr. Song likes it, it is worth it."

A big bastard can actually say such pleasant words, Song Zhi couldn't help but glance at Meng Huan, could it be that Meng Huan taught him?

But in any case, Meng Huan can still remember what he said casually five months ago, and he still does it seriously. There you go, I like it very much.”

The boy grinned, laughed again, and ran away happily.

The two of them watched for a while, the sun had already risen, the autumn air was crisp, the sky was clear and cloudless, there was only one round of bright sun, but it felt a bit dry, Meng Huan then said: "Let's go inside."

When they got to the house, Lian Er tactfully closed the door for the two of them, stood guard outside the door, watched her nose, nose and heart, and stood like a wooden figure.

The wooden man stood there for a while, when he caught a glimpse of a girl sneaking around behind a tree. She was too far away to see her face clearly, but she could only see a silhouette, like a big girl who had lost her body.

After Song Zhi followed Meng Huan into the house, through the window, he could faintly see the servants who were hard at work planting crabapple outside. The location of the crabapple was specially chosen, and he could see it at a glance when he looked up from his window.

Meng Huan saw that Song Zhi had read half of the book on the table, flipped through it, saw that it was Cheng Yi's "Jing Shuo", and put it down again. He didn't have a deep study of Neo-Confucianism, and he didn't have much interest in it, so he smiled. Said: "You haven't written any more "Song of Righteousness", have you?"

Song Zhi was not happy to hear him say this, so she snatched the book and said, "No."

The writing is not written, anyway, it is hung on the bedside of his home in Xingshun Hutong, and he can see it when he looks up.

Meng Huan teased: "Hey, you took so much effort to give the gift, not only did you not thank me, but you also showed me a face?"

Song Zhi: "Repay your kindness!"

Meng Huan continued, "I am not a gentleman."

Song Zhi was choked by him and was speechless.

Meng Huan: "How do you want to thank me?"

Song Zhi hesitated for a while, then said, "Why don't I take a picture of you, okay?"

This answer was not what Meng Huan wanted, but it was a pleasant surprise, so he agreed straight away: "Okay!"

"Do you want to paint now?" Meng Huan asked.

"En." Song Zhi nodded, immediately spread out a piece of rice paper, mixed all the paints, put them aside, and glanced at Meng Huan.

Meng Huan was very cooperative, and quickly sat down on the chair, posing for himself in a pose that he thought was cool but actually was very two hundred and five.

Song Zhi couldn't help being amused, the corners of her lips curved, she lowered her head, and made the first stroke.

But Song Zhi didn't look at Meng Huan very much during the whole process of the photoshoot. Most of the time, she just lowered her head. Meng Huan sat for a long time and felt a little bored, so she asked, "Don't you painters look at people when taking photos?"

"If this painting doesn't look like it, what's the point?"

Song Zhi didn't even raise her head: "Do you know what it means to be mature?"

"Therefore, to draw bamboo, you must first have a well-thought-out bamboo in your mind." Meng Huan knew this sentence, and immediately felt pleased.

Song Zhi didn't show it to him.

"Wait until the painting is finished and then look at it, don't look at it now."

Meng Huan muttered: "You painter, you have a lot of rules!"

Song Zhidao: "Aren't you happy? If you don't like it, you don't want to paint." As if to stop painting.

"Painting and painting! I don't want to read it!" Meng Huan promised again and again.

Song Zhi restrained the corners of her mouth from curling up, and concentrated on painting.What Song Zhi painted was Meng Huan dancing with a spear, wearing a navy blue robe, with a dark red evader dangling from his waist, pointing at the silver spear slantly, his eyes fell on the tip of the spear, his gaze was closer than that of the spear. The tip was even sharper, and the red tassels danced with his movements.And in order to look more heroic and brave, Song Zhi drew him a good left hand instead of a left hand tangled into a pig's trotter.

In order to strive for perfection, Song Zhi drew very carefully, down to the detail of the sea wave patterns on the cuffs.

After a long time, Meng Huan waited until Song Zhicai finally let out a long breath and put down his pen: "The work is finished!"

Meng Huan immediately jumped up from the chair, walked to Song Zhi's side, looked down, and said, darling, the painting is really good.

Meng Huan looked at the painting again and again, admiring it again and again, it was more like himself than himself, and he said that he wanted to frame it and hang it in his bedroom, Song Zhi was a little embarrassed by the praise, Meng Huan suddenly said: " Zilan, what are you doing when you are zipping around?"

Song Zhi stuttered immediately.

Meng Huan still teased: "I tell you to look ahead, where are you looking?"

Song Zhi blushed, and after a while, she whispered, "Look at you."

Meng Huan didn't expect him to be so straightforward, so he glanced at him in surprise, with a malicious smile in his eyes, while carefully putting away the painting with the ink still wet, he said softly: "I haven't seen you for a long time, Your guts are getting fatter!"

"No way." Song Zhi said.

"I think so." Meng Huan grabbed Song Zhi's wrist, pulled and pushed him, and pressed him onto the desk.

Meng Huan's left hand has improved a little these days, Pei Ya came to change the medicine several times, but every time Meng Huan was still tangled into a pig's trotter.

After Meng Huan restrained Song Zhi with one hand, he sighed in his heart: Pei Ya is such a waste, this left hand is too inconvenient.

"Master!" Song Zhi called out.

Meng Huan suddenly remembered that when he did this in the study last time, he hurt Song Zhi, so he quickly let go of his hand, touched Song Zhi's waist, and asked, "Didn't you hit him?"

Song Zhi was afraid of itches, Meng Huan was so itchy as soon as he touched his waist, he blushed and shook his head: "No."

Meng Huan felt relieved, and suddenly remembered that this was not in the study, but in Song Zhi's room with a bed, so he took Song Zhi's hand and led him to the inner room. Song Zhi understood his direction and refused to go. He whispered in a low voice, "Master... can you, it's right here."

He was afraid that when he got inside, something uncontrollable would happen.

Unexpectedly, Meng Huan turned his head and glanced at him, and said, "Could it be that you prefer to be on the desk?"

Song Zhi's face burned up, and she argued, "No..."

Meng Huan smiled: "What are you afraid of, will I eat you?"

Song Zhi thought to herself: I'm just afraid...

Then Meng Huan ignored Song Zhi's resistance, and dragged the man into the room, threw him on the bed with force, and then fell on top of him.

Song Zhi was dumbfounded, pushing Meng Huan's chest.

"Master! Don't..."

"Shh." Meng Huan covered his mouth, "Keep your voice down, or do you think people outside can hear you?"

Song Zhi was even more panicked, she opened her eyes wide and looked at Meng Huan, innocent and helpless, but she was crushed to death.

It's broken, Song Zhi thought.

Meng Huan couldn't bear to be looked at by him, and he was vaguely displeased: Is he so unwilling?He bowed his head and kissed Song Zhi's eyes:

"Don't be afraid, I won't do anything to you."

Song Zhicai didn't believe it.

Because he already felt something against him.

"I'll just hug you." Meng Huan said.

Meng Huan kept his word, and really just hugged him, kissed his ear, and did nothing else.

Song Zhi slowly relaxed.

I only heard Meng Huan ask: "What kind of people are your parents?"

Song Zhi's body tensed up suddenly.

Meng Huan stroked his hair reassuringly and said, "Don't be nervous, I'm just asking casually."

"I asked you before, but you refused to tell me. I just think that ordinary people can't support your kindness... Your parents are not ordinary people, are they?"

Song Zhi's personal safety was still under great threat. She only hesitated for a moment between saying and not saying, and then decisively chose to say that there was nothing she couldn't hide from people anyway:

"My father...is a hero." Song Zhi started like this.

"Originally, he was a famous figure in the court. When my father was an official in Beijing, I lived with him in Lin'an for a few years. Later, my father was demoted because of the main battle, so we moved our family to Tongling."

Tongling is where the battle of Dingjiazhou took place later.

Dingjiazhou is in the north of Tongling County. The battle of Dingjiazhou was in February of the first year of Deyou, that is, in the 12th year of the Yuan Dynasty. The Mongolian army defeated the Song army's land and water resistance in Dingjiazhou and disintegrated the main force of the Song army.

"Later the flames of war spread to Tongling..." Song Zhi chose a more euphemistic way of saying, "Father refused to abandon the city and flee, so he sent me and mother out of the city, while he defended the city and died."

"As for mother, you have seen it too."

When Song Zhi and her mother fled to Pujiang, they almost ran out of ammunition and food, and were stopped by several Mongolian soldiers. Li Hansu was already very weak at that time, and was easily killed by the Mongols. It was at that time that Meng Huan first met Song Zhi and saved his life.

Song Zhi didn't want to recall that period of the past, so she didn't go into details, but gave a rough outline.

But even so, the comparison between the unbearable past and the current situation still made Song Zhi feel disgusted: his parents and relatives were all lost at the hands of the Mongols, yet he was constantly involved with a Mongol, and was still oppressed by him at this moment. Below her... Song Zhi clenched her fists involuntarily, and turned her head to refuse to look at Meng Huan.

Meng Huan only thought that he was sad because he mentioned something sad, so he touched his temple hair and the side of his face, and comforted him softly: "The dead are gone, Zilan, people always look forward."

But people can't forget their roots, Song Zhi thought.

The author has something to say:

Note: The sentence "Gu Hua Bamboo" comes from Su Shi's "Wen and Can Paint Yundang Valley Yanzhu Ji".

It tastes good with some glass shards in the sugar, I'm afraid you will be stunned.