After the woman in a light red skirt left, the old flower farmer gradually returned to his original posture. He smiled and sat upright on the chair, squinted his eyes, and pointed directly at a small room in the backyard.

As if inspired by the soul, a middle-aged Confucian scholar slowly walked out of the small room. He was wearing a light white straight-collared robe and a head of silver hair, which seemed to be extremely scattered. There was a blue jade pendant on his waist, which was still emitting a faint light when he looked closely.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar walked slowly towards the old flower farmer with small steps. The latter did not make any noise after seeing him, and still squinted his eyes slightly.

After the silver-haired man arrived, the old flower farmer got up. He pulled the chair back and made some room.

At the same time, the two sat on the ground tacitly.

The old flower farmer looked at the middle-aged Confucian scholar in front of him and said with a little dissatisfaction: "When will you change your hobby? Every time you chat with you, you have to sit on the ground. After all, I am also a prime minister. What kind of elegance does this make people look at?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar coldly glanced at the old flower farmer, not wanting to pay attention to the latter at all.

The old flower farmer felt bored and said to himself: "Why is this kind of virtue still there for more than a month? Yes, it doesn't matter if I ignore it. Anyway, I think you, the number one strategist in Nanchen, are so arrogant." He looked at the facial expression of the man opposite, but unfortunately the latter's expression was not moved at all.

The man with silver hair seemed to feel that the weather was getting hot. The sweat beads on his forehead kept falling one by one. The beads of sweat slid down his clothes, but there was no trace. Seeing him like that, the old flower farmer joked: "The weather is so hot, can't you tie up your long hair? I look very hot."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar finally couldn't help it and said coldly: "Ouyang, if you don't speak, no one will regard you as a mute."

The old flower farmer tsk a few times, but he really stopped talking.

The two sat face to face until the sun set.

The prime minister, whose real name Ouyang Geng, finally couldn't hold back when he saw the night falling, and said with weakness: "How about we settle the situation?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar was still closing his eyes at this time, but the corners of his mouth moved slightly: "You opened your eyes twenty-two times within three hours."

Ouyang Geng's face was still calm, and he seemed to be unrelated to himself. He couldn't help but stand up, patted the dust on his body, muttered a few words, but no one heard what he was saying.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar was still meditating on the ground. The jade pendant on his waist was getting brighter and brighter as the night came. He heard the sound of the old flower farmer patting the dust on his clothes with his hands, and said casually: "Why should I pat the dust in the world with my heart?"

Ouyang Geng rolled his eyes to the middle-aged Confucian scholar, but unfortunately the latter did not see it. He joked: "Oh, can you turn around and devote yourself to Buddhism? This Buddhism is boundless, and you may not understand anything until you die."

After hearing this, the middle-aged Confucian scholar smiled rarely. He opened his eyes and said, "It's hard to believe that you were the literary leader ten years ago."

"It's hard for me to believe that you were the number one strategist of Nanchen ten years ago." Ouyang Geng was not willing to be outdone.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar did not take on this sentence, so he slowly stood up.

The light white robe swayed lightly in the wind and sat on the ground, but it was not stained with a trace of dust.

He took off the jade pendant from his waist, kept playing with it in his hands, then stared at Ouyang Geng and said, "Lu Yuan is coming to settle the score with you."

Ouyang Geng looked indifferent. He held his head with his hands, looked at the moon, and said lightly: "What can he make a decision with me? An old bone can only stick to the rules, just like this moon, lifeless and without any vitality."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar did not clearly support or oppose this statement. He just said in a relatively calm tone: "I'm not saying that you did this wrong, but would it be too risky?"

"Adventure? I guess I'm a lunatic in that old man's mouth." Ouyang Geng sneered.

"I don't know if Xiao Zhiqiu thought about the old-fashioned sesame cake in Beijing, it's been three years." The old flower farmer said inexplicably.

Coincidentally, the middle-aged Confucian scholar next to him also said something strange: "      I want to say the return date before I can speak, and I will swallow my miserable words before I can speak."

Ouyang Geng laughed twice and said cheerfully: "You remember any deviled poem."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar shook his head, stretched out a finger, pointed his finger at Ouyang Geng, and smiled faintly: "Don't you remember too?"

The old flower farmer didn't say anything this time and stared blankly at the sky.

Just like Zhiqiu looked at the sky countless times in three years.

-------------------------

The backyard of Taihe Mountain has become much lively this month because since the scholar came back, the people in the backyard have never been quiet.

The old shopkeeper went to bed very early every night and got up very early the next day. After he got up, he recited poems in the bamboo forest in the backyard. It didn't matter. The key was that he recited all the murderous battlefield words. Every time he recited a sentence, the bamboo forest was cut off. When it fell down, the bamboo fell to the ground, and a "boom" sound caused a huge sound in the backyard. The Taoist priests in the backyard were often stood up one by one, as if they were facing a great enemy.

But every time they stood up, they found that it was just this scholar who was responsible for it. After the stone in his heart fell to the ground, they felt a little dissatisfied.

How could this person cut bamboo in the bamboo forest before dawn?

Over the long run, each of these Taoist priests in the backyard was in a daze and had no spirit. They could not stand it and cried to the true man Yangping about the behavior of scholars.

The head of Taihe Mountain now had no choice but to persuade him, saying that the scholar's identity was a bit special, and now he was putting him under house arrest. He had made mistakes first, so it was hard to say anything. He could only let these people in the sect patiently for a while.

After hearing the words of the leader, the Taoists could only shake their heads and said that they would have to rest early in the evening. When the old man woke up, they would get up and meditate and practice.

The old shopkeeper still cut a large bamboo forest that day, and then felt a little bored, so he closed the book and wandered around the backyard with his hands behind his back.

I happened to meet the uncle who was carrying a basket of steamed buns in his hand and walked over slowly. After seeing the old shopkeeper, he quickly bowed to the old shopkeeper, then stuffed the steamed buns into the old shopkeeper's hand, and said with a smile: "Dean, this is what I respected you. You must be a little hungry when you wake up in the morning. I have someone to make it for you. The taste is definitely no worse than the ones outside!"

Qiu Haoqiong said while slapping his chest, as if he was proud.

Although the old shopkeeper did not refuse the steamed bun, his eyes were still staring at Qiu Haoqiong. He looked up and down and said suspiciously: "You kid, did you poison me in the steamed bun?"

Qiu Haoqiong became anxious when he heard this. The smile on his face flew in an instant, and he almost jumped up to scold the old man in front of him. But after thinking about it, he thought that he could not beat the old man, so he had to suppress the anger in his heart, and a smile appeared on his face again, and said softly: "Dean, how can you say that to me? My loyalty to you can be seen by the bright moon and the river can be seen!"

Seeing that the old shopkeeper didn't say anything, he slowly came to the latter's ear and continued, "Director, you know. I wish you could clean up my senior brother for me! I have been suffering a lot of hardships under him. How could I poison the steamed buns? I wish you could recover as soon as possible and use your magical skills to seriously injure him, and then... I can go down the mountain to travel!" When he said this, he was full of energy, as if he was very eager for the scene at the foot of the mountain.

After hearing the last sentence, the old shopkeeper sighed silently in his heart.

"Director, hurry up, eat while it's hot. It's not delicious when it's cold." Qiu Haoqiong said when he saw the steamed buns steaming outside.

The old shopkeeper nodded slowly, took two steamed buns at once and stuffed them into his mouth, regardless of his own image.

When the junior uncle saw this, he thought to himself that he did not look like a scholar.

After eating four or five, the old shopkeeper stopped eating. After stretching, he asked Qiu Haoqiong to take him to Yangping Zhenren.

Qiu Haoqiong seemed a little embarrassed. He scratched his head and whispered: "Dean, believe it or not, the senior brother of the sect just went down the mountain yesterday. Senior brother Yuan, Senior Brother Luo and others were also going down the mountain together."

The old shopkeeper nodded while burping.

Qiu Haoqiong looked puzzled and continued, "Dean, do you believe me so much? Why don't you doubt whether I was telling a lie this time?"

The old shopkeeper said lightly: "Do you think I can't feel your senior brother's aura?" After that, he walked towards his room with a step.

Qiu Haoqiong suddenly realized and even said he admired him. He followed the old shopkeeper, but he just stood on tiptoe and made no sound.

After walking a few steps, the old shopkeeper suddenly turned around. He looked at Qiu Haoqiong and said, "During the time in the backyard, I see that you are becoming more and more like a person. I didn't find him on the mountain before."

When Qiu Haoqiong heard this, he became interested. He asked curiously: "Who?"

"My little apprentice." When talking about this apprentice, the old shopkeeper inexplicably missed him. He was wondering whether the boy was still reading and writing every day. He was a little annoyed why he didn't send the boy into the small house of the junior scholar.

Alas, I still believe in that stinky Taoist priest too much. The old shopkeeper thought to himself.

Qiu Haoqiong opened his eyes wide after hearing this and said in surprise: "Dean... Haven't your little apprentice been dead for several years...?"

The old shopkeeper glanced and added: "It was an apprentice I just accepted some time ago."

"Close disciple."

Qiu Haoqiong asked quickly: "The dean, the closed disciple, is naturally gifted and has shouldered the heavy responsibility of heaven like me. My name is so loud, how dare you ask the name of this little brother?" He looked at the old shopkeeper with anticipation.

The old shopkeeper saw his expectant look and became interested, so he deliberately stretched out a finger and pointed it into the sky.

When Qiu Haoqiong saw this, he opened his mouth wide and couldn't speak.

This... the disciple accepted by the dean is actually a god from heaven?

Alas, I can't compare it, I can't compare it.

When the old shopkeeper saw Qiu Haoqiong's expression suddenly felt a little better, he joked: "Why don't you believe that I have accepted such a closed disciple?"

The uncle from Taihe Mountain seemed to have a breath and hesitated: "I can't compare to your disciple who comes from heaven. Don't say that I am like him anymore."

When the old shopkeeper saw this, he burst into laughter.
Chapter completed!