"What's the name of this pipa song?"

""Give to Tanlang""

"Is it a gift?"

"Um!"

Ouyang Rong asked with a smile:

"Can you tell me what the name of the person who gave the song?"

Luo Niang smiled sadly:

"I have left Luoyang and I am already nameless. As the little adult said, why do you have to know each other when you meet? What is the name of it doesn't matter, what is important is meeting."

Ouyang Rong nodded and said word by word:

"All people in the world are unknown people."

Luo Niang's shaking body was calmed down, and a trace of crystal clearness condensed in the corners of her eyes.

Ouyang Rong asked in a breath of alcohol:

"Mrs. I always dream of being a young man. Do you want to go back to Luoyang? You can do your best."

Luo Niang's body trembled, as if she was a little excited, but then she slowly returned to normal.

She whispered:

"I am not young anymore, I have already gotten married with peace of mind. I want to be down-to-earth for the rest of my life."

Ouyang Rong nodded:

"If you are wronged in the future, you can come and find it."

Luo Niang nodded and shook her head again:

"Although I am a businessman, I value profit and disdain, I am not bad at nature. The slave has seen many people's hearts in the romance and misfortune, and it is also a posture of losing the willows. It is not considered as a mistake."

"Okay. Then let me go for you." After a pause, he repeated again: "Go for you."

She was puzzled:

"you?"

Ouyang Rong said calmly:

"You are you. The prosperous age is not the prosperous age of one person, and Luoyang is not the Luoyang of one person. Without you, it is a prosperous age and Luoyang."

Luo Niang seemed to understand but stared at Ouyang Rong surprisingly seriously, stood up with a pipa in her arms, bent down and bowed:

"Okay, I thank you little lord."

Not sure what she thought of, she said with a smile:

"If you can hear the story of the little adult in Luoyang and other places in the future, you will be the same as when I went there myself. It's great that I feel the same as I have. I have hope for this day."

Ouyang Rong's body was drunk and shook, and he also said with a smile:

"My wife gives me a pipa song, and I will give you a gift. At the night banquet at Xunyang Tower, can the pipa song that the lady learned from the place of the old senior, be fully played again?"

Luo Niang was stunned for a moment.

Ouyang Rong hummed:

"It is a song of old friends, of course it has to be played to old friends, but it is also the meaning of old friends."

Luo Niang nodded obediently, sat down again, and played the pipa seriously.

Soon, a different sound of a pipa sounded in the pleasure boat.

Sometimes it is like the sound of birds singing smoothly under the flowers, and sometimes it is like the sound of water flowing under the ice, hard and low, and whimpering.

The familiar sound of the pipa wraps around the ears.

Ouyang Rong held a glass of wine, turned around and walked towards an inconspicuous small coffee table in front of him, drinking while walking, and the wine in the glass swayed and splashed down with his body.

Luo Niang and everyone's eyes looked in the direction he was walking, and found that there were paper, ink, pens and inkstones used by merchants to settle accounts on the small coffee table.

Ouyang Rong sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table. After laying the paper, he touched the brush drunk, put it in the ink and dipped it in the ink, and then returned to the paper to put the brush, but was stunned.

There are no words on the paper, there are inkstones and no ink, and there is no ink stain.

Ouyang Rong looked around and remembered something, touched his sleeves.

After a while, he was stunned for a moment, and looked down at him, only to find that a "long-legged" ink ingot had slipped out three feet.

The young man in Confucian shirt picked up the small ink ingot that was conscious of the "danger", took the initiative to run away, threw it into the inkstone, calmly revisiting the ink ink, and squeezed out the ink juice.

After a while, after the inkstone was finished, he dipped ink and held the pen, lowered his head and started writing.

Although the sound of the pipa continued, Hu Fu, Yuan Huaimin, Yi Qianqiu and others surrounded him in a little confusion, curious about what Ouyang Rong was writing.

"Lianghan, you..."

Yuan Huaimin had a faint premonition. Halfway through speaking, he had already come behind Ouyang Rong and saw the rows of words on the paper clearly. His words stopped abruptly and his eyes were attracted by the piece of paper.

Hu Fu, Yi Qianqiu, and Miaozhen were also curious to come to Ouyang Rong and looked over. Gradually, their figure was fixed in place.

Although Yan Liulang followed the end, he had sharp eyes and saw clearly the words on the paper through the crowd surrounding him.

He scratched his head at first:

"Is this a poem or a lyric? Why is it like a long song...Pi Pao Xing..."

Pei Shisanniang was responsible for pouring wine for Ouyang Rong, following him all the time, watching faster. She stared at Ouyang Rong's paper and murmured:

"Sending guests at the head of Xunyang River at night, maple leaves and reeds are shining in autumn... The master dismounted the horse and was on the boat, holding wine and drinking without orchestra... He started to come out after calling out, and he still hugged the pipa half-covered his face... I suddenly dreamed of being a young man late at night, and the dream was crying and tearless...dry..."

As she chanted, her voice disappeared, leaving only her eyes unbounced.

The faces of the people around him also showed serious expressions, and he looked at the new poem silently, as if immersed in it.

Hu Fu's mouth became dry and he couldn't help but pick up the wine glass next to him, moistening his lips, but his eyes still couldn't escape the paper.

Yuan Huaimin's eyes gradually turned into copper bells, with an incredible shock. He repeatedly looked at the young man in Confucian shirts who were writing, as if he was confirming something.

Compared to the literary dragons that my friend showed, and his literary talent with every word, Yuan Huaimin was even more surprised. He wrote such an article in one go without pause.

Ye Weilai helped hold the wine glass and stood aside, looking at Luo Niang with a little face, suddenly became a little envious of Luo Niang.

With the writing of this long poem, a sad atmosphere gradually spread around.

The sound of the pipa at this moment also came to an end.

Seeing that everyone was still moving around the young man in Confucian shirt and the small coffee table, Luo Niang couldn't help but stand up, walked with the zither, frowned and came to the side of the coffee table, and looked down.

After a few breaths, the woman in the pipa felt as if she was struck by lightning, covering her mouth with her palms and choking.

"This... this is given to the slave..."

Ouyang Rong wrote ink, his face was drunk, as if he didn't notice the people gathered around him. He threw away his brush, took the wine glass from Ye Weilai, raised his head and drank loudly, walked back to his seat, and left the small coffee table for everyone.

Luo Niang and everyone were attracted by "Pipa Xing", and they stayed at the table and stood for a long time.

Luo Niang whimpered and cried; Yuan Huaimin was touched by any words, but shed tears, hugging the red-eyed Yi Qianqiu; the others covered their faces and cried.

Ouyang Rong sat aside, ignoring everyone, as if laughing drunk, and grabbed a jar of wine on the ground with his big hand, raised his head and poured it down, and drank it loudly.

The rolling wine leaked out of his chin, wetting a large piece of clothes on his chest.

Ye Weilai had red eyes and lowered her head, and immediately returned to Ouyang Rong's side.

She bit her lip and took out a handkerchief and wiped his chest.

"Tanlang..."

The silver-haired girl's palm was penetrated into the young man's chest.

There was no obstacle in the middle and I touched the wall behind.

The little hands penetrated his body.

She stared blankly at the golden halo where the palm of her hand touched Tan Lang's chest, and her pupils widened.

Emperor Wen's prosperous age is like a dream bubble.

The body of a young man in Confucian clothes is like dew and lightning.

You should make such a view.

When Ye Weilai's face was panicked and unable to grasp his sweetheart, the tears in his eyes looked back after hearing the sound.

Ouyang Rong's face showed drunkenness, like a jade mountain about to fall, the girl's jade legs were drunk, and the golden sword energy on her body flashed by and disappeared without a trace.

Ouyang Rong seemed to be amused by the panicked expression still on the face of the silver-haired girl, and pointed at her and laughed loudly.

"Hahaha……"

As he smiled, he didn't know whether it was drinks or tears, the Sima blue shirt in Jiangzhou was wet.

...

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Chapter completed!