Becoming a Saint by Leisure Reading

Vol 3 Chapter 172: Yan Ti Liu Ying

"I use idle books to become a saint (!

The cold wind is like a knife.

Han Qingzhu, Prime Minister of the Great Mystery, had a gleam of blue light in his eyes. He stood on the observation deck of Wanren Mountain, and frowned slightly as he looked at the blood that rose into the sky in the distance and was not blown away by the gust of wind.

"The barbarians have increased their troops again."

Han Qingzhu's voice fell, and a figure appeared behind him. The man was tall and thin, and a long white Confucian robe wafted in the wind, making noises. His cheekbones are high, and his face is cut like an axe. He looks about fifty years old, but his hair is slightly white, and the sparse stubble exudes mature vicissitudes, but his eyes are full of breathtaking light.

Zhenxuansi, the king of the north.

Xin Qiji!

When Xin Qiji heard Han Qingzhu's words, he said lightly, "There is news from Lang Feixian that this time the actions of the barbarians are suspected to be related to the Mantian Temple, but he is still investigating the specific matter."

Han Qingzhu let out a long sigh: "Lush frost, hard ice is coming."

Xin Qiji nodded, and looked at the cloud of blood in the distance.

"Only war!"

...

Zhongjing.

There is no blood in the North, nor can you hear the strange howls of the barbarians on the barbarian plains, the street is still a bustling scene.

Vendors worked desperately to add firewood to the stove, as if a bigger fire in the stove would drive away the chill from the streets.

Xingzao teahouses everywhere have already started the story of today's "The Legend of the Condor Heroes". At this time, all the five masterpieces in the book appeared, and it was serialized to Peach Blossom Island. At this moment, the teahouses everywhere wanted to talk about how Huang Rong in the Iron Spear Temple broke through Ouyang Feng's tricks step by step and returned his innocence, so it became even more popular.

Chen Luo fell asleep in the carriage and went back to sleep. He must sit next to Chen Luo's lap with Xiao Qi who came out, hammering hard, looking at Ye Dafu for a while with envy.

"Xiao Qi, Fat Grandpa's shoulders are quite sore. Come and give Fat Grandpa a pinch."

Xiao Qiyi spread his hands: "A piece of Tiandao crystal, one hour."

Ye Dafu's heart trembled, is this a massage? This is blatant robbery!

Can't afford to consume.

"One hundred twenty one hour, how is it?" Ye Dafu tried to fool Xiao Qi.

"One hundred taels is my eldest sister's price. I'll go back and tell her."

Ye Dafu instantly remembered the little girl in red who was pulling the weeping willow upside down and carrying a large grinding plate, and quickly shook his head.

Forget it, the fat grandpa's body can't bear it.

Chen Luo opened his eyes and squinted at Ye Dafu: "Dafu, does that Yan family really mean what they say? If I restore the power of the "Diaosou Tu" by writing a poem, will it be given to me?"

"You won't regret it temporarily, right?"

Ye Dafu shook his head quickly: "No, no, the reputation of Yan Sheng's family is still reliable."

"The old man in "Diaosou Tu" is a self-portrait of Yan Sheng, and its power, in addition to Yan Sheng's paintings, also comes from Liu Wenzong's poems. The combination of poetry and painting has such power. The Yan and Liu families take turns holding them."

"Yan Sheng and Liu Wenzong met for half a lifetime. At that time, someone joked that 'Yan does not leave Liu, Liu does not leave Yan', "Yan's body and Liu Ying". Later, Yan Sheng fell into the trap of barbarians in order to help Liu Wenzong canonize, which led to the fall of the saint. . "The Old Man of Fishing" was also defiled in that battle."

"Liu Wenzong threw the painting back to the Yan family with his last breath. The Liu family then proposed to give up the ownership of "Diaosou Tu" three times, but the Yan family refused three times."

"The Yan family is still sparing no effort to restore Liu Wenzong's poetry."

"The Yan family's words are that Yan and Liu are one, and there is no Liu without Yan."

"Later, the Liu family went to disaster in a brutal disaster, and the Yan family was even more reluctant to monopolize this "Diaosou Tu", so it was advertised all over the world, and anyone who could restore the "Diaosou Tu" gave it as a gift."

"So, as long as you can write a poem comparable to Liu Wenzong, you can take that half-sacred treasure."

Chen Luo nodded slightly, saying this, the Yan family would rather give up a half-sacred Wenbao than leave a little point of criticism in the description of the Yanliu family.

As expected of a family of saints.

"But, aren't there other great scholars or semi-sages who are tempted?" Chen Luo asked.

In this world, there are characters like Li Bai, Su Dongpo, Li Qingzhao, and Liu Sanbian. He really doesn't believe that the "Diaosou Tu" has never been able to find a matching poem, waiting for him to find out.

"It's not that there is no half-sage ending, but the strange thing is that at most, the "Diaosou Tu" can only be raised to the level of a great scholar's literary treasure."

"It is said that there was a half-sage who was halfway into writing, and suddenly said 'Yan Ti Liuying', put down the pen, and left directly."

"Since then, no half-sage has attempted to complete it again."

After Chen Luo heard this, he was stunned, this is clearly a hole in it!

Hey, forget it, the big deal is that I can't write it down. Anyway, the lost registration fee was paid by Ye Dafu.

Well, thinking about it like this makes me feel a lot calmer.

Called out early in the morning, make up for sleep first!

...

Fifty miles south of the city, there is a Danqing Village, which is the other courtyard of the Yan Sheng family.

Poems will be held here.

At this time, in Danqing Village, in addition to the head of the Yan Sheng family and several foreigners, there were also many great scholars who were invited to witness.

"Blacksmith Yan, do the people who came to write poems today like it?" A great Confucian asked the head of the Yan family. The head of the Yan family, whose real name is Yan Tianbing, is the best at painting various weapons. He often unfolds the picture scroll, and suddenly there is a golden horse and a thousand arrows in the picture scroll, so he is also nicknamed "Yan Blacksmith" by his friends.

"Wan Anbo Chen Luo will also come today." Yan Tianbing said with a smile, "I think he should be able to pass the first-level test."

"Chen Luo?" A great Confucian heard the words, showing a look of surprise, "Yeah, your Yan family should have asked Chen Luo to come over and try."

The person who spoke was none other than Leng Hanbing, the Confucian scholar of Wenchang Pavilion who was protecting Zhaixinglou that day.

Yan Tianbing smiled lightly: "You old man, don't think that the old man doesn't know, the "Jianghu Xing" written by Wan Anbo hangs in your house, and people visit it every day, you will naturally say that he is a hundred good. "

"It's not me, he is really good! In my opinion, after Su Poxian, Chen Luodang is the first in poetry, lyrics and music." Leng Hanbing said.

"Brother Leng is exaggerating." Another great Confucian interjected, "The article is born in nature, and it happens by chance. Then Chen Luo did write a few wonderful poems, and the poems can overwhelm the contemporary age. But after all, he is young, maybe where It takes only one day to think about exhaustion. 'It takes three days to burn the jade, and it takes seven years to distinguish the material'."

"It's only been a few months. It's too early to talk about number one."

Leng Hanbing glanced at the other party, this person was none other than the great scholar in the main hall, Qi Kexiu.

I heard that this Qi Kexiu was beaten by Chen Luo's fourth senior brother, it seems that the rumor is true.

"In that case, Qi Daru, how about we make a bet?" Leng Hanbing said directly, disdainfully arguing with him.

Qi Kexiu frowned: "What are you betting on?"

Leng Hanbing stretched out his hand, a ray of light flickered on his hand, and a small bracelet like ice jade appeared.

"This is my Great Confucianism Wenbao Han Xuehuan, how about using it to bet against Your Excellency's Great Confucian Wenbao?"

"Let's bet on Chen Luo today, whether there are any handed down poems published!" Leng Hanbing smiled lightly. To be honest, he was full of inexplicable confidence in Chen Luo.

This kind of confidence, those who have not seen Chen Luokai's poetry and Taoism with their own eyes will never understand.

Bet on Chen Luo, and you will reap the rewards!

Believe in Chen Luo, you are in control!

Qi Kexiu was startled, he just subconsciously sighed, didn't expect Leng Hanbing to be so rigid?

Are all the Confucian scholars in Wenchang Pavilion so bachelor?

But at this time, with the appearance of the cold snow ring, the pressure of a great scholar Wenbao dissipated, and immediately attracted the attention of all the great scholars present.

Qi Kexiu gritted his teeth, blushed, and said, "What is it to write a poem at will, let's bet whether Chen Luo can take "Diaosou Tu" away today!"

After Qi Kexiu finished speaking, it was also a storage bag that he carried with him.

"Interesting, interesting!" Before Leng Hanbing could speak, Sima Lie suddenly appeared, shaking his wrist, holding a crystal clear fruit in his hand.

"The old man's Spring and Autumn Pen has to be kept for writing history books, so it can't be used for gambling, but this Jiaziguo is also a bit valuable. The half-sage can take three pieces in his life, and each piece can prolong his life by 20 years, which is equivalent to a great scholar's literary treasure. It should be fine. The old man bet on Chen Luo's victory."

Leng Han gave Sima Lie a white look, what are you following along, I plan to win the bet.

At this moment, another cold voice came over: "A complete hide of a barbarian beast in the third-rank barbarian king realm, I bet that Chen Luo will fail."

Everyone turned their heads to look, it was a great scholar with a raw face, but Sima Lie changed his mind slightly and recognized it. The other party was the disciple of Fang Huaji, the old Fang Clan of Mozhou, who was a great scholar with three qualities.

"Why is it so lively?" Yan Tianbing entertained him for a while, walked over, and said with a smile, "It's impossible for me, the host, to not participate in such a game."

"That's it, the Yan family's ink plum blossoms."

"My Yan family invites someone to write a poem. Naturally, I have to be a little sincere. I'll bet that Chen Luo can succeed."

"If Chen Luo succeeds, this ink plum blossom will be given to Chen Luo, and if Chen Luo fails, it will be given to Brother Qi and Brother Lin, how?"

Qi Kexiu: "The old man has no opinion"

Lin Zhiye also nodded: "Yes!"

At this time, the housekeeper ran in and said a few words to Yan Tianbing. Yan Tianbing smiled at everyone: "Everyone is here, we can start..."

...

Chen Luo sat on the seat, took a sip of tea from the teacup.

He didn't expect that it was just a poem, why so many people came?

When Leng Bingbing passed him, he gave himself a wink!

It looks like we have a tacit understanding.

And that old man Sima Lie, why is he everywhere?

Are all history writers so busy?

Then Chen Luo turned his gaze to his side again. There were five people beside him, including Confucian scholars and masters. It is also this time that I came to participate in the poem.

In Ye Dafu's words, he was taken advantage of.

Ye Dafu is different, it is called reasonable investment.

"Everyone is willing to come and complete the poems for "Diaosou Tu", Yan Mou is very grateful on behalf of Yan." Yan Tianbing bowed his hands to Chen Luo and others, and Chen Luo and others hurriedly returned the salute.

Then Yan Tianbing said: "But before I write the "Diaosou Tu", I have one more step."

After speaking, Yan Tianbing clapped his hands, and a Yan family child walked into the hall holding a picture scroll. The Yan family child opened the picture scroll and saw that there was a pavilion on the picture scroll, and a woman was sitting on the pavilion, looking at the distant screen.

"This is a great Confucian painting "Spring Boudoir". "Drawing Old Man" was stained with blood by barbarians. In order to prevent you from being hurt, please write a poem on this painting first to get the protection of the painting soul."

Chen Luo naturally knew this process from Ye Dafu before.

Since there is a soul of poetry, there is naturally a soul of painting. According to Ye Dafu, if the great Confucian and the following wanted to complete the "Diaosou Tu", they would be impacted by the power of blood. Therefore, first write a poem on a painting of a great Confucianism, and temporarily obtain the protection of the painting soul in the painting, which can block the power of blood.

Of course, this also contains the meaning of comparison. If the poems and prose are not recognized by the great Confucian paintings, then don't think about writing poems and half-sage paintings.

Basically, as long as the person in the painting moves after the poem is written, such as nodding his head or giving a salute, even if he succeeds, this is often an elegant play among literati.

...

"It's the "Spring Boudoir", it's easy." A great Confucian commented, "This kind of painting, as long as the feeling of missing is written, it can be echoed by the soul of the painting."

"It's not and it's not." A Confucian shook his head, "The old man knows that this painting was made by the great Confucian Yan Liben of the Yan family. It is one of the paintings most often used to pave the way for "Diaosou Tu". The poems about it are not counted. In addition, the requirements for painting the soul are also much stricter."

"If it weren't for the handed down poetry, the painting soul would not react."

Hearing this great Confucian's explanation, some people who are not familiar with it understand the mystery.

At this moment, Qi Kexiu turned his head and looked at Leng Hanbing who was sitting across from him, and said through a voice transmission: "Leng Daru, do you want to bet more? The old man used "Quick Snow and Clear Post" to bet your "Jianghu Xing" , how about betting on whether the painting soul will come out to worship each other?"

Leng Hanbing frowned slightly.

The painting soul recognizes it, and nodding and salute is the first floor; paying homage, it is the second floor; if the painting soul escapes the scenery in the painting and comes to pay homage in front of the painting, it is the third floor.

Qi Kexiu was betting on whether Chen Luo's poem could make the painting soul pay homage in front of the painting.

Leng Bing snorted.

You don't know anything about Wan Amber's strength.

Leng Bingbing nodded: "Betting!"

...

"Poems inscribed on such paintings, Wang Shaobo once had excellent works." A great scholar pinched his beard.

"The young woman in the boudoir doesn't know her worries, she puts on makeup and goes to the Jade Tower in spring."

"The branches on the Mo are willow-colored, and I regret teaching my husband and son-in-law to find a marquis."

"When a poem comes out, it is also a good story to visit before the painting of the soul."

Sima Lie shook his head slightly: "If you want to trace it back, the most outstanding poem of this type is Li Qinglian's—"

"Beauty rolls the beaded curtain, sits upright and frowns."

"But seeing the tears wet, I don't know who I hate."

"It's very, very, very good, but Li Qinglian's poem is so well written, and the person who resented the painting soul became Li Qinglian, so she turned around and turned her back to Li Qinglian, but she achieved a famous painting "Bad Heart Li Qinglian"!"

"Hahahaha..." All of a sudden everyone laughed.

...

During the discussion between the great Confucians, other people also came forward and finished writing poems. Among them, only one of the Master's poems made the beauty in the painting look at him sideways, and nodded lightly, which was regarded as approval, and everyone else left the scene sadly.

In a blink of an eye, Chen Luo was the last person left.

It's not that Chen Luo was interested in the finale, the main reason was that the other party seemed to know about this great Confucian painting, so he was well prepared and left him at the end.

Chen Luo stood up and walked to the painting. At this time, the poems he had written before had been erased, leaving a blank space for the inscription.

Chen Luo looked at the painting again. The woman in the painting looked at the sky through the window of the pavilion, her brows furrowed. Outside the terrace, it was drizzling.

Seeing Chen Luo pick up the pen, all the great Confucians stopped joking and chatting, and their eyes were all focused on Chen Luo.

Qi Kexiu clenched his fists and stared at Leng Hanbingyuan.

Sima Lie squeezed his beard and squinted, while Lin Zhiye frowned and watched coldly.

Only Yan Tianbing sat aside with a smile, as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him.

Chen Luo took a deep breath and wrote—

"The rain hit the pear blossoms and closed the door, forgetting the youth, missing the youth."

"Who's in charge of having fun? Ecstasy under the flowers, and ecstasy under the moon."

"Sorrow gathers the eyebrows and frowns all day, thousands of sobs, 10,000 sobs."

"Look at the sky in the morning and the clouds at dusk, think about the king when you walk, think about the king when you sit."

After the poem was written, the whole room was silent.

I saw that the person in the painting slowly turned his head and looked at Chen Luo.

Afterwards, the beautiful woman in the painting turned around, got down from the pavilion, walked out despite the wind and rain, pushed open the courtyard door, and walked all the way to the front of the painting.

Qi Kexiu was shocked and shouted in his heart: "No! No!"

Leng Hanbing smiled slightly: "Fast Snow and Clear Post", here it is!

But just when everyone thought that the person in the painting was going to worship each other in front of the painting, the person in the painting kept walking, and when he lifted his leg, he walked down from the painting and turned into a delicate and beautiful woman.

In an instant, the black and white turned into full of color, and a faint fragrance filled the hall.

Lively and fragrant.

The person in the painting greeted Chen Luoying with a blessing ceremony, with a three-point sadness and three-point surprise in his tone: "Lang Jun, I have missed you for a long time."

Yan Tianbing patted his forehead: It's over.

You may not believe it if you paint big or not.

Your paintings are not yours anymore.

...

After a lot of fun, the matter was finally resolved satisfactorily.

Yan Tianbing gave this pair of "Spring Girl" to Chen Luo on the spot.

In fact, although the woman in the painting walked out of the painting, she was actually still a phantom, and her body was still the painting.

True holographic red sleeves add fragrance.

However, everyone couldn't help but raise their expectations for Chen Luo's next performance, and even Yan Tianbing had a glimmer of hope in his heart.

"Next, it's the "Drawing Old Man Picture"." Yan Tianbing said to Chen Luo and another person who passed the test.

The man smiled bitterly, knowing that he was running with him this time, he waved his hand embarrassedly, and withdrew from the poem titled "Diaosou Tu", which was not surprising to everyone.

Yan Tianbing patted the storage bag, and suddenly a scroll appeared. Everyone looked at the scroll, as if seeing blood dripping down from the scroll, making people dizzy.

The blood-stained power of the barbarian god.

The painting girl lifted her legs and walked into Chen Luo's body instantly, and Chen Luo's mind suddenly became clear. Looking at the scroll again, there was nothing different about the scroll.

Seeing that Chen Luo was back to normal, Yan Tianbing nodded and slowly opened the picture scroll.

According to Ye Dafu's description, the original fishing old man's picture should be a picture of fishing alone on a snowy night. In the dark night, Qianshan was covered with snow, and the world was vast.

On the cold river, there is only an old man wearing a hat, with a pot of old wine beside him, holding a fishing rod in his hand, fishing for Jiang Xue at night.

It's no wonder that there is a poem titled "Thousands of mountains and birds fly away, thousands of people disappear, and a lonely boat is a dwarf man, fishing alone in the cold river and snow".

It is this sense of silence in winter that created the semi-sacred Wenbao power of "Diaosou Tu".

But now, what Chen Luo saw was a completely different painting.

The snow and ice had long since dissipated, and the green hills were faintly visible in the distance. A sunset in the sky shone on the old man who was alone, and the whole painting revealed a sense of twilight.

That sunset is the blood of the barbarian gods. That barbarian blood turned into a sunset, which shattered the murderous intentions of the night, melted the ice and snow, and turned the entire painting into a picture of the late autumn and sunset, thus completely transforming a semi-saint text treasure. contamination.

Chen Luo looked at the picture of fishing old man and pondered slightly.

What kind of poem should I title?

Chen Luo pondered for a moment and lifted the pen.

"One Mino, One Cap, One Flat Boat,"

"One meter of silk and one inch of hook."

"One song and one bottle of wine,"

"A person fishing a river autumn alone."

It's just that when the word "Autumn" was half-written, Chen Luo stopped writing.

"No, I seem to have overlooked something." Chen Luo frowned, and everyone looked at the poem Chen Luo wrote.

"The last word of this poem should be the word for autumn, right?" said a great Confucian.

"That's right, one person is fishing for a river of autumn." A great Confucian said immediately, "As expected of Wan Anbo, nine words are embedded in the poem, and in the end, it is not autumn, but a river of autumn, handsome, but lonely. "

"It's a perfect match for the smeared "Diaosou Tu". Just why did Wan Anbo stop writing?"

Sima Lie sighed: "This poem is excellent, but it doesn't have the power of Liu Wenzong's poem. If it is finished, it will be at the level of a great Confucian scholar."

Qi Kexiu breathed a sigh of relief and said with a smile, "I've said it before, Wan Anbo's poetry is extraordinary, but if you want to restore "Diaosou Tu", it's still not enough! Brother Leng, thank you in advance. Great Confucianism!"

Although he lost "Kai Xue Qing Shi Tie", he still made a lot of money to get a great Confucian treasure.

Leng Binghan snorted: "It's not over yet, you don't have to come to a conclusion."

Qi Kexiu shook his head slightly: "Then let's wait, let's see how Chen Luo can turn things around."

...

At this time, Chen Luo's mind was spinning rapidly. He recalled the past events of "Diaosou Tu" that Ye Dafu and himself had said, especially the half-sage's sentence "Yan Ti Liu Ying".

He looked at the painting again, and at this time he took a closer look, and found that there was a faint black shadow under the old man.

It's a shadow!

The original version of "Diaosou Tu" is a night scene, and there is no shadow.

In the current version, if the shadow of the **** sunset, it could not be from such an angle.

Chen Luo suddenly thought that Ye Dafu had said that it was Liu Wenzong who used his last breath to throw this picture across thousands of miles and threw it back to Yan's house.

"Yan does not leave Liu, Liu does not leave Yan!"

"Yan Ti Liuying!"

Chen Luo's heart moved, and a poem suddenly appeared in his mind.

Chen Luo waved his hand and directly erased the poem "Nine One Fishing Old Man".

"What is Wan Anbo doing?" A great Confucian frowned, "Do you want to redo a song?"

"That one just now was also a rare masterpiece. The new poem may not be as good as the original!"

There was a lot of discussion among the Confucian scholars present, and even Yan Tianbing frowned slightly. Logically, one person can only write one poem at a time, but just now Chen Luo did not finish the last word of the poem. Inside.

I don't know what new poem he's going to write.

Confused by Chen Luo's actions, all eyes held their breath and fell on the tip of Chen Luo's pen.

At this time, Chen Luo had a plan in his mind, and wrote with a pen—

The rolling waters of the Yangtze River to the east,

The waves wash away the heroes.

Success or failure turns empty,

The green hills are still there,

Several times the sunset red.

On the river Nagisa, the white-haired fisherman,

I used to watch the autumn moon and spring breeze.

A pot of turbid wine rejoices to meet,

How many things have happened in the past and present,

It's all a joke!

...

Before everyone could realize this time, everyone suddenly discovered that the remaining shadow of the old man was gradually elongated, and it seemed to turn into a figure completely different from that of the old man.

I saw the shadow stand up from the boat and sat opposite the old man. Between the two, it happened to be the pot of old wine.

"A pot of turbid wine is happy to meet!" Yan Tianbing's eyes suddenly became sour, "Yan Ti Liuying, Yan Ti Liuying, Liu Shi no longer, but Yan Liu will always meet!"

"So it is, so it is!"

Everyone also understood at this time~www.wuxiamtl.com~ No wonder even the half-sage couldn't restore the power of the half-sage Wenbao in "Diaosou Tu". It turned out that Yan Liu had to appear again.

Confidants are hard to find, life and death will not give up!

"No, no!" Qi Kexiu said suddenly, "This Wenbao has not been restored to the semi-sacred..."

It's just that before Qi Kexiu's words fell, a dignified aura suddenly swept out from the "Diaosou Tu" upload, and the majestic holy prestige descended, and all the great Confucians were shocked.

Only Sima Lie stood up abruptly, with an incredible look in his eyes, looking at the picture of the old man, he was shocked—

"Year...the power of years!"

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