The fragrant and tender face is more beautiful than the flowers. The fingers are like peeled onion roots and mouths are like red dan. Every frown and smile touches the soul. The face is like condensed fat in the sleeping water. The white jasmine smoke and silk soft gauze is the winding white smoke cage of plum blossoms and water skirt. The body is soft smoke and silk, and it is really a bit pink, greasy and delicate.

Ling Zhexiao looked at it and praised: "The girl's flute sound is fresh and elegant, and the melody is even more soothing and beautiful, just like the lonely stream. It's really refreshing and pleasant. This song is really intoxicating."

Lan Yue also bowed slightly to Ling Zhexiao: "Thank you for your praise, Lan Yue dare not take it." He owed Ling Ziliang and Meng Xian and said, "What do you think of the two young masters?"

When asked a little suddenly, Ling Ziliang didn't know how to speak. At this time, someone brought other pastries. Ling Ziliang picked up the chopsticks and bit them, and then said for a long time: "It sounds good." Then he stretched out his chopsticks to pick up the pastries he had just brought.

Meng Xian looked at Ling Ziliang who was eating pastries, and then looked at the girl who was staring at her helplessly: "The girl's flute sound is melodious, but it corresponds to crispness and softness, but it coexists and clearness, just like the sound of nature, pleasant to the heart! There seems to be a story telling the girl's flute sound."

When Lan Yue heard this, she also owed to Meng Xian, and then said, "Young Master really knows Lan Yue very well. This flute is a relic left to me by my father before he went there. So every time he blew it, Lan Yue missed her deceased father. Young Master is really Lan Yue's soulmate. Unfortunately, Lan Yue is just a woman."

As he said that, Lan Yue hurried away with tears in his eyes, leaving three people confused. Ling Ziliang and Meng Xian both looked at Ling Zhexiao at the same time. He saw him looking at the distant back with a black line, thinking in his heart that he had found who they were, and hadn't investigated the background?

Then he turned around and saw his younger brother and Meng Xian staring at him, which was even more embarrassed. So he cleared his throat, took a sip of tea, and then clapped his hands to signal the next girl.

Ling Ziliang looked at Ling Zhexiao's series of movements and asked Meng Xian: "Do you think his hands hurt?"

This time, Meng Xian said that he would spit out a mouthful of tea, then took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth. Ling Zhexiao heard the sound and looked here, and just saw that scene. Meng Xian felt that his face might have been lost in one moment, but he could not panic, so he had to wipe his mouth calmly, then pour the teacup into water again, holding the cup and staring at the front without saying a word.

Ling Ziliang didn't care and continued to ask: "Why do you ask you, do you think his hands hurt?"

Meng Xian was a little helpless when asked and had to speak: "I don't know, but seeing that his palms were a little red, I think it should hurt a little."

After seeing Ling Ziliang hear the answer, Meng Xian looked at Ling Zhexiao's hand meaningfully, and then nodded. He thought Ling Ziliang would go over and ask him if his hand hurts or what he would say, but Ling Ziliang just finished looking at his hand and said: "Well, I feel that too." Meng Xian's eyes twitched a little.
Chapter completed!