This immortal is a bit fierce

Huang Feng was stunned when the scroll was unfolded. He thought that the painting by Gong Yangyong must be full of atmosphere.

Entering the Tao through painting, after thousands of years, with a single drop of ink, the big demon with the blood of the demon king was unable to resist, and a white scroll sealed it inside.

It is not surprising that a painting can depict all kinds of things in the world and draw a path to heaven and immortality.

Huang Feng reluctantly agreed. After all, Zhuge Wenyu seemed very stubborn, and Gong Yangyong happened to be willing to help, so why not give it a try.

But I didn't expect that the painting did not contain the lonely smoke in the desert, the sunset over the long river, nor was it full of prosperity, drunkenness and noise. Instead, it was a painting of a woman.

This woman is dressed in green clothes, holding a round fan, smiling sweetly, her eyes are as tender as water, and she has a thousand-year-old look.

Huang Feng was speechless for a moment. Gong Yangyong is so old, but he still likes to draw beauties?

Thinking about it, he felt something was wrong, so he asked carefully: "Senior, is there any story behind this painting?"

"I thought you wouldn't ask." Gong Yangyong said, "But if you listen to my story and you can't compose a poem, I will ask you!"

Huang Feng said quickly: "How about you stop talking?"

Gong Yangyong snorted: "If you dare to compose a random song, I won't let you go."

"Aren't you being too difficult?"

"If you satisfy me, I will help you embarrass him." Gong Yangyong pointed at Zhuge Wenyu.

Zhuge Wenyu smiled bitterly and shook his head, reminding Huang Feng: "The poem in this painting is not that easy to write."

Huang Feng could only nod his head: "Okay, senior, you speak, junior is all ears."

Gong Yangyong then said: "The painting is my wife, we are childhood sweethearts. She likes to read and write poems, and I like to paint."

When I was sixteen, I secretly drew a portrait of her and showed it to her, expressing my feelings to her and hoping that she would marry me.

She disliked the ugly way I painted her, but she still accepted my intention and was willing to marry me.

Our two families were well off, and no one objected at the time, so we followed the rules of 'Three Letters and Six Etiquette' and married her to a matchmaker.

We don’t have any lofty ambitions. We just hope to be able to recite poems and paint, have children, and have a peaceful and carefree life.

Although painters could be considered scholars at that time, their status was not high and they were far less respected than famous poets. She often said that when she became famous, she would add poems to my paintings. Famous paintings should be paired with good poems to complement each other.

But the poems she wrote were never shown to others. How could she become famous? "

Having said this, a smile appeared on Gong Yangyong's face, as if he was nostalgic, and then his mood suddenly dropped: "It's a pity that good times are always so short. We have only been married for two years, and she contracted a serious disease. I visited famous doctors all over, and all the Unable to cure her, it took two years before she passed away.

After we got married, I tried to draw her several times, but she refused.

She still thought my paintings were ugly and said that she would only let me paint when I got better at painting.

It's a pity that she didn't tell the truth until she was extremely ill and dying. She said she regretted not letting me paint her again. In fact, she didn't dislike the ugly appearance, but she was shy because I always said that I should pair her portraits with a good song. The poem was hung in the room. She said she was thin-skinned and couldn't bear it.

I wanted to paint her at that time, but she refused. She thought she was too pale and thin at that time, and she didn't want the image she left me in the painting to be like this. She said that when I become a great painter in the future, Then draw her most beautiful appearance in memory.

Since then, I have worked hard and painted every day, but I never dared to paint her, for fear that the painting would not be good, for fear that the image of her in my memory would not be her most beautiful appearance.

The world only knows that once I achieved enlightenment, I painted egrets climbing into the sky, but they don’t know my state of mind at that time. Because I knew I was about to die, I finally let go of my timidity. I originally wanted to draw her likeness with my arms closed before my eyes. Sleeping.

It can only be said that fate has its way with people. From that day on, I started to paint this painting. But I didn't expect that it would take a thousand years to paint this painting to the satisfaction. "

Zhuge Wenyu then spoke: "Who dares to compose a poem for your painting easily?"

After Gong Yangyong finished telling his story, he glanced at Zhuge Wenyu without too much sadness: "That's because you don't have the ability."

After finishing speaking, he stared at Huang Feng: "How about it? After listening to the story, the poem is up to you?"

"Senior, you think too highly of me." Huang Feng was speechless. He never thought that this painting was so precious, and he hurriedly searched for it.

After thinking for a long time, I could only think of one song that was quite appropriate. I wonder if Gong Yangyong would be satisfied with it.

"Bai Wuyi is a scholar, and I also think Mr. Zhuge is too useless." Gong Yangyong looked at Zhuge Wenyu, and then said to Huang Feng, "You are not a scholar, give me some use!"

"..." Huang Feng twitched the corner of his mouth slightly and said bravely, "Then let me try?"

This time it was Gong Yangyong's turn to be surprised. He was originally teasing. If Huang Feng needed to think about it or was really unable to do it, he would not really embarrass him.

It was only the poem in the mid-level pavilion just now that was so stunning that he was willing to give Huang Feng a chance with this painting.

But you thought about it so quickly?

Zhuge Wenyu didn't dare to write for a whole day. Huang Feng's current performance was really perfunctory. Gongyang Yong said in a deep voice: "You can think about it before you speak."

Huang Feng nodded: "Senior, don't worry, I don't dare to play tricks."

"Okay." Gong Yangyong nodded.

Li Motang, Li Yixuan and Xiao Nuan were a little nervous. After hearing the story and knowing the importance of this painting to Gong Yangyong, they were afraid that Huang Feng's poem was not done well and would cause trouble.

Li Motang wanted to send a message to Huang Feng several times in her heart to ask him to give up, but for some reason, there was a trace of trust in her heart that she didn't know where it came from, which stopped her.

In this situation, how could Huang Feng dare to neglect and recite the Tao seriously.

"There was a time when it was difficult to find water in the sea,

Except Wushan is not a cloud.

Take a lazy look back at the flowers,

Half is destined to practice Taoism and half is destined to be a king. "

After hearing the first two sentences, Zhuge Wenyu's eyes lit up, while Gong Yangyong was slightly startled by the last two sentences.

"I looked back lazily after taking a flower bush, half destined to practice Taoism and half destined to be a king..." He devoted his whole life to painting, and the rest of his thoughts were all about her. After repeating it several times, Gong Yangyong actually had a tear stain in the corner of his eye.

Huang Feng was muttering in his heart at this moment: "Don't ask me where Wushan is, just think of it as a beautiful mountain."

No one really asked.

"Are you satisfied, senior?" Huang Feng asked carefully.

Gong Yangyong immediately said: "That's it, will you write it?"

"Ah? My handwriting is ugly." Huang Feng quickly gave up. His handwriting was actually not bad, but it was far from worthy of the painting in front of him. How dare he be so bad.

"I'll do it." Zhuge Wenyu smiled, opened his hand and said, "I'll take care of you with pen and ink."

A pen fell into his hand and the inkstone fell on the table.

He dipped his pen in ink, and the words fell on the paper line by line. His facial muscles and willow bones penetrated into the wood. After finishing it in one breath, he remembered that he had not written the title and asked: "What is the name of this poem?"

Huang Feng carefully answered: ""Lisi"."

Zhuge Wenyu nodded and started writing.

Who would have thought that after the poem was completed, a strange phenomenon suddenly appeared in the whole painting, and the beauty stepped out of the painting and floated away.