My historian is dying every day

Parting ways, there was still a bit of relief, but unexpectedly, Wen Yanzhi said to him with a solemn face: "Second brother, if you don't have enough money for the digging that Qi Yu told you about, then I'll give it to you again." make up."

"...?" Hearing this, Wen Xizhi felt an inexplicable blood choked in his throat, and before he could utter a word, he heard his younger brother say without thinking: "It's better to be close to the lotus pond of that old man's house." Forget it, maybe we can drop by at that time, that would be great."

When the chief minister of the court, Taishi Wen, silently listened to his brother's shameless and bastard words, he raised his finger to the gate of Wen's residence: "Get out, get out of here."

And his younger brother said with a serious face while rolling out: "Second brother, you are too serious, this is not good, you should smile more."

The next moment, amidst Master Wen's roar of "Get out of here quickly", the last day of June in the capital slipped away quietly.

That night, it was raining all over the sky, as if the daughter's family had watched the theater cry, and the ground fell down, and it was a cool autumn.