I Use Idle Books To Become Saint

The cold wind is like a knife.

Han Qingzhu's eyes flickered with blue light, and he stood on the observation deck of Wanren Mountain, looking at Blood Qi soaring into the sky far away and not being blown away by the strong wind, and frowned slightly.

"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 he was wearing a washed-white Confucian long robe fluttering in the wind, making a sound of hunting. His cheekbones are high, his face is as sharp as an ax chiseling knife, revealing his masculinity and indifference, giving people a sense of calmness and prestige. He looks about fifty years old, but his hair is slightly gray, and his sparse stubble exudes mature vicissitudes, but his eyes reveal a soul-stirring light.

Zhen Xuansi, King of the North.

Xin Qiji!

Xin Qiji heard Han Qingzhu's words, and said lightly: "Lang Feixian has a message that this time the barbarian's actions are suspected to be related to the Mantian Palace, but he is still investigating the specific matter."

Han Qingzhu let out a long breath: "When you walk on the frost, it's as hard as ice."

Xin Qiji nodded, and also looked at the Blood Qi cloud in the distance.

"We only fight!"

...

Zhongjing.

You can't see the Blood Qi of the Northland here, and you can't hear the strange shouts of the barbarians on the barbarian plain. The street is still bustling and busy.

The peddlers are desperately adding firewood to the stove, it seems that as long as the fire in this stove is bigger, the chill on the street can be driven away.

The Xingzao teahouses everywhere have already started the narration of today's "Legend of the Condor Heroes". At this time, all the five unique characters in the book appear on the stage, and it is serialized to the great change of Peach Blossom Island, and the death of the four Jiangnan monsters. At this moment, all the teahouses wanted to talk about how Huang Rong in the Iron Spear Temple dismantled Ouyang Feng's trick step by step and cleared herself up, so it became even more popular.

Chen Luo fell asleep in the carriage and came back to the cage. Xiao Qi, who had to come out with him, sat beside Chen Luo's lap, hammering hard, and looked at Ye Dafu with envy.

"Little Seven, Fat Grandpa's shoulders are also quite sore, come and give Fat Grandpa a squeeze."

Xiao Qi spread his hands: "One piece of Heavenly Dao crystal, one hour."

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

Can't afford it.

"One hundred taels an hour, how about it?" Ye Dafu tried to fool Xiao Qi.

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

Ye Dafu instantly thought of the little girl in red with the weeping willow upside down and the big millstone in her hand, and shook his head quickly.

Forget it, the fat grandpa's body is too strong.

Chen Luo opened his eyes and squinted at Ye Dafu: "Dafu, that Yan family really keeps their word? If I write a poem that restores the power of "The Picture of the Old Man", will you give it to me?"

"You can't go back on your word at the moment, can you?"

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

"The fishing old man in "The Picture of Fishing the Old Man" is Yan Sheng's self-portrait. Its power comes not only from Yan Sheng's paintings, but also from Liu Wenzong's poems. The combination of poems and paintings has such power. Therefore, it has always been The Yan and Liu families take turns to hold it."

"Yan Sheng and Liu Wenzong have been friends for half their lives. At that time, some people joked that 'Yan will not leave the willow, Liu will not leave Yan', "Yan's body and willow shadow". Later, Yan Sheng fell into the trap of the barbarians to help Liu Wenzong become a saint, which led to the death of the saint. "The Picture of Fishing Old Men" was also defiled during that battle."

"Liu Wenzong threw this painting back to the Yan family with his last breath. The Liu family then proposed to give up the ownership of "The Picture of Fishing Old Man" three times, but was rejected by the Yan family three times."

"The Yan family is still trying their best to restore Liu Wenzong's poems."

"The words of the Yan family are that Yan and Liu are one, and there is no Yan without willows."

"Later, the Liu family died in a terrible disaster, and the Yan family was even more unwilling to monopolize this "Picture of Fishing Old Man", so they advertised to the world that anyone who can restore "Picture of Fishing Old Man" will give it as a gift."

"So, as long as you, Dage, can write poems comparable to Liu Wenzong, you can take away that semi-holy treasure."

Chen Luo nodded slightly. In other words, the Yan family would rather give up a pair of semi-sacred treasures than leave a little bit of criticism in the description of the friendship between the Yan and Liu families.

Really worthy of the Saint family.

"But, isn't there any other great Confucianism or semi-saint who is tempted?" Chen Luo asked.

There are people like Li Bai, Su Dongpo, Li Qingzhao, and Liu Sanbian in this world. He really couldn't believe that he couldn't find a matching poem for "The Picture of the Old Man", and he was just waiting for himself to find the leak.

"It's not that there will be a semi-sacred end, but the strange thing is that at most it can only raise the "Diagnostic Picture" to the level of a great Confucian treasure."

"It is said that there was a semi-sage who wrote halfway, and suddenly said 'Yan Ti Liu Ying', put down the pen, and left directly."

"Since then, no half-saint has tried to complete it."

After hearing this, Chen Luo was stunned, there was clearly a hole in it!

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

Well, thinking about it this way, I feel a lot calmer.

Called out early in the morning, to catch up on sleep first!

...

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

The poetry writing session will be held here.

In Danqing Village at this time, apart from the head of the Yan Sheng family and several elders, there are also many great Confucian scholars who have been invited to be witnesses.

"Tiejiang Yan, do you like the person who wrote the poem today?" A great Confucianist asked the head of the Yan family. The head of the Yan family, whose real name is Yan Tianbing, is best at drawing various weapons, and when he unfolds the scroll, the golden iron horse and the iron horse will immediately shoot ten thousand arrows, so he is nicknamed "Yan Tiejiang" 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 test."

"Chen Luo?" A great Confucianist revealed a dazed expression when he heard the words, "Yes, your Yan family should have invited Chen Luo over a long time ago."

The person who spoke was none other than Leng Hanbing, the great scholar of Wenchang Pavilion who guarded Zhaixing Tower that day.

Yan Tianbing smiled faintly: "You old man, don't think that the old man doesn't know that "Rivers and Lakes Tour" written by Wan Anbo hangs in your house, and people from Lira go to visit it every day, so you naturally say that he is a hundred good gone."

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

"Brother Leng is exaggerating." Another great Confucian interjected, "Articles are naturally made, and you can get them by chance. Then Chen Luo did write a few wonderful poems, and the poems can overwhelm the contemporary. But after all, young, maybe what It takes one day to exhaust your talents. '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 the number one."

Leng Hanbing glanced at the other party, this person is none other than Qi Kexiu, a great Confucian in the hall.

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

"In this case, Qi Daru, how about we make a bet?" Leng Hanbing said directly without bothering to argue with him.

Qi Kexiu frowned: "What bet?"

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

"This is my Great Confucianism Treasure, Hanxuehuan. How about using it to bet against Your Excellency's Great Confucianism Treasure?"

"Let's just gamble on whether Chen Luo has any poems handed down from ancient times!" Leng Hanbing smiled lightly. To be honest, he was full of inexplicable confidence in Chen Luo.

This kind of confidence, those who have not witnessed Chen Luo's poetry in the world of mortals, will never understand.

Bet on Chen Luo, and you will get something!

Trust Chen Luo, everything is under control!

Qi Kexiu was startled, just now he just subconsciously said hello, did not expect Leng Hanbing to be so bold?

Are all the Confucian scholars in Wenchang Pavilion so bachelor?

But at this time, as the ring of cold snow came out, a coercion of great Confucian cultural treasures spread, which immediately attracted the attention of all the great Confucians present.

Qi Kexiu gritted his teeth, blushed, and said, "What's the point of writing a random poem? Let's bet whether Chen Luo can take away "The Picture of Fishing Old Man" today!"

After Qi Kexiu finished speaking, he also wiped his carry-on storage bag, and held a big Confucian writing brush in his hand.

"Interesting, interesting!" Before Leng Hanbing could speak, Sima Lie suddenly appeared, with a flick of his wrist, holding a crystal clear fruit.

"I still need to keep my Spring and Autumn Pen to write history books, so I can't gamble with it, but this Jiazi fruit is worth a bit. You can take three of them in your lifetime, and each one can prolong your life by 20 years. It is equivalent to a great Confucian treasure. It should be no problem. The old man bet that Chen Luo can win."

Leng Han gave Sima Lie a blank look, why are you joining in the fun, I'm planning to win the bet with my family.

At this moment, another coldly voice came over: "The third rank barbarian king has a complete hide. I bet Chen Luo will fail."

Everyone turned their heads to look, and it was a great Confucian with a strange face, but Sima Lie recognized it after a slight turn of his mind. The other party was the disciple of Lao Fang Huaji of the Fang Clan in Mozhou, the third-rank Gewujing Confucian Zhiye.

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

"How about this, a plum blossom from the Yan family's Mo Qi."

"My Yan family invites someone to write a poem. Naturally, there must be some sincerity. I bet that Chen Luo can succeed."

"If Chen Luo succeeds, the ink plum blossom will be given to Chen Luo, if Chen Luo fails, then it will be handed over to Brother Qi and Brother Lin, how about it?"

Qi Kexiu: "I have no objection"

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, picked up the teacup and took a sip of tea.

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

When Leng Hanbing passed by own, he even blinked for himself!

It looks like we have a tacit understanding.

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

Are history writers so busy?

Then Chen Luo turned his gaze to the side. There were five people around him, including Confucian scholars and teachers. It was also this time that I came to participate in the poem writing.

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

Ye Dafu is different, it is called reasonable investment.

"Everyone is willing to write and complete poems for "The Picture of Fishing Old Men". On behalf of Yan family, Yan is very grateful." Yan Tianbing bowed his cupped hands to Chen Luo and others, and Chen Luo and others quickly returned the salute.

Then Yan Tianbing continued: "But before inscribing "The Picture of Fishing Old Man", we still have one more step."

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

"This is the Confucian painting "The Girl in Spring". "The Picture of Fishing the Old Man" was stained with the blood of a barbarian god. In order to avoid any damage to you, please write a poem for this painting first, so as to be protected by the soul of the painting."

Chen Luo naturally knew about 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 Confucians below want to complete "The Picture of the Old Man", they will be impacted by the power of blood. So first write a poem on a painting of a great Confucianist, and temporarily get the protection of the painting soul in the painting, which can block the power of blood stains.

Of course, there is also the meaning of comparison. If the poems and essays are not recognized by the paintings of great Confucianists, then don't think about inscribing poems and semi-sacred paintings.

Basically, as long as the person in the painting takes some action after inscribing the poem, such as nodding his head or saluting, it is considered successful. This is often an elegant way of playing among literati.

...

"It's "The Picture of a Girl in Spring", it's easy." A great Confucian commented, "In this kind of painting, as long as the feelings of longing are written, it can be echoed by the soul of the painting."

"No, no." A great scholar shook his head, "This old man knows that this painting was made by Yan Liben, a great scholar of the Yan family. It is one of the paintings most often used to pave the way for "The Picture of Fishing Old Men". The poems written by it are not counted. In addition, the requirements for painting the soul are also much more stringent."

"If it wasn't for the poems handed down from ancient times, then the painting soul would not respond."

Hearing this great Confucian's explanation, some people who don't understand it understand the mystery.

At this moment, Qi Kexiu turned his head, looked at Leng Hanbing who was sitting opposite, and said via voice transmission: "Master Leng, do you want to take another gamble? I bet on your article "Rivers and Lakes" with "Quick Snow and Sunny Post". How about betting on whether the painting soul will come out of the building to pay homage?"

Leng Hanbing frowned slightly.

The spirit of the painting recognizes it, among which nodding and saluting is the first level; the ceremony of paying homage is the second level; if the spirit of painting gets rid of the scenery in the painting and comes to worship in front of the painting, it is the third level.

Qi Kexiu's bet is whether Chen Luo's inscription can make the soul of the painting pay homage in front of the painting.

Leng Hanbing snorted.

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

Leng Hanbing nodded: "Gamble!"

...

"Wang Shaobo wrote poems on this kind of paintings back then." A great Confucian pinched his beard.

"The young woman in the boudoir doesn't know how to worry, she puts her makeup on in spring and goes to the emerald building."

"The willows on the branches of Moshang are the color of willows, and I repent to teach my husband and son-in-law to seek a title."

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

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

"The beauty rolls the beaded curtain, sits upright and frowns."

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

"Extremely, extremely, but Li Qinglian's poem is so well written that the person who painted the soul with resentment turned into Li Qinglian, so he turned around and turned his back on Li Qinglian, creating a famous painting "Breaking Li Qinglian"!"

"Hahahaha..." Everyone burst into laughter.

...

During the discussion of the Great Confucianism, other people also came forward to write poems one after another. 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 the others all left sadly.

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

Actually is not Chen Luo's intention to make the finale, mainly because 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 poem inscribed before that time had been erased, leaving a blank space for the inscription.

Chen Luo looked at the painting again. In the painting, the woman looked at the sky through the window of the pavilion, frowning. Outside the building, it was raining heavily.

Seeing Chen Luo picking up his pen, all the great Confucians stopped joking and talking, and all their eyes were on Chen Luo.

Qi Kexiu clenched his fists, his eyes widened coldly.

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 matter had nothing to do with him.

Chen Luo took a deep breath and wrote——

"The rain hits the pear blossoms and closes the door, forgetting youth, and missing youth."

"Who cares about pleasure? The soul is ecstasy under the flowers, and the soul is ecstasy under the moon."

"Sorrow gathers eyebrows to frown all day long, thousands of weeping marks, ten thousand weeping marks."

"Looking at the sky at dawn and looking at the clouds at dusk, thinking about you when you walk, and thinking about you when you sit."

After writing a poem, the whole room was silent.

The person in the painting turned his head slowly and looked at Chen Luo.

Afterwards, the beauty in the painting turned around, went down 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 startled, and shouted in his heart: "Don't! Don't!"

Leng Hanbing smiled slightly: "Quick Snow and Sunshine Post", here it is!

But just when everyone thought that the person in the painting was going to pay respects in front of the painting, the person in the painting kept walking, raised his leg, and walked down from the painting, turning into a delicate 28-year-old beauty.

The black and white in Setsuna's room suddenly filled with color, and a faint fragrance filled the hall.

Lively and fragrant.

The person in the painting greeted Chen Luo Yingying Fuli, with a three-point mournful and three-point surprise tone in his tone: "Mr., I have missed you for a long time."

Yan Tianbing patted his forehead: It's over.

If you don’t want to keep a large painting, Liben, you may not believe it.

Your painting does not belong to you anymore.

...

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

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

In fact, although the painted girl walked out of the painting, she was actually still a phantom, and her body was still that painting.

True holographic red sleeves add fragrance.

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

"The next step is "Fishing Old Man Picture"." Yan Tianbing said to Chen Luo and another person who passed the test.

The man smiled wryly, knowing that he was just running with him this time, he waved his hand in embarrassment, and withdrew from the inscription of "The Picture of Fishing Old Men", and everyone was not surprised.

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

The blood-stained power of the barbarian god.

The painting girl raised her leg and walked into Chen Luo's body in an instant, and Chen Luo's mind suddenly became clear. Looking at the scroll again, there was nothing unusual about the scroll.

Seeing that Chen Luo returned to normal, Yan Tianbing nodded and slowly unfolded the scroll.

According to Ye Dafu's description, the original picture of fishing old men should be a picture of fishing alone on a snowy night. In the dark night, thousands of mountains are covered with snow, and the world is vast.

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

It's no wonder that there are poems inscribed with "birds fly away in thousands of mountains, people disappear in thousands of paths, a man in a lonely boat, fishing for snow in the cold river alone".

It is precisely this sense of silence and killing in winter that creates the semi-sacred treasure power of "The Picture of Fishing Old Man".

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

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

The setting sun was the blood of the barbarian god. That barbaric blood turned into the setting sun, piercing the murderous intentions of the night, melting the ice and snow, and turning the whole painting into a picture of late autumn and sunset, thus completely transforming a semi-holy cultural treasure. pollution.

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

What poem should I write?

Chen Luo pondered for a moment and picked up his pen.

"One coir, one hat, one boat,"

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

"One song and one bottle of wine,"

"One person fishes one river autumn alone."

It's just that Chen Luo stopped writing the word "autumn" just halfway through.

"No, I seem to have overlooked something." Chen Luo frowned, and everyone was also looking at the poem written by Chen Luo.

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

"That's right, one person catches a river of autumn alone." Immediately, a great scholar said, "As expected of Wan Anbo, the nine characters are embedded in the poem, and what falls in the end is not autumn, but a river of autumn, chic but lonely. "

"It just perfectly matches the defiled "Fishing Old Man Picture". But why did Wan Amber stop writing?"

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

Qi Kexiu breathed a sigh of relief, and said with a smile: "I have already said that Wan Anbo's poetry is extraordinary, but it is still beyond his power to restore "The Picture of Fishing Old Men"! Brother Leng, thank you in advance Great Confucianism treasure!"

Although he lost the "Quick Snow and Clear Shitie", it was still a big profit to get a great Confucian treasure.

Leng Binghan snorted: "The matter is not over yet, don't draw conclusions on it."

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

...

At this time, Chen Luo's mind was running fast, and he recalled the past events about "The Picture of Fishing Old Man" that Ye Dafu and himself had said, especially the sentence "Yan Ti Liu Ying" by the half-sage.

He looked at the painting again, and now he looked carefully, and found that there was a black shadow under the fisherman.

It's a shadow!

The original version of "The Picture of Fishing Old Men" is a night scene without shadows.

In this version, if it is the shadow cast by the bloody sunset, it cannot be at such an angle.

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

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

"Yan Ti Liu Ying!"

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

Chen Luo waved his hand, and directly erased the poem "Jiuyi Diaoyushi".

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

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

For a while, there was a lot of discussion among the Confucians present, and even Yan Tianbing frowned slightly. Logically, a person can only write one poem at a time, but just now Chen Luo didn't finish the last word, and at this time, it is barely within the rules to redo a poem. Inside.

I don't know what new poems he will write.

Confused by Chen Luo's actions, at this moment all eyes held their breath and fell on Chen Luo's pen tip.

Chen Luo now has a plan in mind, and writes——

The rolling Yangtze River flows eastward,

The waves scour the heroes.

Right and wrong, success or failure, turn your head empty,

The green hills are still there,

Several times the sunset is red.

White-haired fishermen and woodcutters on the river,

I am used to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze.

A jug of turbid wine is happy to meet,

How many things have happened in ancient and modern times,

It's all a joke!

...

Before everyone realized this, they suddenly discovered that the remaining shadow of the Diao Sou was gradually elongated, and it seemed to have turned into a figure completely different from the Diao Sou.

I saw the shadow stood up on the small boat, and sat opposite to Diao Sou, between the two of them happened to be the jug of old wine.

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

"So it is, so it is!"

Everyone also understood at this time, no wonder even the Bansheng couldn't restore the power of the Bansheng Wenbao to "The Diaoyugoutu", it turned out that Yan Liu had to appear again.

A confidant is hard to find, life and death never give up!

"No, no!" Qi Kexiu suddenly said, "This cultural treasure has not yet recovered as a semi-sage..."

It's just that before Qi Kexiu finished his sentence, a mighty momentum suddenly swayed from the upload of "The Picture of Fishing Old Men", and the majestic majesty descended, and all the great scholars were shocked.

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

"Yu... the power of time!"

purple pen literature