[Practice pen again]
seven hundred years ago
Xingyu sat on a peach blossom tree with a wine pot in his arms. Qinglin, a well-known aloof immortal, passed under the tree carrying a few pots of wine to go to the Beilan Emperor's banquet.
Maybe the wine was too pure and fragrant. The man on the tree moved and called Qing Lin, laughing so hard that he deserved to be beaten: "Hey, little fairy, give me a pot of wine to drink. How about it?"
Qinglin: "... Go away."
Later, Qing Lin found out that the man was the famous Yinluo Sanren Xingyu.
Seven hundred years later
Qing Lin, the Immortal Lord Yu Ming who has long been famous for his unparalleled talent and appearance, was sitting alone under his peach tree drinking that day. Suddenly he felt something was wrong, so he grabbed the sword on the white jade table and turned around to take action.
Peach blossoms abounded, and he saw the man he had been waiting for seven hundred years standing in front of him. He stretched out two fingers and gently pushed the sword across his throat. He still smiled so badly that he didn't deserve a beating: "Alin, give me a bottle of wine to drink. How about it?"
Qing Lin pursed her lips and sheathed her sword for a while: "Do it yourself."
Clean, polite and deserted, like a relegated immortal from heaven × carefree and idle, like a rich man
1v1 Shuangjie. Switching perspectives between attack and reception. It may be a little bit cruel. I'll spoil it here first.
Another short essay to practice writing, and then it's my first time to write about ancient style, cultivating immortals, etc. I hope you don't mind! !
Finally, thank you for your support! Bow!
Intention: drinking to drown sorrows makes them worse
