Suddenly, Xu Zhenguan turned her head back, exhaling wine-scented breath as she stared at him and said:
"The poem you wrote for the Dalang of the Dong family, I saw it, it's very good."
Zhao Douan looked at her in confusion: "Hmm?"
Because he was a puppet, no matter how much he drank, he wouldn't get drunk.
Xu Zhenguan puffed her cheeks and said gloomily: "You've never written one for me."
Her eyes, filled with a sense of intoxication, seemed to say two words: I want!
Zhao Douan smiled and, after a moment's thought, nodded and said: "Alright."
With that, he immediately walked over to the long table, sat cross-legged, and pushed aside the cups and plates on the table, clearing a small section of the tabletop.
Then, he looked around and said helplessly: "Your Majesty, there's no brush and ink..."
Drunk and leaning against the railing, Xu Zhenguan waved her sleeve, causing a set of the Four Treasures of the Study to drop, and said with a silly smile:
"You... write..."
