Chapter Seventy-Five: Ma Whatlan?

Qiaoqiao brought the tea, and Zhao Hao saw that the tea soup was clear and bright, the color was emerald green with purple, and there was a faint orchid aroma.

After taking a sip, I felt that my mouth was sweet and refreshing, and it really deserved to be a famous tribute tea.

Only then did he shake his head and say to Xue Lang: "I'm the most afraid of trouble, don't make trouble for me." ”

"I'm afraid it's troublesome to find a donor." Xue Lang also took a sip of tea, but frowned slightly without noticing, and put down the teacup. smiled bitterly at Zhao Hao and said: "It's not a secret, Zhao Shizhu's song "Butterfly Love Flower" has been sung on the bank of the Qinhuai River. Boating and cruising on the river every night, let alone hearing more than a dozen times, 'the most can't stay in the world', makes people's ears calloused. ”

"Uh......" Zhao Hao was embarrassed when he heard this, but he didn't expect Wang Guowei's masterpiece to be turned into a saliva song by these guys.

Well, he himself is to blame.

"But no matter how good the words are, you will get tired of hearing too much." Xue Lang said enviously: "Many famous female histories of Qinhuai River have begged poor monks to invite their sons to visit Qinhuai at night." ”

"Poof......" Zhao Hao almost squirted a sip of tea on Xue Lang's face. I'm still growing at a young age......"

"Of course the poor monk knows that Master Zhao doesn't want to be in the limelight." Xue Lang hurriedly explained: "I will help you block the car without revealing your address, otherwise you are afraid that the room will be full of flowers and the sound of warblers here." ”

"Ahem, ahem, ahem, ahem......" Zhao Hao's little face flushed with a cough, and he didn't know what he was thinking.

Qiaoqiao hurriedly patted him on the back, and at the same time slashed the immodest monk with his eyes.

"Actually, now the whole of Jinling knows that your Zhao family has hated Gao Gong." Xue Lang didn't notice it, and persuaded himself: "Why should Master Zhao embarrass himself? It's better to follow the poor monk in the forest and be the leader of the poetry world, and you can be famous for a hundred years. ”

Zhao Haoxin said It's okay, you didn't persuade me to become a monk with you.

Stabilizing his emotions, he coughed lightly and said proudly: "What do people outside the square understand?" Gao Suqing is flying and domineering, and he will not be tolerated by the princes of the Manchu Dynasty, I think he will not be a university scholar for a few months! ”

To be exact, it won't be three months. But this obviously cannot be said with too much precision.

But even this kind of rhetoric still made Xue Lang laugh dumbly: "Master Zhao is too optimistic. Although the poor monk is an outsider, he also knows that Gao Xin Zheng is the emperor who is highly respected by the saints today. As long as His Majesty is in one day, Gao Xinzheng will not fall. ”

"Not necessarily." Zhao Hao shook his head firmly and said: "One mountain does not tolerate two tigers, I am still optimistic about the merit in the community, and the elder Xu Ge who is supported by hundreds of officials." ”

"Cheesy, it's too cheesy to talk about these flies." Xue Lang suddenly covered his nose and said: "I'm defeated, I'll leave today." ”

"That's a real deal." Zhao Hao hurriedly got up to send him off.

"The poor monk will come again." Xue Lang didn't make him happy for long.

"You'd better tell me what day it is." Zhao Hao sent him to the gate of the hospital.

Xue Lang stood still, looked at Zhao Hao with anticipation, and said, "The donor wants to entertain the poor monks?" I can eat the vegetarian ...... on the side of the pot."

"Uh......" Zhao Hao was going to say, when you come and I will hide out, but I was choked by the snow waves and couldn't speak.

Fortunately, Xue Lang suddenly remembered another matter, patted his forehead and said, "Look at the poor monk's memory, he actually forgot about the business!" ”

Zhao Hao looked at Xue Lang inquiringly, not believing that this brocade monk could have anything serious.

I saw Xue Lang take out a bookcase-sized sandalwood box from under the wide robe.

Zhao Hao's eyes almost didn't fall off, he couldn't see through how this guy could hide such a big box under his robe and still move freely.

Xue Lang said with a smile on his face: "The small skill of carving insects is not enough to worry about." ”

After speaking, he handed the cautious and serious hands of the wooden box to Zhao Hao and said: "This is a letter written to you by the female historians of Qin Huai, looking forward to the reply." ”

Zhao Hao opened the wooden box curiously, and the smell was strange. He swiped at least twenty or thirty letters.

"How do you know them so well?" Zhao Hao couldn't help but ask curiously.

"Isn't that normal?" Xue Lang said with a natural face: "The poor monk doesn't know how many poetry meetings he participates in throughout the year. And if there is no female history to help the poetry club, who else will participate? ”

"Uh......" Zhao Hao didn't know how to complain for a while.

"What's more, there are many literary styles of Qin Huai's female history, and even more on the eyebrows, even the poor monks dare not say victory." I saw Xue Lang Zhengse and said: "Wherever there is real talent and real learning, the poor monks respect it very much." ”

"Really?" Zhao Hao looked at Xue Lang's clear eyes without a trace of impurities, and actually believed his statement.

"Then bother Zhao Shizhu to write a reply, and the poor monk will come back to get the letter in a few days." Xue Lang was willing to be a messenger, and he folded his hands and said goodbye.

~~

In the west room, Zhao Hao closed the door tightly, and neatly arranged the letterhead in the box, and actually set up a full table.

Zhao Hao laughed silently, extremely proud.

Although he didn't plan to deal with those famous prostitutes in Qin Huai, the feeling of being sought after was really cool.

It is estimated that in dozens of lifetimes combined, there are not so many girls who have written letters to themselves, right?

Zhao Hao looked at the unfamiliar names on the envelope, what Zheng Yanru, Jing Pianpian, Zhu Taiyu, Qi Jingyun...... At the same time, it is extremely vain, but it is also a little regretful.

It's a pity that he was born too early, and he has no fate with Qin Huai Bayan, otherwise he could make an exception or something......

If Monk Xuelang knew that Zhao Hao didn't take these female histories in his eyes, it was estimated that he would vomit blood directly. But whoever can talk to Xue Lang and open his mouth to beg him to send a letter, who is not a famous prostitute with both color and art on the Qinhuai River, that is a popular superstar who is flocked to by dignitaries and nobles all over the world!

But there is no way, there are only eight famous prostitutes who can leave a name in history and make people remember hundreds of years later. The rest can only disappear into history, and no one cares about them as they grow old......

When Zhao Hao grew up, the famous prostitutes in Qinhuaihe didn't know how many times they had changed, and of course he was not interested in the 'History of Popular Women'.

After satisfying his vanity, Zhao Hao stretched out his hand and pulled, and those envelopes, which were either elegant or fresh, fell into the wastepaper basket on the table like dumplings.

An envelope with a light ink orchid painted on the cover stubbornly fell outside the paper basket.

Zhao Hao had no choice but to bend down and pick it up, ready to throw it into the basket.

With a wave of his hand, he accidentally caught a glimpse of the name on the envelope, and he involuntarily stopped.

"Ma Xianglan ......"

Zhao Hao read those three words, and the names of the eight women appeared in his mind.

Liu Rushi, Gu Hengbo, Ma Xianglan, Chen Yuanyuan, Kou Baimen, Bian Yujing, Li Xiangjun, Dong Xiaowan!

"There's really a peer." Zhao Hao smiled faintly.

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