This answer was both unexpected and expected.
What was unexpected was that the only surviving assassin could withstand Wei Ning's sixteen tortures. What was unexpected was that the master who ordered them was Xu Qiuhe.
Wei Cheng regretted for a moment, whether it was a wise decision to push Li You to Xu Qiuhe.
He was slightly lost in thought for a while, then came back to his senses and asked calmly: "Is there anyone else?"
Wei Ning paused and didn't know what he meant. The assassin only said Xu Qiuhe's name, and said that the woman wanted the lives of the ladies in the car. As for the names of the ladies in the car, they didn't know. .
As a subordinate, it was a dereliction of duty for a subordinate to fail to understand the meaning of the Lord's words. He immediately felt a sense of crisis and knelt down with clasped fists: "I am ashamed of myself. I will bring this matter to trial again. I will definitely not let a slip through the net." fish."
Wei Cheng waved his hand: "No need."
He raised his head slightly and looked at the flowing clouds and birds outside the window for a while, and thought for a moment: "I didn't come home last night, so someone must be unable to sit still."
"You go back to your house and get some more golden sore medicine."
"Yes." Wei Ning asked smoothly: "Is it Mrs. Shen who wants to use it?"
"No, I use it."
After Wei Ning left, the room returned to silence. Only the sound of clear breathing could be heard faintly from the beauty couch behind the six emerald folding screens. He listened quietly for a while, then stood up and pulled out the book on the shelf behind him. Open a brocade box, take out the folding fan from the box and spread it on the table.
Large bones of tortoise shell, small bones of agarwood, the lacquered fans are empty, waiting for the owner of the fans to add a poetic and picturesque feeling.
He raised his hands and rolled up his sleeves to study the ink, and dipped his Qingyuhu pen in thick ink, slowly sketching a picture of a beauty sleeping under the window in spring. Beside the beauty's couch, where she was taking a nap, two white rabbits looked left and right, and an elm tree stretched out of the window. The branches flutter in the wind.
The beauty in the painting has black hair flowing down to the ground, showing a variety of amorous feelings.
Although the painting is good, the right side always feels a little empty after finishing it.
Wei Ning was coming back at this time.
He was holding a pen and looking down at the blank spaces in deep thought. He asked without raising his head, "Did anyone say anything?"
Wei Ning thought to himself that his lord really had a clever plan. When he went back to get the medicine, he met two people who came to inquire.
"Yes, when I returned home, I met Madam Wang and the eldest young master one after another. Madam Wang asked who used this medicine. My subordinate said it was for you, Mr. Shaojun. Madam Wang was very worried and asked where you are now. , said that he wanted to come and see you, but his subordinate declined, saying that you are resting now and will go back when you feel better. The eldest son and the queen said the same thing, but they did not ask where you were, and only asked the subordinate to tell you if you were injured. It’s serious, so it’s best to go back home to recuperate.”
"Um."
Wei Ning noticed the hand holding the pen. The wound on the back of the hand was so deep that the bone could be seen. Although the bleeding had stopped, the edge of the wound was slightly red and swollen, revealing the fresh flesh and dark blood inside.
These days, I can’t use the sword anymore.
"Shaojun's hand is badly injured. There is no rush to paint this fan. Why don't you wait until the injury heals before painting?"
Wei Cheng took out a book and fanned the wet ink on the painting until it was completely dry. "Go down and rest. You've been working hard all day and night, and you're tired."
Wei Ning did not dare to persuade him any more and retreated.
The sky was already dark, and at first glance, it was full of rich darkness. The lamp was as bright as a bean, and only illuminated a large area below the lamp on the table.
He held the lamp and lit the candlesticks in the room one by one, and the room was now as bright as day. He walked into the inner room with a pen in his hand, lifted the gauze curtain, sat sideways on the beauty's couch, and looked down at the sleeping woman.
He slowly brought the pen close to her bright and rosy cheek, and made gestures left and right.
Seeing that a bastard was about to be painted on her face, she opened her eyes in time and looked slyly at the smiling phoenix eyes above.
Wei Cheng took back his hand.
"So sleepy." She covered her hands and yawned: "What time is it?"
Wei Cheng didn't expose her, a smile flashed in his eyes, he stood up with a flick of his sleeves, and slowly hung the pen back on the pen holder, "It's not until the end of the year."
"Oh, I've been sleeping for so long." She got up, stretched out, and walked around the room. When she saw Wei Cheng holding a gold folding fan in his hand, she walked up and took a look, with a little flattery. Tone, said: "Is this your new fan?"
Wei Cheng never used a folding fan to dust the dust, something that the literati liked to use when they were chatting in gatherings or sitting down to talk, and he even disdained to use it. He always had only a sword on his waist.
When he heard her asking, the smile in his eyes gradually disappeared, he snorted, closed the folding fan in his hand with a "snap" and threw it on the case.
"Okay, why are you so angry?" Shen Yinxiao picked up the folding fan on the table and slowly unfolded the picture of beauty sleeping in spring in her hands. She couldn't help but sigh: "The painting is really good, but why is the right side left blank? Many of them look a bit empty, it would be better if there were inscriptions.”
She was so flattering, but she just overheard the conversation between Wei Ning and Wei Cheng while pretending to sleep, and knew that he had helped her find out the murderer behind the scenes, so even the tone of her words when she spoke to him became fake.
What a master at taking advantage of the situation.
Wei Cheng sat down and leaned lazily on the back of the chair, tapping his fingers on the rosewood table casually: "I found out so much for you, why don't you express your gratitude?"
She pondered: "You have everything I have, and you have everything I don't have."
She was a little discouraged: "What can I give you to thank you? Is there anything you want but don't have that I have."
The man didn't speak. After a long while, a vague voice came: "I drew a fan today, but there is no inscription, and I can't think of anything that satisfies me. Please write me an inscription."
"What if I think you are dissatisfied?"
"Then think about it until I'm satisfied." He glanced at her coolly: "Think about it carefully, don't be careless."
Shen Yinxiao thought about it seriously. The white rabbit in the painting was round and cute, and inexplicably reminded her of a sad and sad poem.
"The white rabbit walks here and there, its clothes are not as new as new, and its people are not as good as before." She looked at him: "What do you think of this?"
"The white rabbit wanders here and there, its clothes are not as good as new, and its people are not as good as before." He recited this poem silently, and the sixteen words rolled on his tongue a thousand times, then suddenly he clicked it, and a smile appeared on his eyebrows: "Is this reminding me that when there is a new person, don't forget the old one?"
She blushed and said nothing. She just urged him: "How about this?"
He pondered for a while: "That's all, I can't think of anything else good at the moment, so this is it."
After saying that, he picked up the pen on the shelf, didn't bother to wash it, handed it to her, raised his sleeve and started to grind the ink.
"Shall I write?" She held the pen and felt that the task was arduous.
"My injury hasn't healed yet, do you want me to write?" His voice was lazy, with a slight nasal sound that had not healed from the cold.
The sun in winter is not as strong as in summer. After a whole winter, Wei Cheng's hands, no matter how dark they are, have become white. His jade-colored hands stand out against the dark inkstone, and they look graceful and graceful. If it weren't for the terrifying scar on the back of his right hand, It should be more eye-catching at this time.
