Qin Wuyan raised his hand and saw the stone table and chair opposite him. He went straight to sit down and raised his chin to Qinghuan: "continue, play two songs you're good at."

Qinghuan smiled brightly and began to rotate the shaft, pluck the strings, tune the piano and try the sound. The sad music poured out from the strings like running water.

Zhuang Qingyun also sat down on the stone bench and gestured to the pro Wei. The pro Wei immediately took several bottles of precious wine and a plate of stewed beef from the wine cellar and placed them on the stone table.

Zhuang Qingyun pulls out the wooden cork and a mellow smell spreads in the air. Zhuang Qingyun hands the jade bottle to Qin Wuyan.

The weeping piano sound was like a catalyst, provoking Qin Wuyan's heart at the moment. Qin Wuyan grabbed the jade bottle and poured a mouthful of wine.

Wine into the sad heart, the spicy feeling from the tip of the tongue along the throat all the way to the heart, burning the belly, the kind of sadness in the heart seems to be less.

Before Qinghuan played two piano sounds, a row of wine bottles placed in front of Qin Wuyan were empty.

Qinghuan glanced at the two people sitting at the stone table, stopped, walked up to them happily and asked Qin Wuyan, "acting priest, how did the slave play?"

Qin Wuyan was drunk and confused. He glanced at Qinghuan, raised his hand to support the corner of his forehead and smiled: "you like playing this kind of music in Qinghuan building?"

Crying is like a dead person. You can listen to it occasionally. Don't you feel unlucky when you listen to it more often?

Qing laughed: "there are also some cheerful ones, but these songs must be ordered by guests when they come. They are very easy to play after much practice."

He said, "besides, most of the guests we receive are women. If we weren't full of melancholy and full of thoughts, we wouldn't go to Qinghuan building to find people like us for recreation. I can see through this woman's mind."

Qin Wuyan heard the speech, slowly raised his head and raised his eyelids: "do you know women's thoughts very well?"

"Of course." Qinghuan smiled without humility: "people like us depend on this line to make a living. If we don't understand a woman's mind, how can we go on?"

It seemed that Qin Wuyan didn't believe it. Qinghuan said to herself, "let's talk about the holy girl served by the slave. This woman wants wind and rain. She has a good figure, good appearance, good birth and high status. She also has the ability, but her desire is too heavy. She likes Xiao to think of something that doesn't belong to her.

And she is extremely dissolute and endless in men's and women's affairs. If an ordinary man climbs up to her, she can be encouraged to serve. Unfortunately, a woman like her doesn't like a man who has achieved nothing. If she wants to like it, she must like a man with high power. But the saint has a bad temper and is too angry. She is so aggressive that she is powerful Man, sooner or later I can't stand it... "

Zhuang Qingyun swallowed the beef in his mouth, took a sip of wine, and looked at Qinghuan with the rest of his eyes: "you mean, you're not tired of the saint?"

"A woman as high as the saint is not worthy of being bored by people as low as us. The slave must try his best to serve her, even if she is broken to pieces."

Qinghuan covered her lips and unconsciously smiled: "what's more, I'm very grateful to hear that the saint has given birth to the slave's flesh and blood."

Zhuang Qingyun's fingertips knocked on the table: "the saint had dystocia. She didn't give birth for three days and three nights. She almost died. Fortunately, the doctor we arranged in Minfu saved the saint and the child's life..."