She raised her eyebrows and looked at the man in the crimson-purple robe with a smug look on her face.
The man then sang another poem: "There's no Polygala tenuifolia in the world, only a stream of Ginseng. Morning glory avoids washing its ears, lying in the shade of cassia twigs. Rain falls like a casserole, submerging the flat ground. Looking back at Yiling, the Arisaema is soaked. A thousand miles away, the wild geese return, half the sky casts a shadow eastward. My family gathers outdoors, smiling and embracing a white-headed old man. The common people pray for the rain to stop. The fields are well-protected, and dragon bones hang high on the walls." The poem contains eleven herbs: Polygala tenuifolia, Ginseng, Morning glory, cassia twig, Rubus foetida, Achyranthes bidentata, Arisaema confusa, Pulsatilla chinensis, Quisqualis chinensis, Inula fuciformis, and Dragon bones. Is this poem acceptable to me, young lady?"
Hua Fushu said, "I refuse to accept this!"
The masked man's lips curled up into a faint smile, "Then please go, young lady."
Hua Fushu thought seriously, and soon he felt a little pain in his head. He paced back and forth, feeling a little irritable.
The man said, "Girl, you'd better admit defeat."
"Don't even think about it, it's impossible!" Hua Fushu said firmly.
The curve under the man's mask became bigger, and the more Hua Fushu looked at him, the more satisfied he felt.
Time passed little by little, and it was almost a quarter. Hua Fushu was obviously a little impatient, but he was still racking his brains.
The man wanted to persuade Hua Fushu to admit defeat again, but he spat out the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
The old man became impatient and urged the flowers to grow.
At this time, a girl approached. She was wearing a light green gauze dress. In the evening candlelight, the thin gauze obscured her face, making it difficult to see her features. She bowed gracefully to the man in the dark clothes and said, "I am not talented, but I would like to compete with you. I wonder if you would be willing to do me the honor."
Hua Fushu seemed to see hope and quickly agreed: "I appreciate your kindness, of course I appreciate your kindness, fairy, please come in."
The man in dark clothes had the urge to touch his forehead, but he resisted it and said, "Please, young lady."
The aquamarine woman said, "The mica screen is open, the pearl curtain is closed, the wind prevents the agarwood from blowing away. The feeling of separation is melancholy, gold threads weave sulphur. The shadows of cypress and cassia twigs intertwine, I rise calmly, playing the mercury hall. The forsythia suspensa, startled by the midsummer, the chill penetrates the mint skirt. A vine hooks the moon, an ordinary mountain night, dreaming of sleeping on the battlefield. I have long since lightened my makeup, living alone in an empty room. I want to mend the broken string but cannot, the aconite is white, the bitterest is the ginseng. It's also angelica! The dogwood is ripe, the earth is old and the chrysanthemums are yellow."
The water-green woman said to the man, "Although I don't know how many kinds of medicine there are in the lyrics, I think there should be more than in the poem you recited."
Hua Fushu gave a thumbs-up and praised repeatedly, "A lot! It's not just a little more, it's more than twice as much! The fairy is so talented, it's really admirable!"
The man was quite surprised. "Really? Why don't you tell me how many medicinal herbs are contained in the words that the fairy recited?"
Hua Fushu said, "Twenty-five flavors in total."
The man said, "I'd like to hear more details."
Hua Fushu narrated: "The medicinal herbs mentioned in this poem include phellodendron, mica, pearl, siler, agarwood, turmeric, sulfur, cinnamon twig, cistanche, mercury, pinellia, mint, Uncaria rhynchophylla, changshan, dream tree, light powder, angelica root, dipsacus root, sophora flavescens, angelica root, cornus officinalis, rehmannia root, chrysanthemum, and rehmannia root."
The man asked, "Isn't mercury a poison? Can it also be considered a medicine?"
Hua Fushu said, "Some medicines are medicines but are also poisons, and some poisons are poisons but are also medicines. Medicine and poison are inseparable."
At this time, the old man was in a dilemma. He said, "You three are all talented writers, but to whom should I give this orchid?"
The man said first, "It was Miss Fox who bought the riddle. I just came here to join in the fun. The orchid should belong to Miss Fox. I think Miss Fairy won't mind."
The water-green girl was about to speak, but Hua Fushu said first, "I admit defeat. Mr. Pighead doesn't want the orchid, so the orchid should belong to Miss Fairy."
The old man was even more at a loss. The orchid in his hand was called Emperor's Concubine, a kind of orchid.
At this time, the water-green woman took out a tael of silver and gave it to the old man, "Don't worry, old man, I will give each of the three of us a pot of orchid."
The old man took the silver, and Hua Fushu did not refuse, and asked for the pot of orchid in the old man's hand.
This pot of orchid is different from the other orchids on the Eight Immortals Wooden Table. Its leaves are green and vigorous, and its flowers are bright. This pot of orchid is a young sprout, about an inch long.
The man in dark clothes looked at the tender buds in Hua Fushu's hand and asked, "Young lady, why did you choose a pot of buds?"
Hua Fushu said, "I am happy with it. What does it have to do with you?"
Soon, the dark-clothed man felt relieved. He said, "It's also fun to slowly grow a pot of tender seedlings into delicate flowers."
This sounds so familiar?
Hua Fushu looked at the man in dark clothes. What he said seemed like something her senior brother Qin Youran had said.
When she was fifteen and coming of age, Qin Youran gave her a gentian and said, "Take good care of it, cherish it until it blooms beautiful flowers. This is also a kind of pleasure."
It was a pity that the gentian was killed by a rainstorm before it even bloomed, and she was heartbroken for a long time.
The man in dark clothes pretended not to notice Hua Fushu's gaze. He walked to the wooden table, picked up a pot of orchids, thanked the woman Shuelü, and left through the crowd.
The girl named Shuilu was originally the daughter of a noble family. She glanced at the lush flowers through the gauze of the fence, picked up a pot of orchids and left the crowd.
Her maid Bisi hurriedly took the orchid from the water-green woman and said, "Miss, it's better for me to carry these heavy things. Be careful not to hurt your hands that you use for writing, painting, and playing the guzheng."
This woman in Shuilu is none other than the youngest daughter of the current emperor's father-in-law and the younger sister of the Empress Dowager, Lu Tianyun.
She smiled and said, "How could I be so delicate?"
Bisi said, "How can a young lady not be delicate? She is the apple of my eye, the apple of my eye, like the precious peach blossom nectar. I hold it in my arms for fear of it falling, and hold it in my mouth for fear of it melting."
Lu Tianyun turned around and glanced at him. Bisi asked curiously, "What are you looking at, young lady?"
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