Chapter 11 Words are like the person they are
The fan slowly opened, and Hualan's smile suddenly faded a lot.

I saw that the handwriting above was not as good as mine.

Old Madam Sheng's expression remained unchanged as she encouraged:
"Hua'er, continue. It's no big deal if your handwriting is ugly. It's good enough if you dare to give it to me."

Minglan didn't feel anything about the words, she just felt that they were similar to her own. She just wanted to know what the words that had puzzled her for so many days were, so she urged:
"Big sister, hurry up. If you're any slower, the dinner will be about to start."

Hualan tapped Xiao Minglan's nose and said, "You are the only one who knows the most."

Her movements were much faster. She opened the fan, turned her face to the side and twisted her nose, looking like an ugly daughter-in-law meeting her parents-in-law.

I only heard Xiao Minglan beside me slowly reading word by word:
"Moth snow willow golden strands."

"The laughter is filled with fragrance."

"The crowd looked for him thousands of times, but suddenly I looked back, and there he was, in a dimly lit place."

Ok?
Halfway through listening, Hua Lan opened her beautiful eyes, picked up the fan, moved closer, and began to read carefully.

Is this the lyrics he wrote?

Hua Lan's eyes were full of disbelief and surprise, as if she wanted to see flowers in the fan in front of her.

"The lyrics are good, but why is it only half a stanza?"

Old Madam Sheng was a lady from a prominent family who understood poetry and literature, and she also thought that this poem was the best, but what about the rest?

Hualan was so happy that she turned her fan over and over several times, but she couldn't find the remaining half of the poem.

"This poem should be complete, but I'm afraid he kept only half of it. He plans to give you the other half when you arrive in Bianjing or enter the sect."

Hualan thought so too, but the girl's thoughts were pointed out in public and she was teased by her grandmother. She felt her face burning and her face suddenly turned red. She could not stay there any longer.

A pair of slender and soft hands took the fan, and the graceful arms embraced it and held it in the bosom, then she moved her lotus feet lightly and ran out quickly.

"Grandmother, the young marquis's lyrics were written very well, why did the elder sister suddenly run away?"

Old Madam Sheng gently scratched little Minglan's nose and said with a loving smile:
"That's because your elder sister is shy."

"Shy? Granddaughter doesn't understand." Little Minglan was confused.

"You're just reading a poem, or half a poem at that, why are you shy?"

Old Madam Sheng shook her head and laughed, then she held little Minglan on her lap and whispered in her ear:
"You'll know when you grow up tomorrow."

Hualan ran out of Shou'an Hall and ran all the way back to her room. She picked up the fan in her hand and couldn't let it go, muttering the words written on it.

"The moth is like a golden thread of snow willow, and leaves with a smile and a faint fragrance."

"Is this describing the first time he saw me? When he entered Shou'an Hall?"

"The first half of the sentence is correct. I did dress up that day and wore a lot of gold and jade jewelry, but what about the second half? I clearly glared at him at the time, so how could I smile?"

"Could it be that I really smiled at him at that time?"

Hua Lan was a little uncertain.

Could it be that I smiled at Yang Wenyuan when I entered the door?

"Next... No wonder he came to my house every day. It turns out he was after me. Fortunately, I didn't agree to go out and have fun with him. He was so rude."

"The handwriting is like the person, he is indeed a frivolous person."

Although she said these angry words, the girl's pretty cheeks were flushed with red, and her smile was as sweet as honey, obviously reaching the bottom of her heart.

Hua Lan had no doubt that Yang Wenyuan got the words from somewhere else. She just felt a hot and intoxicating aftertaste flowing in her heart.

Old Lady Sheng felt that even if this poem was not written by Yang Wenyuan, the fact that he took the time to find this excellent poem showed his thoughtfulness, so there was no need to delve into it further.

……

In order to celebrate the addition of a new boy to the Sheng family, the Sheng family held a dinner today and the whole family ate together.

Old Madam Sheng was also invited out and sat at the top.

The dinner started. Considering Mrs. Sheng's habits, most of the dishes served were light, with a few spicy dishes placed far away at the other end of the table.

"Hua'er, I heard that there is a poem on the fan that Wenyuan gave you?" Sheng Hong was obviously curious about what kind of poem Yang Wenyuan could write, and asked before all the dishes were served.

If it was any other poem, Hualan would have said it directly.

But she could not say this half-stanza of poetry filled with the young man's deep affection no matter what, and was too embarrassed to say it.

He just turned his head to avoid everyone's curious gazes and said vaguely:
"It's not a good thing. My daughter will forget it after reading it."

"What about calligraphy? How is Wenyuan's calligraphy?"

Sheng Hong asked repeatedly.

This was the main point he wanted to inquire about.

Sheng Hong's calligraphy is so good that even the officials far away in Bian Jing have heard of it. Now that he thinks that Yang Wenyuan and his eldest daughter are planning to get married, his mentality has changed. He treats it as a son or nephew and wants to see what Yang Wenyuan's calligraphy is like.

"That's it."

Hua Lan said ambiguously, "It is naturally far inferior to my father's handwriting."

This time, Sheng Hong's G-spot was touched, and a smug look appeared on his face.

"That's natural. After all, Wenyuan is only a few years old and has only learned calligraphy for a few years. How many years did your father learn calligraphy for? If there is a chance in the future, I can also teach him the principles of calligraphy."

At this moment, Xiao Minglan suddenly whispered to Wei Shuyi beside her:

"My dear, I know how the young marquis writes."

"It's pretty good. Better than my handwriting."

Little Minglan's face was full of pride. She had only been learning calligraphy for a short time, but her calligraphy was almost as good as that of the young marquis. When she grew up, wouldn't she be able to have calligraphy like her father's?

"Shh!"

Wei Shuyi quickly signaled to Xiao Minglan to speak more quietly.

This is something that no one wants to hear. Then Xiao Minglan said:

"But the young marquis wrote very well, which pleased my grandmother. She even taught me how to write those characters this afternoon. But my elder sister was not happy. She took the poem away as if it were a treasure and hid it in her room."

Wei Shuyi glanced at Old Lady Sheng, who seemed to be in a good mood, and suddenly had an idea. The grandfather and granddaughter got along very well in the afternoon and their relationship was strong. Isn't this a good time to let little Minglan enter Shou'an Hall?

His eyes moved and he whispered to Xiao Minglan:

"Do you remember that word?"

"remember!"

Little Minglan nodded affirmatively, thinking that Wei Shuyi was also curious and wanted to test her, so she immediately recited it in a low voice.

Wei Shuyi suddenly asked.

"Ming'er, how do you think your grandmother treats you?"

"He was very kind to me. He taught me calligraphy in the afternoon and gave me many delicious snacks to try. He was very kind and amiable."

"How about I send you to be raised by my grandmother?"

When little Minglan heard this, she thought her mother didn't want her anymore, and her mouth pouted as she was about to cry. Wei Shuyi hurried to explain.

"It's not that I don't want you anymore. I can't bear to leave you, but you also know that I'm not in good health now. I have to take care of your brother on weekdays. How can I take care of you?"

"Grandma treats you so well, but she lives alone and feels lonely, and she is not in good health. If you go over and keep her company, it will just make her happy, isn't that the best of both worlds?"

"And we all live in the same house. If you miss me, you can come over anytime."

Little Minglan has been sensible since she was young. Although she was reluctant, she still nodded slightly.

"OK then."

(End of this chapter)