After entering the wrong bridal chamber, I went to farm with the powerful minister

Chapter 74 Holding it in the palm of your hand
She made a lot of shredded radish cakes, so Yan Funing picked up two more and put them on the piece of oil paper in Ali's hand.

Ali thanked him again with tears in his eyes.

Fu Nanyao wrinkled her nose when she looked at his appearance: "Your family is poor, but that doesn't mean you don't care about cleanliness. You should wash your clothes."

Ali saw that everyone in the Fu family was indeed clean. Not only their skin was fair, but their clothes were also very clean and tidy.

Especially Bei Mo's brother, there is not a single wrinkle on his clothes.

"I see."

Ali held the cake and ran away.

When he ran away, there was a slight sob, and Wan Niang heard it.

This young man is several months older than Funing, but he does not have the ability to live alone.

Thinking of this, Wan Niang felt even more sorry for her daughter-in-law.

My daughter-in-law makes money to support the family, and she also takes care of her blind mother-in-law. I will never find such a good daughter in the world!

Then he said to his eldest son: "Ci Yi, please treat Funing well!"

Fu Ciyi was startled. What he was talking about just now was about Ali. Why did he say such a thing suddenly?
However, I immediately agreed to my mother's words and nodded in agreement.

Wan Niang sighed after hearing that her son deserved the perfunctory treatment.

Fu Ciyi noticed that his mother was dissatisfied, so he looked at Yan Funing: "Let's write."

"Okay." Yan Funing said happily, "Mom, my husband is going to teach me how to write."

Wan Niang nodded: "Go."

After the young couple returned to the room, Wan Niang also asked her daughter to help them back to the east wing.

"I think your brother is lukewarm towards your sister-in-law. The young man next to you can't wait to be with his wife all the time. He, on the other hand, can't wait to be two miles away from your sister-in-law."

Fu Nanyao did not dare to say that she had asked her brother, but his brother said he would not like Yan Funing.

Now that she knew about their two-year agreement, she understood why her brother and sister-in-law kept a distance.

And for this reason, she didn't dare to tell her mother.

He just said: "Mom, you also discovered it, and I also discovered it."

Wan Niang sat on the edge of the bed: "Tell me, how can we make a match?"

"Mom, I don't think we can come here openly. It's not like you don't know my brother's temper. He's too opinionated."

Wan Niang nodded: "What you said makes sense."

The west wing at this moment.

Fu Ciyi freed up one side of the desk, took a brand new writing brush, and asked her, "Can you write?"

Yan Funing: "Start writing?"

Looking at her expression, Fu Ciyi knew that she didn't know how to do it, so he said quietly: "You see, I'll do it."

"Yeah." Yan Funing nodded.

I saw his slender fingers gently twisting the pen from the tip to the root.

Then remove the floating hair on the pen tip, hang the pen on the pen holder, just hang the pen tip in the pen wash, and soak it in water.

After Fu Ciyi reached this point, he said again: "You can soak a new pen in cold or warm water, never boiling water."

"Okay, I know."

"After soaking, remove the glue on the pen bristles with your hands, then squeeze out the water, smooth the tip of the pen, and you can write with ink."

Yan Funing stretched out her hand: "I'll glue it on."

She is already very good at smoothing her hair.

It's not even a question of stroking the hair of the brush now.

Fu Ciyi handed her the new pen and sat back on the chair to eat shredded radish cake.

Yan Funing glanced at him secretly while stroking her hair.

He actually ate the two shredded radish pancakes so gracefully and slowly, inexplicably giving off the magnanimity of a noble man from an aristocratic family.

No wonder the book said that the noble lady in the capital was eager to marry him.

Fu Ciyi's eyebrows didn't move, but the way she looked at him, she had already caught his eye.

This woman is used to observing words and expressions.

After a while, Yan Funing showed him the opened pen.Fu Ciyi said calmly: "You can write with ink."

Thinking that the cake was delicious, he stood up and laid out the rice paper for her: "Five hundred horizontal lines, if there is no good one, add five hundred more."

After saying that, he took the plate and chopsticks and left the west wing.

Yan Funing thought he couldn't hear her and muttered: "I teach my wife so harshly. Tomorrow I go to the village school to teach students. I wonder how strict it will be? I will definitely scare away the schoolchildren!"

She really just wants to know traditional Chinese characters and be able to write them.

She never thought of asking someone to teach her and force her to practice calligraphy well.

No, he went out and didn't teach Yihengde how to write.

Then he stepped out of the room, but to his surprise, he was standing at the window with a plate and chopsticks, his handsome face expressionless.

She was in the house just now and couldn't see him.

You can see it as soon as you step out of the door.

It was very similar to the modern school days when you complained behind the class teacher’s back and got caught on the spot.

Yan Funing tugged at the corners of her lips in embarrassment and smiled stiffly: "Husband, Master, Fu Ciyi, I didn't mean that. What I meant was that it's better to be strict. A strict teacher will produce a good disciple."

Just when Yan Funing thought he would be angry and punish her, she didn't expect that he just smiled lightly and turned around to go to the kitchen.

Are you going to let her go?

Fu Ciyi will be back soon.

He lifted his robe and took a seat, tapped the rice paper at the end of the desk with his slender fingers, and said lazily: "Write a thousand horizontal lines."

Woohoo, I'm really punished.

Yan Funing sat on the round stool with a sad face and said aggrievedly: "But you haven't taught me how to write horizontally."

Without teaching her, how could she write brilliantly?

Fu Ciyi slowly raised his eyelids and looked at her: "Look at my hand gestures when I write."

Yan Funing blinked, and the hand in front of her was slender and white, with clear joints, and was too beautiful.

"Your hands are so pretty!"

"Yan Funing, flattery is useless, one thousand and one hundred times."

Hearing the sound, Yan Funing lowered the corners of her lips.

She regretted asking him to teach her, it was too harsh.

Afraid of being punished again, she pursed her lips, imitated his gesture of pinching the pen, and adjusted the pen in her hand.

Seeing that her writing was still irregular despite adjusting it, Fu Ciyi stood up, clasped her small hand with his big palm, and pushed her two fingers to where they should be placed.

Then he quickly withdrew his hand.

Sure enough, his hand was able to hold hers in his palm.

Fu Ciyi put his hands behind his back, closed his palms unnaturally, and pinched them again.

Her hands were delicate and soft, so soft that they seemed to have no bones, and her fingertips were so soft that they could easily deform when he pinched them.

Yan Funing didn't think much about it at all. She only knew that it was normal to teach writing and correct posture and to have her hands touched.

Then he raised his eyes and looked at him standing: "Then how do I write?"

Fu Ciyi clenched the hand behind his back and coughed lightly: "I hold your hand, and you feel the strength, especially the strength of starting, moving and closing the pen."

Yan Funing simply stood up and raised her hand: "You can hold it."

Fu Ciyi was startled.

Is she too naive, or is there some other reason?
Seeing the white and soft little hand right in front of him, he still held it.When he taught her to write horizontally, his heart skipped a beat.

He held her hand and wrote three horizontal strokes in succession.

Soon, Yan Funing said happily: "I can do it."

Only then did Fu Ciyi retract his hand, sit back on the chair, calm down, and concentrate on copying.

After an unknown amount of time, Yan Funing whispered: "Fu Ciyi, can I write less? My hands hurt."

Her hands were shaking.

The correct posture for holding a pen when writing calligraphy is different from holding a scalpel.

(End of this chapter)