Xia Chan took the "Heart Sutra" and "Jian Jia" and returned to the Lingchan Moon Palace.

at this time.

The sun has set.

As night falls, a bright moon rises in the sky.

In the pavilion in the back garden, Qin Jianjia was dressed in a snow-white dress, sitting there quietly, looking at the moon and meditating.

There is also a back garden here with many flowers, plants and trees.

But there are no ponds and green lotuses.

Bai Ling was wearing a pink skirt and was squatting in the flowers nearby, squinting her eyes and sniffing the flowers that just bloomed today. Her pretty pink face was full of expressions of enjoyment.

Xia Chan walked in from the round door. When he passed behind her, she quickly stood up and said, "Chanchan, did I take the opportunity to bully you?"

Xia Chan ignored her, walked to the pavilion, handed the rice paper in front of Miss Qin, and said: "He wrote a poem back to Miss Qin."

As soon as these words came out, Bai Ling immediately ran over, stretched his neck, opened his eyes wide, and leaned over to take a look.

Qin Jianjia was slightly startled, took it in her hand, and read the "Heart Sutra" first, and then her eyes fell on the poem.

Bai Ling suddenly read out in a crisp voice: "The jianjia is green, and the white dew is like frost. The so-called beauty is on the side of the water. If you follow it back, the road is long and blocked. If you follow it back, it will be in the middle of the water. The jianjia is luxuriant, and the white dew is still fresh.

.The so-called beauty is in the meadow of the water... The dew is not gone when you pick the bamboo shoots. The so-called beauty is in the stream of the water..."

After reading, she suddenly raised her head and said: "Chanchan, is this what my uncle wrote to the young lady on his own initiative?"

Qin Jianjia was startled, then raised her head and looked at her.

Xia Chan clenched the sword in her hand, lowered her head and said, "Yes."

Bai Ling was stunned for a moment, then asked: "Did my uncle tell me what this poem means?"

Xia Chan bit her pink lips and shook her head.

Bai Ling was stunned, with a look of surprise on his face: "Didn't my uncle say anything? He just wrote a poem like this and asked you to send it over?"

Xia Chan nodded.

There was suddenly silence in the pavilion.

After a while, Bai Lingfang murmured: "Miss, the title of this poem is called Jian Jia, and there are three Jian Jia in it, and it seems to be a poem asking for love, bah bah bah, it's not a plea for love, it's a love poem. My uncle, he
Chapter completed!