Taoist temple in the mountains

Chapter 298, my words
The scorching sun was in the sky, the long sword pointed to the sky, the sharp and simple heart-chopping sword, the tea stains on the sword, shone brightly in the sun, almost blinding the eyes of the three of them.
Getaway, from—

As the spring breeze passed, the fallen leaves of the lush trees on the mountain wall fluttered. Li Yun was like a minion step by step, staying in mid-air with the fallen leaves, stepping on the fallen leaves, and brandishing his long sword.

Under the bewildered eyes of the three of them, the long sword waved.

sonorous—

Sparks splashed.

[A pot of wine among the flowers, drinking alone without a blind date]

[Raise a glass to invite the bright moon, and the shadows become three people]

The long sword fluttered, leaving deep and shallow scratches on the hard mountain wall.

Drinking alone under the moon, the poem is written on the mountain wall.

"Wait a minute, what's going on here, am I hallucinating?" Xiao Fang murmured as he looked at the poems written on the mountain wall. He didn't know calligraphy or poetry. With a sword, on the mountain wall, wrote a long poem.

"It's probably too late for me to take a photo now." Hu Xiaobing wanted to take out the photo, but found that the long poem had been completed, and the first chapter of drinking alone under the moon had been completed. The long sword with a sharp temperament has disappeared, as if it has never appeared.

The three of them didn't think it was a hallucination, Cheng Shi on the mountain wall in front of them was telling them that these were real, no special effects were added.

Even Hu Sheng, who claimed to have experienced many battles, swallowed his saliva. He had never seen such a skill, but as a calligrapher, the first thing he thought of was the calligraphy itself.

"Is this your word?"

"This is the character of the poor." Li Yun smiled slightly, waved the whisk that appeared again at an unknown time in his hand, and said indifferently: "Paper, pen and brush are too small and too soft for the poor. Mountains, and swords, can carry the words of poverty."

Hu Sheng walked forward with a cane, and tremblingly touched the handwriting carved by the long sword. It was flowing and unrestrained, and the wild grass was like a book. However, there was a trace of responsibility and a trace of responsibility in the unrestrained and unrestrained characters. nostalgia.

It's not really chic, but it's better than chic——

Finally, Hu Sheng took a deep breath.

"I have to admit, now you are stronger"

After a long time, Hu Sheng could only shake his head dejectedly, looking at the words in front of him, a painting on the mountain wall that could be called a work of art.

At this time, Hu Xiaobing beside him finally came to his senses, his grandfather actually surrendered, this old man who had been stubborn for most of his life and refused to accept others in any field, unexpectedly surrendered.

Looking at the mural made of swords in front of him, Hu Xiaobing hesitated for a moment, and said, "The words of the Taoist priest, the little Taoist priest, obviously don't match the temperament of this calligraphy and painting. Why do you admire it so much, grandpa?"

The so-called calligraphy, painting and calligraphy can only be called real calligraphy if the content itself is consistent. Otherwise, if the disparate temperament is mixed together, it will be neither fish nor fowl.

"Drinking alone under the moon this month clearly describes the poet's inner misery and desolation, but you wrote it in a chic and unrestrained way. Is this really good?" Hu Xiaobing looked at Li Yun and couldn't help but said.

Whether it is a miracle with a sword as a pen or how to drop it, after all, content is king
Li Yun didn't answer Hu Xiaobing, but just looked at Hu Sheng and said with a smile: "Layman, you have realized it."

"Although drinking alone under the moon seems to be about the poet's sad and desolate state of mind and taste." Hu Sheng turned his head and said, "But this poem, at its root, is the poet's longing for his friends to Drink a pot of wine with yourself, instead of drinking with the moonlight like now, is that right? Xiaodaochang. Write this poem with words of infinite nostalgia, which fits the poet's style of writing."

"Great layman." Li Yun nodded. Hu Sheng could see all the meaning between the lines, but this word has another meaning, that is, this word is used to wake up Hu Sheng.

"What kind of talent can I be?" Hu Sheng smiled wryly, shook his head and sighed, and muttered to himself: "This poet has no chance. He drinks alone in his spare time. He doesn't want to be separated from his friends, but he has to obey the reality. As for me, I am rejecting myself, rejecting my friends with ridiculous aloofness."

In order not to affect the so-called calligraphy skills, in order not to let my calligraphy change with the change of mood, I made all kinds of ridiculous decisions.
After a long time, Hu Sheng looked at Li Yun and said, "Xiao Daoist, are you really at ease?"

"I have shackles, responsibilities, and people and things to accompany me." Li Yun sighed with emotion, thinking of many things, and then said: "But I am truly chic."

The real Xiaoxiao is unrestrained, even with the so-called responsibility on his back, he is still unrestrained
Hu Sheng didn't speak, just stood there with a cane.

Li Yun left, leaving alone, Hu Xiaobing and Xiao Fang didn't keep him, because they didn't even see how the person disappeared, but there was a tail feather of a white crane on the spot——

Gently come, gently leave, go and stay without a trace.

When Hu Sheng figured everything out, he realized that the person had already left, and the tea left on the coffee table had been completely drunk.
Hu Sheng smiled, and bowed lightly to the empty teacup, from the bottom of his heart.

"Thank you, Master Xiaodao."

"How did he leave? I didn't even see him," Xiao Fang muttered to himself, but was interrupted by Hu Sheng.

At this time, Hu Sheng said to Xiao Fang: "Go, prepare the car, let's go out."

"Where are you going, grandpa, are you going to the Sanqing Temple of Xiangtou Mountain?" Hu Xiaobing asked, thinking that his grandfather should go to the Sanqing Temple of Xiangtou Mountain. After all, seeing such a miraculous thing, he naturally wanted to explore some.

Hu Sheng shook his head.

"Let's not go to Xiangtou Mountain, but to Xiangtou Village."

"Why are you going there?" Hu Xiaobing asked suspiciously.

"To meet my friends, my real friends."

Hu Sheng walked out of the gate with a cane, his body looked weak, but he was stronger than usual
Back in Xiangtou Mountain Village again, Hu Sheng looked at the small building in front of him that said "Lao Yang's House".
dong dong dong-

There was a knock on the door.

"Who?"

"I... your old friend, Hu Sheng."

The sound of footsteps inside the door stopped for a few moments, and then the door opened, and there appeared a somewhat hunched Village Chief Yang with presbyopic glasses on his face. This scene reminded Hu Sheng of the past, when there were no presbyopia, The figure is still so thin, that little young man who likes to read books.

Standing blankly in front of the door, it seems to have returned to the past, inside the dilapidated wooden dormitory door, two young people
How similar it is now.

"Old Hu," said Village Chief Yang with a complicated expression, but was interrupted by Hu Sheng.

"Are you still playing chess? I'm going to kill all of you."

Village Chief Yang froze for a moment, then smiled.

"Oh that's fine."

(End of this chapter)