Gold und Jade werden wie Zucker verwendet, um einen eifersüchtigen König anzulocken

Gold und Jade werden wie Zucker verwendet, um einen eifersüchtigen König anzulocken

Autor:Anonym

Kategorien:Süßer Stamm

1. Kapitel Eins Am neunten Tag des zwölften Mondmonats im einundvierzigsten Jahr der Xianlong-Ära ist es günstig, das Haus zu reinigen, andere Tätigkeiten sollten jedoch vermieden werden. An einem kalten Nachmittag im zwölften Mondmonat fegte der Nordwind immer wieder über die Baumwip

Kapitel 1

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My master said, "Don't let the good stuff go to outsiders," and told me to choose one of my sixteen fellow disciples that I liked, and he would make decisions for me in the future. Without thinking, I chose Yunzhou, but everyone said it was like a beautiful flower stuck in cow dung.

Later I found out that "fertile water" referred to all the senior brothers, while "cow dung" referred to me.

After much painful reflection, I decided to act as a matchmaker for Senior Brother Yunzhou and find a fairy-like woman to match him, so as to atone for my sins.

To be fair, I also took the opportunity to worry about Senior Brother Jiang Chen. Given his personality, I felt that only a shrewish girl could tame him.

Unexpectedly, my good intentions offended both of my senior brothers...

When a woman pursues a man, she'll be invincible.

My master always says I'm clueless and slow-witted, like I'm missing a screw in my head. Actually, it's not my fault.

I have sixteen senior brothers, ten junior uncles, and one master. Adding the servants who do odd jobs, there are a total of seventy-two men in the Xiaoyao Sect. Xiao Hebao and I are the only two women. Xiao Hebao is my maid, and she's two years younger than me. I have no female elders above me, nor any close female friends below me. I've learned many things on my own, so it's inevitable that I'm a bit slow on the uptake.

My fellow disciples and I developed a carefree personality, so at first I didn't notice Jiang Chen's sinister intentions. It wasn't until one day when Xiao Hebao reminded me: "Miss, why does Young Master Jiang always sound a little different when he calls your name? He's from the capital, so he shouldn't have any regional accent."

I was wielding a sword, sweating profusely, when I casually asked, "Why did the tune change?"

Little Pocket said mysteriously, "I always feel that when he calls you, he doesn't call you Momo, he calls you Momo!"

"Hmm?" I sheathed my sword and frowned as I tried to recall. But I've always been careless, so I really hadn't paid much attention to it.

I decided to try it out.

I took my sword and went to the cherry orchard. Jiang Chen was probably taking advantage of Master's nap by the stream to steal some cherries.

I looked up and searched around the orchard.

The cherry trees in the orchard are all over a hundred years old, with lush branches and leaves, tall and verdant. In the fragrant April, when spring is in full bloom, the sunlight shines down from above, illuminating the branches and leaves, creating three or four different shades of green on the same branch, some deep emerald, some light turquoise, a truly beautiful sight. The small, round cherries, red as agate, hang delicately and charmingly from the treetops.

I swallowed hard, and suddenly heard a soft sound of running water behind me.

I turned around and was stunned.

Hidden in the lush greenery, dappled with sunlight, Jiang Chen reclined on a tree branch, dozens of red cherries scattered on the lapel of his white shirt. He held a small wine jug in one hand and a cherry in the other, tilting the jug to pour a trickle of wine over the red cherry…

To be honest, at that moment I forgot why I came here. All I could see was a picture: a deep, lush green, a white long robe, a dark wine pot, and a red cherry.

This painting is both serene and dynamic, with bright and harmonious colors. The figure in the painting, with half-closed starry eyes, is leisurely and carefree, exuding an indescribable charm that catches the eye.

Jiang Chen put a cherry in his mouth, sat up straight, and smiled at me: "Momo, what are you daydreaming about? Are you perhaps mesmerized by me?"

With a "smack," the beautiful mood, the wonderful scene, and the good feeling were instantly swept away by his "pat pat," vanishing without a trace.

He really did call out "Momo"!

I immediately felt dizzy and furious. Looking closer, I realized his smile was so suggestive and flirtatious it was almost unreal!

I gritted my teeth and gasped for breath, really wanting to slap Chef Zhang's infamous stinky shoe sole across his handsome face, leaving a long eggplant-shaped mark with a "smack".

You might say he's incoherent, but when he argues, his words flow like a never-ending river, each one unique and full of nuance, leaving a lasting impression. It's only after a long while that you realize he was actually insulting you.

So, he definitely did it on purpose; look how wickedly he smiles. I need to go tell my master, and while I'm at it, strongly demand that I change my name.

The master was dozing off in a wicker chair by the stream. However, he never admitted that he was dozing off; he always emphasized that he was practicing his exercises and cultivating his inner energy.

I stormed up and shouted, "Master!"

He was indeed dozing off, but my shout jolted him awake, and he almost tumbled off the old rattan chair.

He sat up, quickly reverting to his dignified and elegant master demeanor, looked at me with loving eyes, and asked with concern, "Xiao Mo, were you bitten by a dog?"

I jumped up and down, gritting my teeth, and said, "Jiang Chen bit me!"

"Don't say that, Jiang Chen is your senior brother."

I angrily complained, "He told me to touch him!"

The master stared at him, and said in a serious tone, "Your name is Mo Mo!"

I frowned, quite displeased. My master often feigned ignorance, pretending to be confused rather than truly clear-headed. As his last disciple, I know him too well. Look, he's playing dumb again, trying to smooth things over. Fine, I'll just state my purpose directly.

"Master, why did you give me this name? I don't like it!"

"Because you are my last disciple, the very last one."

"Why did I have to choose the surname Mo?" I don't dislike the character "末" (mo), but I do dislike it when it's combined with "莫" (mo).

"Your origins are quite mysterious! I went out for a walk early this morning and suddenly found a bundle on the grass. I thought I had struck it rich, so I happily opened it, and you let out a scream that almost scared me to death."

“Master, this name is hard to pronounce, and it has a homonym!” Just thinking about how Jiang Chen had “touched” me for so long made my heart flutter.

Master said with great enthusiasm, "Mo Mo, what a wonderful name! It's elegant and unique, much better than names like Cuihua or Taohong. This is the name I'm most proud of. I've been studying Tang and Song poetry extensively, and now I finally have a chance to put my skills to use."

I'm so frustrated I feel like I could vomit blood.

"Master, I'm going to change my name anyway."

"What do you want to call me?"

"I don't care what name I have, but I absolutely do not want the surname Mo."

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