Mu Qingran didn't even give him a glance.
She's not in the mood.
There was nothing wrong with Jing Shengzhu helping her out, she just wondered why Jing Shengzhu knew this poem?
Mu Qingran looked at Jing Shengzhu with bright eyes and had a bold guess in his mind.
Could it be... that this stupid pig also came from another world?
It's just that he came here from a young age, so his words and deeds are relatively feudal, not as open as I am.
Although it sounds unbelievable, there is a ray of sunshine in Mu Qingran's lonely heart.
Who can understand the warmth of having a fellow countryman in a foreign world?
"Let's go upstairs." Jing Shengzhu turned around and was shocked by Mu Qingran's expression.
Why does it feel like... Mu Qingran is very touched and admires me?
Is it an illusion?
The fourth brother Jing Shengshi was suspicious and came over to inquire.
Jing Shengzhu didn't want to offend Mu Qingran, so he raised his voice and said, "Cousin, could I really lie to you? If I could write poetry, I would have come to your Wangyang Poetry Society a long time ago."
Jing Shengshi pondered.
It seems... Sister Zhuer has never written a poem.
That should really have been written by Mu Qingran.
As soon as Jing Shengshi dispelled his doubts, someone offered a high price to buy the poem.
With one person taking the lead, other literati and scholars also rushed to buy.
"Everyone, this poem was written by Miss Mu Qingran. If you want to buy it, you must ask her opinion."
Mu Qingran replied without hesitation: "I'll sell it!"
"How much is the girl asking?"
Mu Qingran grabbed Jing Shengzhu with one hand: "What do you think?"
"What does your poem have to do with me?" Jing Shengzhu knew that Mu Qingran loved money.
Even if it is sold at a high price, it may not be divided among you.
"Ten thousand taels!" Mu Qingran added, "gold."
Jing Shengzhu staggered with fright.
Mu Qingran beside her supported her slender waist in time, "Xiaozhu, be careful."
“…”Xiaozhu?
Many scholars and literati gave up because they had no money.
Unexpectedly, a voice was heard from the window on the second floor.
"Poetry, my master bought it!"
As soon as he finished speaking, someone else spoke.
"Let's compete fairly. My master also wants this poem."
At the entrance of the poetry society.
Sitting in the carriage was the second son, Jing Shengcheng.
Pei Zhixing, who was using the pseudonym Mei Qingyi, stared at the baby in his arms and asked, "Why did the Second Young Master go out with a child?"
"This is my aunt." Jing Shengcheng looked helpless.
I don’t know what’s wrong with my parents, they want to leave my little aunt to him.
Fortunately, the little aunt didn't cry or make a fuss, otherwise he would be annoyed to death.
Pei Zhixing slowly approached and flattered him, "This is the first time I've seen such a well-behaved and cute child."
[Pretend, keep pretending. Last time, you even said I was a demon fetus.]
Hearing this voice, the second brother Jing Shengcheng's eyebrows twitched wildly...
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