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Chapter 55: When the Wild Goose Returns, the Moon is Full on the West Building(1/2)

"Let's continue practicing calligraphy!"

"Lian'er, you didn't finish writing just now. It's okay. My husband will teach you how to write!"

"That's it!" Huang Tinghui directed the little girl to pick up the branch and write on the river sand one stroke at a time.

His right hand held the little girl's hand tightly, and the two of them pressed against each other tightly, writing on the river sand.

Huang Tinghui was almost half hugging the little girl.

His cheek was gently pressed against the little girl's delicate skin, and he taught the little girl how to write seriously.

The two people's cheeks were so intimately pressed together that the little girl could feel the slightest coolness coming from Huang Tinghui's cheeks.

Her cheeks soon started to glow with flying clouds, and the temperature of her little face also rose rapidly.

Where is the writing here?

How can anyone write like this?

The little girl's mind was distracted for a moment, and she felt ashamed and panicked.

The current posture of the two of them is really too embarrassing.

If someone passes by the dilapidated thatched house and sees the current posture of Huang Tinghui and the little girl.

He would definitely scold me, "It's offensive to morals."

Although this posture is embarrassing, it is really comfortable.

They were in such close contact with each other.

Feeling the hug of my husband.

The cheeks and husband were pressed tightly together.

It’s so good!

"Lian'er, you have random thoughts!"

"What are you thinking about in your little head all day long?"

"Such a shameful thing."

The little girl secretly cursed herself for being shameless.

How could you like this feeling?

At this time, the little girl only felt that her mouth was dry and her whole body felt slightly hot.

She only felt that her whole body was weak, and her legs were getting a little softer at this moment.

The whole person seemed to melt into Huang Tinghui's arms.

With this thought in his mind, the movements of his hands followed Huang Tinghui's fiddle.

It was Huang Tinghui who called into Wu Feilian's ear, "Lian'er, be serious!"

The little girl regained her composure.

Thinking of her random thoughts just now, the little girl felt ashamed and panicked.

A breeze blew by, taking away some inexplicable feelings.

The little girl kept her mind straight and followed Huang Tinghui as he wrote these words one stroke at a time.

"Feilian Wu!"

These three words appeared on the river sand, although they were not as good as the three words Huang Tinghui wrote on the side.

But it's much better than before.

"Great, Lian'er has made some progress!" Huang Tinghui encouraged him, and he used wooden strips to erase all the handwriting written on the river sand.

Then, he patiently taught the little girl to practice other characters.

In the courtyard, several hens made a "clucking" sound.

A few more eggs were added to the chicken cage.

A crowing rooster held down a fat insect with his sharp claws.

The sharp corner of his mouth pecked hard and swallowed the fat worm into his belly.

The crowing rooster made a sound of satisfaction.

Viewed from a high altitude, the entire Funiuling is golden.

There are squirrels jumping between the trees, hiding the pine cones they collect in a hidden place so that they can eat them in the winter.

In order to survive this severe winter, squirrels have made a lot of preparations.

Not just squirrels, but many animals in the forest are beginning to prepare for the coming harsh winter.

A hunter also appeared in the Funiu Ridge. He shot out a sharp arrow and quickly penetrated the body of a fox.

The hunter was extremely happy to pick up the fox's body. This trip into the mountains finally did not return empty-handed.

In the distance, the old fisherman took a swig of the last bit of turbid wine in the gourd.

When the last drop of the turbid wine could not be poured out, the old fisherman reluctantly tied the gourd containing the wine around his waist.

I saw the old fisherman taking a fishing net full of holes from the lonely boat.

With a strong throw, the fishing net was thrown towards the river.

The old fisherman chanted, "Fish, fish, come to my net quickly!"

It seems that if he thinks like this, the fish will really hit his fishing net.

At this time, the dilapidated thatched house seemed like a paradise, isolated from the distractions of the world.

There were only two people left, hugging each other like that.

Writing words on the river sand one stroke at a time.

I don’t know how long I have been practicing, but Huang Tinghui also secretly feels that he is almost done.

The little girl's hands are probably sore.

As a beginner, the little girl just learned to write.

Don't use too much force.

"Lian'er, are your arms sore?" Huang Tinghui asked in a gentle voice.

"A little bit, but Lian'er can persevere!" the little girl said to Huang Tinghui.

"No more practice today, no more practice!" Huang Tinghui released his hold on the little girl's hand.

The grip just now was too tight, and there was sweat between Huang Tinghui's palms.

"Aren't you going to practice?" The little girl's nerves quickly relaxed.

At this time, waves of soreness shot through her arms.

It turns out that it wasn't that my arm wasn't sore just now, but that the little girl was too involved in practicing calligraphy.

"Well, no more practice!"

"There is an old saying that goes like this, it is called relaxation and relaxation, which is the way of civility and martial arts!"

"Everything should be done in a relaxed manner."

"Only by relaxing can we get things done."

"Too much is not enough!" Huang Tinghui explained to the little girl.

Listening to Huang Tinghui's explanation, the little girl nodded in understanding.

Anyway, in her eyes, whatever her husband says is right.

Everything you say makes sense!

She doesn't care whether she understands it or not, as long as she listens to her husband, she will be fine.

"Lian'er, let me teach you a poem!" Huang Tinghui suddenly thought.

"word?"

"Is it the same as poetry?" The little girl's big eyes flashed, and those bright eyes were full of curiosity.

"yes!"

"Many literati like it, those words are beautiful!"

After Huang Tinghui finished speaking, he picked up the wooden strips placed aside and smoothed the river sand.

Then he picked up a branch and wrote a row of extremely beautiful words on the surface of the river sand.

"Who in the clouds sent a brocade book? When the wild goose returns, the full moon will appear on the west tower."

After writing, Huang Tinghui put the branch aside.

He said to the little girl, "The words of this sentence are called: Who in the clouds sends a brocade book, and when the wild goose returns, the moon will be full on the west tower."
To be continued...
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