National Beauty

Zhao Heng's stay was not for the Guo family brothers and sisters to sit down and continue to eat. It was for this purpose. The three brothers and sisters could no longer have an appetite. Zhao Heng didn't want to force them to eat. He just had something to say.

Mouth disease is the negative scale of King Shou, Chu Wang and others knew it well, since he had said that he wanted to talk to the Guo brothers and sisters, his elder brother Rui Wang and the fourth princes of the Chu Dynasty gave a wink.

King Rui nodded and called the Four Princes. The two left in advance. Before leaving, King Rui once again comforted Zhao Heng and said: "We are brothers and sisters, Duanhui or children, and occasionally talk angry, the third brother don’t take it to heart, I Then go to the palace to teach Duanhui and let her come over and make amends for you."

Zhao Hengli ignored it.

King Rui knew that he was such a lonely temper. He didn't think he was disgusted, and took the fourth prince away.

Zhao Heng left his seat and looked at Song Jianing and said, "Go."

Song Jianing was scared when Princess Duanhui mocked Zhao Heng for stammering without mercy. Her face was pale and pale, and she didn't see any blood. After all, the dispute between Princess Wang Ye was caused by her, and she was compared with Princess Duanhui in public. Zhao Heng’s public humiliation scared Song Jianing’s courage, fearing that the future emperor would turn her anger on her.

Hearing a cold word from Zhao Heng, Song Jianing felt cold all over, but he didn't dare not to. He looked at Guo Shu helplessly, and turned to follow suit.

Guo Shu was very worried, but King Shou, who was most unwelcome to Emperor Xuande, cast a deep face, and was more frightening than his uncle. He did not dare to speak out for a while. King Chu didn't have any scruples. He thought that his younger brother was going to take an eleven or twelve-year-old girl to vent his anger, and followed up and persuaded him: "My third brother, this is all blame for Duanhui's mischief, don't embarrass this girl."

If she couldn't eat enough, she would be ridiculed by Princess Duanhui. King Chu looked at Song Jianing, whose face was as white as paper, and really couldn't bear her innocent punishment.

"Further." Brother Zhao Heng squinted and went to the study without looking back.

The king of Chu was stunned, he was too worried, what kind of words did he think he was too worried?

He couldn't understand it, and Song Jianing, who was so afraid of Liushen Wuzhu, didn't carelessly guess. Finally, after seeing his cousin, he followed Zhao Heng as a little pitiful. They are all in the front yard, and the dining hall is not far from the study, and it's just around a corridor. Song Jianing was trembling, only daring to look at the belt of the future emperor. The study was too quiet and quiet like a cave where countless beasts were hidden. No one knew what would come out suddenly in the next moment.

In the middle of the study is a hall, the east room is a collection of books, and the west room is a studio. Zhao Heng went directly to the west room.

Song Jianing followed like a tail, and Zhao Heng entered. She subconsciously raised her hand to open the door curtain that was about to fall. Unexpectedly, the prince in front stood still at the door, and the curtain that was opened has not fallen yet. Song Jianing raised her head suspiciously, and met Zhao Heng's appearance of picking a curtain for her. The young man's skin was as white as jade. Although his eyebrows were alienated, he did not carry any anger, and was cold but not cold.

Song Jianing was stunned, and only then did she notice that in just over half a year, the prince had grown a lot taller. It was obvious that Xiao Guo Xiao was one year old. Now they are almost the same size, but Guo Xiao is more robust. These are as good as a sword out of its sheath, Zhao Heng is thin and as elegant as a bamboo in the deep forest.

Such a man makes people not dare to approach rashly, but he is not too afraid.

Song Jianing felt less panicked. If he really wanted to punish her, how could he pick curtains for her? Not only is not afraid, Song Jianing suddenly felt that the future emperor looked indifferent, but was actually very attentive and considerate. He would ask her if she would like to pick persimmons, and would kindly help her add food when others laughed that she could eat. When the princess ridiculed her, stop it in time.

The future emperor is a very good person.

"Thank you, Lord." Not afraid, Song Jianing remembered the rules, first thanked him and stepped in, subconsciously looked at Zhao Heng's study, did not see the expected rows of bookshelves, only saw the turquoise bonsai in the corner. In the huge study room, there is only a red sandalwood rectangular desk in front of the window, one table and one chair, two east and west Duobao Pavilions, one is neatly placed with delicate porcelain bottles and porcelain jars, and the other is placed Holding all kinds of paper.

There were too few things. Song Jianing looked at the desk. It was all plain furnishings. Only a big yellow persimmon was very eye-catching.

Song Jianing opened her mouth blankly, this, it seems that she helped him pick the persimmon king, right?

Just thinking about it, the man behind him lowered the curtain and walked towards the desk, lightly slid his clothes and took a seat, looking at her with black eyes. Song Jianing approached with bated breath, stopped when he was three steps away from the man, and bowed his head to apologize: "Master, I blamed me for what happened just now. The princess is disrespectful to you because of me. Please punish me."

Then I secretly added a sentence in my heart: Don't hold back any grievances, hurt your body.

After realizing this person’s goodness, Song Jianing felt a little bit of pain. The prince of Yushu Linfeng was so noble. He tried not to speak as much as possible, but he had to endure the irony and sympathy from other princes and princes. All the sons gave the princess, so they would not marry the third son. The Emperor Xuande was so bad, and the King of Shou was still filial. Later, when he became the throne, he actually kept his filial piety for three years. The play said that the emperor's filial piety can be replaced by the moon.

The more Song Jianing thinks about it, the better he feels that King Shou is better.

Zhao Heng saw her eyelashes fluttering all the time, as if worried about his punishment. After watching for a while, he asked, "What's your sin?"

Song Jianing pursed his mouth and thought carefully about the aisle: "I shouldn't sneeze in front of the prince." It is a bad thing to sneeze.

Zhao Heng smiled, and it was fleeting, but the little girl who looked down respectfully didn't see it.

"No problem." He said without any emotion.

Song Jianing glanced at him anxiously: "Aren't you angry?"

Zhao Heng shook his head slightly, looked at her moist apricot eyes, and asked, "Not full?"

Speaking of her embarrassment all at once, Song Jianing blushed and bowed her head to deny: "I'm full, the third brother said nonsense."

Zhao Heng did not believe: "The truth."

Song Jianing trembled courageously, and nodded as he had no other choice.

"It's me, the hospitality is not good." Zhao Heng said slowly, since he rarely spoke to his father, he said so many words in one sentence in front of someone other than his elder brother for the first time.

Song Jianing didn't know the meaning of these words, she just felt flattered, and hurriedly said: "You are polite, you, you are very good..."

Her cheeks are red and red, which is a more attractive color than the finest rouge. Zhao Hengxi's calligraphy and painting are more sensitive to the best colors in the world. Looking at Song Jianing’s small face, he wondered if he could configure such paints. Curious and half teasing asked: "Where is it good?"

Maybe the answer to this question is the reason she likes him, other than the face.

Song Jianing is just a polite manner, and the prince is self-effacing and inadequate. If she doesn't say he is good, can she still agree? Zhao Heng suddenly asked the reason for the praise. Song Jianing was unprepared and made up temporarily: "The prince, the prince invites us to be a guest..."

What Zhao Heng wanted to listen to was not this, denying: "It's just to accompany guests, not to count."

He is not good at speaking long words, and has deliberately practiced to speak short sentences as much as possible, but carefully distinguishes, especially when there are few people, he can still hear that the pause between his two words is a little longer than others.

Song Jianing had no feeling at all, and continued to make up his mind, blinking and said: "You, you allow my sister and me to pick persimmons, and also gave us a basket."

This is a good one. Although it is not what Zhao Heng wants to hear, he can't refute it. She followed her words to reveal this: "You, like persimmons?"

Song Jianing nodded embarrassingly and admitted, but didn't get a response for a long time. Song Jianing was about to take a peek, suddenly a white hand stretched out in front of him. The man's palm was much wider than her, holding a big yellow persimmon. The persimmon is very ripe, and the thin layer of skin is almost unable to cover the rich flesh inside, and the fruity fragrance is lingering on the face.

Song Jianing hadn't eaten enough just now. She didn't eat much at all. She was still hungry. When she suddenly saw the persimmon she liked, she couldn't help swallowing, and she heard it all by herself.

"Eat." Zhao Heng whispered.

Song Jianing is embarrassed. There is no bowl here. He only peels the persimmons with his hands. The taste is indecent, and he softly refuses: "This is what the prince is after..."

Before he finished speaking, he interrupted: "Eat."

There was one missing, and the tone of command from the dignitaries came again. Song Jianing did not dare to disobey, took the persimmon, thought for a while, blushed and discussed: "Master, can I take it home and eat it again?"

Zhao Heng immediately said: "No."

He brought her to the study, and when she returned, she had a persimmon in her hand, so what was it for others to see?

There was no retreat, Song Jianing had to be ordered to eat persimmons, feeling the prince's gaze, Song Jianing first tore a small piece of persimmon skin, the fresh and plump flesh inside suddenly appeared, and the juice was squeezed out. Song Jianing was anxious to plug his mouth, fearing that the juice would fall and dirty the land of the prince.

After taking a few consecutive sips, the water finally stopped running, but when Song Jianing looked up, the corners of both sides of his mouth were covered with juice. She didn't notice it. Seeing the future emperor staring at her, Song Jianing was really embarrassed. He walked to the other side of the desk holding the persimmon, took out the veil, and turned around to eat. Soon, the quiet study room sounded the little girl's faint voice.

Zhao Heng tilted his head. The petite and petite fat girl stood there with her back turned to him, raised her hands, her head moved, reminding him that one day when he opened the window to paint, a chubby sparrow flew in boldly, holding the paintbrush in his hand. , The sparrow was jumping around on the desk, probably thirsty, and ran to peck the paint. The round and fat head was little by little, just like Song Jianing, and finally took a mouthful of vermilion paint and flew away.

It was a memory that made him happy, and Zhao Heng was unconsciously immersed in it.

Song Jianing ate a big persimmon as quickly as possible, wiped the corners of his mouth, and then wrapped the persimmon skin with a kerchief and stuffed it into his purse temporarily. He turned around and turned halfway after he was cleaned up. Song Jianing was stunned.

Opposite the desk, sitting sideways is a young man wearing a moon-white obscure python robe. The sun is bleak and warm in the winter afternoon, pouring in through the screen windows, just to envelop him, illuminating his handsome and clear face, and illuminating him. There was a slight smile on his lips. Song Jianing followed his line of sight and saw an inkstone with black ink inside.

Song Jianing blinked blankly. What's so funny about the ink?

At this moment, the young boy moved suddenly and raised his eyes to look at her.

The author has something to say: Zhao Heng: Why do you always stare at my waist?

Jianing: I dare not look at my face.

Zhao Heng: Dare below?

Jianing: Yes.

Zhao Heng: ... come in.

Song Jianing followed in dazedly. After a while, there was a shy cry from the room: "The prince is good or bad!"