[He stood outside the Xiaoxiang Pavilion, listening to the low gasps from inside. There were still burn marks on the modern drawings on his palms. This time, he had to go against the fate of the Red Mansion!
In his last life, Yue Ling saw the broken jade with the word "Fang Qing" engraved on it in the museum, and realized that the blood and tears in "A Dream of Red Mansions" had been shed for three hundred years.
When he opened his eyes again, he became the orphan of the run-down Yue family outside the city of Jinling. He was crashing into the chaos of people dragging Daiyu around in the Lin family. How could this weak little body like a willow survive the mud of the Jia family and have a good death?
"I, Yue Ling, have adopted this girl as my adopted daughter." He squeezed Daiyu's cold hand tightly, his eyes filled with the light of modern architectural drawings swirling in his mind.
His fingertips brushed against the seams of the green brick wall, and the mortise and tenon structures he had engraved into his DNA suddenly came to life. The third courtyard rose from the ground, and the bamboo shadow shook the Lin family's letter of appointment to pieces; the meandering water flowed around the newly built study, and the fragrance of ink from the poetry meeting overshadowed the Jia family's calculations.
But Lin Ruhai's home letter was as urgent as a spark, saying "the orphan girl should return to her family"; Mrs. Wang's soft sedan ran over the bluestone and said with a smile, "the ancestors are looking forward to Yu'er day and night."
Yue Ling touched the jade ruler in his sleeve that could measure the earth's veins, and protected Daiyu in the newly built "small garden". There was a warm pavilion that could nourish the lungs, a library full of unique books, and a dragnet that he had woven with his architectural wisdom.
"Dad, the moon in this garden is rounder than the moon in Jia's house." Daiyu held up his newly made glazed lamp, and the tear mole at the end of her eye shone like a star in the warm light.
