Chapter 45: The Gods Will Protect the Lady
Chen Shuwei did not refuse. He took the brush, dipped it in paper pulp, squatted on the ground and brushed it on the lantern frame. After brushing, one side was covered with paper pulp.
One of them was applying glue while the other was happily handing out the cut paper. The scene was very warm.
The lantern is square in shape, and Zhao Yun cleverly processed the four corners into smooth arcs, which makes it look a bit naive.
Zhao Yun handed over the pen and ink and said softly, "Miss, please write down your wish."
Shen Shuwei held the pen, and a spot of ink spread across the warm yellow paper. She hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at Zhao Yun. "Can I only write my wish?"
Zhao Yun raised an eyebrow, his expression gentle, "Ordinary lanterns naturally express one's own wishes."
Shen Shuwei nodded, feeling a little disappointed. Just as he was about to pick up the pen to write down his wish, he heard Zhao Yun speak again.
"But the girl is different. She is naturally beautiful and will be favored by the gods. It doesn't matter if I write a few."
The young man's voice was as gentle as cold spring water and jade, without any hint of intimacy, but Chen Shuwei's cheeks inexplicably turned red.
Is Jing Yin trying to coax her?
Fortunately, the light was dim, and Jing Yin should not be able to see how embarrassed he looked.
While comforting herself, Chen Shuwei picked up the pen and began to write down her wish, but she didn't know that Zhao Yun beside her was looking at her cheek with a slight smile on his lips.
Ah, the lady is blushing.
It was so easy to fool him. He just said a few words that he had heard on the streets of Liangzhou before, used by playboys to deceive young girls, and the young lady was so happy to hear them.
A strand of black hair was wrapped around his little finger, and Zhao Yun slowly hooked the hair and wrapped it around again.
The young lady used osmanthus hair oil, which was different from what her mother used. She used orchid ointment.
But no matter how gentle and clean the fragrance was, it could not cover up the decadent and dead air on her.
Thanks to his biological mother, Zhao Yun could not bear the smell of women's fragrance, especially the gentle and refreshing scent of flowers and plants. He would lose control of his restlessness.
But the faint scent of osmanthus coming from Chen Shuwei's hair seemed to be an exception, just like the poisonous flowers blooming all over Liangzhou that are alluring and addictive. Once you smell them, you will become addicted and will be lured into sinking into them.
The young lady was so bad that she seduced him. He wanted to lock her up in his bedroom and keep her company day and night.
Shen Shuwei had already written the wishes. She originally wanted to include the Shen family and Jing Yin, but the lamp was too small to accommodate so many wishes, and writing too many would make her seem greedy.
So she only wrote one sentence, "Spring is prosperous, summer is peaceful, autumn is peaceful, winter is prosperous", and wrote the names of the Shen family members below. Now she held the lamp and turned the side with the words to Zhao Yun.
"Jing Yin, it's your turn to leave your name." Chen Shuwei's eyes curved, making Zhao Yun dazzled for a moment.
Chen Shuwei pushed the lamp in his hand towards his arms and urged him, "Write quickly. Only if you leave your name with your own hands will the gods bless you with peace, joy and good fortune all year round."
Shen Shuwei imitated what Zhao Yun had said earlier.
Zhao Yun took the pen and wrote only half a stroke when he suddenly realized that he was now Jing Yin, whose identity was questionable and was picked up by the Shen family, and not Zhao Yun, the prince of Jing in Liangzhou who had a bodhisattva appearance but a vicious heart.
Watching Zhao Yun pick up the pen and write the two words Jing Yin, Shen Shuwei couldn't help but take another look.
Jing Yin's handwriting is different from his own gentle and harmless style. The strokes are sharp and reveal a biting chill.
Chen Shuwei gently stroked the lamp surface, lowered his eyes and pondered.
It is said that one can tell a person's character by his handwriting. The eldest brother's handwriting is as clear and elegant as he is, and exudes a sense of righteousness. Although the second brother's handwriting is a bit ugly, one can still see the heroic spirit of the warriors.
Jing Yin, is this really his name?
Zhao Yun returned with a candle, not noticing Shen Shuwei's absent-mindedness. He took the lamp, lit it, and set it loose in the courtyard.
Looking at the lamp swaying in the wind, Chen Shuwei couldn't help but smile. The panic and uneasiness that had been accumulating in his heart since his rebirth seemed to float away with the lamp.
"You and I have both written our names. If the gods you mentioned really exist, we can also find out who they are supposed to protect."
Hearing these words, Zhao Yun raised his eyebrows slightly.
-
Half an hour later, Chengfeng, who had just completed the task assigned by the prince and came back humming a little tune and planning to have a good sleep, was startled by a figure standing in the middle of the yard.
The dark clouds dispersed, revealing a corner of the moon. The cold moonlight shone into the courtyard. Chengfeng then recognized that the person in the courtyard was Zhao Yun.
Before Cheng Feng could breathe a sigh of relief, the precious master in front of him spoke, "Follow me to go somewhere."
Chengfeng was so miserable that he didn't even have a chance to drink a sip of water before Zhao Yun took him up the West Mountain.
There were bursts of wolves howling in the night, and some strange cries coming from unknown wild animals, so sharp and thin that Chengfeng touched his arms, where the hairs on his arms stood on end, and tried to open his eyes wide to identify the lamp that the prince mentioned in the darkness.
I don’t know what important information is written on the lamp that is worth the prince’s personal search.
As Chengfeng pondered this, a thorny branch scratched his cheek, causing him to grimace in pain. Could Xunxiao do this kind of work? He was practically useless, and a mission-obsessed person, so he was the perfect fit.
"Prince, is it the one hanging on the tree in front?" Just when Chengfeng was about to go blind, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a flickering prayer lantern hanging on a jujube tree not far away.
Zhao Yun said "hmm" coldly and kicked him on the calf. "Climb up and take it down."
Chengfeng rubbed his calves with gritted teeth, pushed the tree trunk with his toes for leverage, and in a few seconds he jumped to the top of the tree and took down the lantern.
Just as he handed the lantern to Zhao Yun and curiously peeked in to see what important information was written on the lantern, Zhao Yun raised his eyelids and glanced at him.
Chengfeng touched his nose and huddled aside in grievance, breaking off a branch and drawing circles on the ground.
The prince has gone too far! When will Xun Xiao come to the capital? He can't live another day like this.
Zhao Yun took out a thin goat-hair brush from his bosom, erased the two words Jing Yin on the lamp, and wrote Zhao Yun again.
Looking at his name and the three small characters of Shen Shuwei written in a hairpin style side by side, he narrowed his eyes and felt more pleased.
It's just that—his eyes slid upwards and landed on the string of names of the Shen family, and he clicked his tongue softly.
This lamp belongs to him and the young lady. What right do they have to touch the lamp?
The tip of the pen landed on the two characters "Shen Zhang". Looking at the carefully written words, Zhao Yun suddenly recalled the tiny starlight in Shen Shuwei's eyes when she held the lamp and looked at him.
Forget it, he retracted his hand and raised his lips slightly. It was just a lamp, what was there for him to care about?
-
After the flower show that day, Shen Shuwei was busy again. The number of disaster victims pouring into the capital increased day by day, yet the officials there remained completely unaware.
After all, disasters happen every three to five years. There is no place that is not plagued by floods and famines. They will be fine after a while.
Only Chen Shuwei looked at the pale and skinny disaster victims with a solemn expression.
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