Zhao Rong smiled helplessly.

He raised his hand to touch her head, but thought it was inappropriate, so he changed his touch and gently scratched the tip of her delicate nose.

Although he had been annoyed by this quirky little girl these days, she was the only person who was willing to be close to him since he came into this world.

He always felt that there were two kinds of people in this world that he should not let down: those who loved him and those who hated him.

The little girl was stunned, her face flushed red, and she turned around hurriedly, snatched the clothes and copper basin held by the two maids, lowered her head to avoid the man in front of her, and hurried into the house.

Brother Rong Er has really changed. He has changed, changed, and become strange, and even a little annoying...

Seeing this, Zhao Rong clenched his fist and coughed lightly, smiled apologetically at the two stunned maids, and then gently closed the door.

Turning around, he saw Qian'er busying herself in front of the wash basin in the house with her head down, with her back to him and a slender figure.

As Zhao Rong walked towards her, he casually asked, "Why are you here so late today? Aren't you going to take me to do morning exercises?"

Qian'er turned around, the blush on her face had faded, and she smiled faintly:

"Today is the old lady's 90th birthday. I am in the kitchen with the young lady making longevity noodles. The old lady loves the noodles made by the young lady the most."

After saying that, she handed the wooden brush with ointment in her hand to Zhao Rong.

"No wonder I was wondering why there were so many people coming and going in the outer palace these past two days. I thought they were celebrating some kind of festival."

He took the toothbrush-like thing and started washing his face in the copper basin.

"Brother Rong'er, do you want to make a bowl of longevity noodles too?" Qian'er asked tentatively.

He glanced back at her, and seeing that she looked serious, he quickly shook his head.

Make noodles? Are you kidding me? Instant noodles? I'm good at this, the old-style pickled cabbage flavor.

"No! A gentleman should stay away from the kitchen."

Qian'er saw him refuse, and her mouth pursed. You did it to me and the young lady when you were young, and have you really forgotten that the old lady and someone else were born on the same day? !

Suddenly, she rolled her eyes and smiled slyly.

"Brother Ronger~"

"uh-huh."

She hurriedly handed over the hot tea in her hand, and Zhao Rong took it and rinsed his mouth.

"Do you know what day it is today?"

"I don't know...it can't be your birthday, right?"

He then took the wrung-out hot handkerchief handed to him by the little girl and wiped his face.

Ah, it's so comfortable. Is this the life of a rich kid in the evil feudal society? Why don't I feel guilty at all now? Alas, I have fallen.

In fact, he refused at first. As a modern man, how could he be used to such a luxurious life where he had everything provided for him, such as clothes, food, and washing. But under Qian'er's strong insistence, he was forced to join.

If you don't have a habit, then develop one...

Thinking of this, he suddenly realized that Qian'er seemed to be silent, so he took off the towel on her face and took a look.

I saw Qian'er looking at me with a strange expression. Is there something on my face?

"Well~ today is also Qian'er's birthday." She looked away, lowered her head, pinched the corner of her clothes, and said guiltily.

"Oh, what a coincidence." Zhao Rong said in surprise. "Then we have to celebrate!"

He paced back and forth, thinking for a while, "How about taking you out to play today? Confucius Temple and Xishui Street are lively and have a lot of things to do there. Let's go and have some fun and eat some delicious food?"

In fact, he was planning to visit the Imperial College today and pay his respects to the teachers at the Imperial College, but all these could be postponed. After all, the little girl's birthday was more important, and he had asked the teachers for a ten-day leave, and only half of it had passed.

Qian'er's face lit up with joy, but then dimmed again. She waved her hands quickly, "No, no, today is the old lady's birthday. I have to go help the young lady later. There are a lot of things to do, and..."

"Didn't Brother Rong'er say before, 'Alas, my parents, you worked so hard to give birth to me'? Qian'er's parents are not around, so we can't have a happy birthday. How about, Brother Rong'er make Qian'er a bowl of longevity noodles!"

After saying that, she glanced at Zhao Rong again.

Auntie, I really don’t know how to make noodles.

Zhao Rong looked at her helplessly, and her pitiful look was really unbearable.

"Qian'er, let me give you a birthday poem." He suddenly raised his eyebrows.

Qian'er's eyes sparkled as she asked, "Brother Rong'er wants to write lyrics for me?"

"Help me grind the ink!" Zhao Rong was delighted.

Seeing how confident he was, Qian'er suddenly became suspicious. She muttered, "Brother Rong'er, are you going to write a limerick?"

However, the little girl still ran excitedly to get the inkstone and ink stick to grind ink.

Zhao Rong returned to the bed and changed into the clean Confucian robe she had just brought. After putting it on, she found that the Confucian robe seemed a little strange.

The material is still luxurious and fine, but the stitching workmanship is obviously much worse than what I wore before. Hey, why are the sleeves on both sides asymmetrical? Which third-rate tailor made this?

He was puzzled for a moment but didn't take it seriously. After all, the clothes just made him feel a little uncomfortable, but it was hard for outsiders to tell.

He shook his head, straightened his clothes, tied his turban, took out the black bird jade poem plaque and hung it around his waist, thought for a while, pulled out a white handkerchief from under the pillow and stuffed it into his arms, then walked towards the desk.

On the other side, Qian'er had already ground the ink and arranged the rice paper and brushes.

Zhao Rong came to the table, picked up the pen and dipped it in ink, turned his head to look at the curious little girl next to him, smiled, and calmed down to write.

His calligraphy skills come not only from the memories inherited from his original body, but also from what he learned when he was in the calligraphy club at university.

Although he was a slouch during his four years in college and his grades were mediocre, calligraphy and classical Chinese literature have always been his hobbies. He even participated in the provincial calligraphy competition for two consecutive years.

He used regular script this time. He wanted to use running script but was afraid that the little girl wouldn't understand it. Because the history of this world was different from what he was familiar with in his previous life, calligraphy had only developed to official script, cursive script, and regular script, and there was no sign of running script appearing...

Qian'er stared at him writing on the rice paper in one go. This was a font she had never seen before, but she was not familiar with calligraphy, so she didn't pay much attention to it.

"Brushing the colorful clothes and enjoying the autumn" Qian'er opened her jade lips slightly.

Is there such a tune? She tilted her head.

Whether it was the Ziqi Pavilion where she had stayed before or the holy place for cultivation where geniuses from the whole state gathered, she had followed the young lady to participate in many poetry clubs and literary gatherings organized by fellow brothers and sisters, and had also read many poetry collections.

After all, the Dao thoughts of various schools of thought were widely spread in the mountain and had a huge influence. Most of the cultivation world was involved in this Dao dispute, and Confucianism was one of the three most prominent schools among the hundreds of schools, not to mention the cultivation realm named by the Confucian saint...

Therefore, Confucianism is something that almost all monks must learn.

Maybe I just haven't seen it. She stuck out her tongue. Soon her attention was attracted by the poem on the paper.

"Enjoy the autumn. The late lotus flowers are adorned with round dewdrops. The weather is fine, and a few lines of new geese fly into the cold mist. Silver reeds tune crisp pipes, and jade pillars pluck clear strings."

The girl frowned slightly and opened her lips.

"Holding the wine cups and boats, singing together to celebrate the birthday. Life is a hundred years long, parting is easy, meeting is hard...parting is easy, meeting is hard..."

For some reason, when she read this part, she suddenly stopped and muttered to herself over and over again. After a while, she took a deep breath and continued reading.

"On a day without anything to do, I just call my friends to start a feast. The stars and frost hasten my green hair, the wind and dew caress my beauty... I cherish my quiet joy. Why not get drunk in front of the Jade Emperor?"

Finish reading the word.

She looked up at Zhao Rong, who was a head taller than her, bit her red lips lightly, her eyes twinkling as if containing stars.

Suddenly, the surroundings seemed to be brighter. Although there were no windows in the room, a breeze suddenly blew, causing the curtains to flutter and the pages of the book to turn.

…

At the door of the Earl's Mansion, a tall old man who was examining the guests coming and going suddenly turned around and glanced inside.

…

On a corridor somewhere in the palace, a man holding a sword, holding a dogtail grass in his mouth, leaning against a pillar and closing his eyes to rest, slowly opened his eyes.

He muttered something quietly, tightened the sword in his arms, and closed his eyes again.

…

"How is it? Do you like it?" Zhao Rong asked with a chuckle.

The girl didn't pay attention to the slender flying sword that "revealed the truth" in her heart. She sniffed and said seriously: "Qian'er likes it very much."

A pearl fell from the corner of her eye, passed over her chubby white cheek, and finally stopped on the girl's pointed chin.

Zhao Rong was caught off guard. Wasn't she smiling just a second ago? Why did she suddenly cry? Is this what a woman is like? How scary.

"Brother Rong'er, the young lady and I are leaving today."

Zhao Rong was silent.

She stared at him.

"Are you going to leave too?"