At the moment, a young man in white is sitting on a round stool placed on the stage.


    In front of him, a seven stringed Guqin was placed.


    The young man in white, with only a white ribbon, wears a white veil. His face is beautiful and warm, and his eyebrows and eyes are picturesque. He looks like a figure coming out of ancient Chinese painting.


    There are bandits and gentlemen. They are like fighting and polishing.


    This is everyone''s view of this young man: "Tongyin, Manchu court clear day.". I fell to the ground in those years, but now I''m running. The wind and smoke in the green field, the vegetation in Pingquan, and the wine in Dongshan. When he is young, he will rectify the affairs of heaven and earth, and live for his husband. "


    With that, the boy fingered the last string.


    Ink Jue looked at the tut tut praise: "grandfather, you see I recommend to you a good person, people''s birthday words can be much higher than those coquettish bitches."


    The old man looked at the young man on the stage and nodded: "this longevity poem can be seen as a cultural one."


    "That''s right. I don''t know who I''m looking for." Ink Jue a face to invite credit.


    Staring at the youth on the stage, Mo Leng Qing''s eyes are more and more dark.


    "Boy, what are you going to do on stage?" Asked master mo.


    "Play a tune." Ling Ye replied.


    "What tune?"


    Ling night a little thought, "Guangling scattered."


    Listen, everyone looks different.