I Use Idle Books To Become Saint

"I've seen Wenxiang, I've seen Wan Amber."

"I've seen Wen Xiang, Chen Xiaoyou is safe and well."

"I have seen Wen Xiang, Wan Anbo will come to my house to talk about it when I have time."

...

Everyone greeted Yan Baichuan and Chen Luo one after another. The great Confucianists and masters present, some were third rank officials, some were hereditary earls and marquises, so they called Chen Luo in various ways. Enter the Confucian Temple.

The Confucian Temple is not a simple hall, but a large building with several entrances. The first step is to enter the Hall of Enlightenment, where statues of children sit in front of the desks, making chanting gestures, and walking into the Hall of Enlightenment, as if they heard the voices of young children chanting.

Walk out of the Hall of Enlightenment, and then enter the Hall of All Saints, where statues stand against the walls, surrounding the east, west, north, south, and each statue has a different shape, surrounded by a special charm.

"The statues here are all semi-sacred images of Shengyun." Yan Baichuan introduced softly, "Although each family has an ancestral hall to enshrine, the sacred meaning can only be condensed in the Confucian Temple."

"The semi-holy of the human race, so far no one has died at the end of his life, all of them died for the human race."

"Back then, Xunzi once said that for infinite years, he would rather die tens of thousands of demi-sages in exchange for the eternal existence of the human race. Therefore, this hall is called the Hall of All Saints."

Chen Luo nodded, and bowed to these human half-saints one by one, and the accompanying people did not rush. They knew that this was Chen Luo's first visit here, so they waited patiently.

Half a quarter of an hour later, Chen Luo finished his salute, followed Wen Xiang through a square, and entered the Xu Temple.

More than half saint, not into Saint, is honored as virtual saint.

There are far fewer statues in the Temple of the Void than in the Hall of All Saints, with only sixteen statues. Among them are Xunzi, Hanfeizi, Mozi, Suzi, Luzi, Simazi, etc., all of whom are the founders of the theory of one family.

"The sacred meaning of Xusheng does not need the context and the power of the Confucian family, but can be condensed by itself. Therefore, most of them fall into the clan ancestral halls of various families." Yan Baichuan said, "The statue here is to accept scholars from all over the world. Worship, with the power of the sage, protect the prosperity of Wen Yun."

Chen Luo was taught, worshiped one by one again, and finally stopped at a statue that looked only about forty years old, with a smile on his face, making people look like a spring breeze.

"This is the statue of Fang Xusheng." Wen Xiang said, "Fang Sheng's canonization was blocked by the barbarians, and the high priest of the Mantian Temple came in person, blessed the power of the barbarians, and his strength was almost close to that of the human Saint. Returning with the other two semi-holy priests, this is the holy death. So stay in the position of the virtual saint."

"Fang Sheng was strict with self-discipline all his life, upright and dignified, and rarely smiled. This is the last moment before his death, the smile he gave to the half-sage of his clan was recorded and sculpted by the half-sage."

Chen Luo looked at the statue with a slight smile on his face, as if he saw this Saint, who was almost the fifth saint of the human race, shed the last drop of blood for the human race, but smiled generously and freely. At this time, Chen Luo didn't have any grudges with the Fang family in his mind, only respect for the sages of the human race. He earnestly bowed to the statue of Fang Sheng, but in the middle of the salute, Chen Luo couldn't bow down, as if a force prevented Chen Luo from worshiping Fang Sheng.

Everyone's complexion changed, and dissatisfaction appeared on their faces, and Yan Baichuan's eyes flashed with anger.

"presumptuous!"

It turned out that Fang's family was tens of thousands of miles away, using Fang's holy will to prevent Chen Luo from paying homage!

Chen Luo stood up, looked at the statue of Fang Sheng again, and saw a trace of apology in that smile!

Chen Luo heaved a long sigh, cupped his hands and bowed again, this time instead of bowing, he stood still for a moment, then signaled to Yan Baichuan that it was okay.

Yan Baichuan was still angry, and said: "Holy will is so rare, the Fang family did this at the expense of the holy will, Wenchang Pavilion must investigate to the end."

"No need!" Chen Luo smiled lightly, "One day, I will go to the Fang Family Ancestral Temple to pay homage to Fang Sheng!"

...

Walking out of the Xusheng Hall is the last hall in the Confucian Temple: the Most Holy Hall.

In the most holy hall, unlike the previous statues standing against the wall, there are only four holy statues here, with their backs facing north and facing south. In the middle is a statue that is one size larger than the other statues. Majestic, with big ears and shoulders, hands over knees, holding bamboo slips in left hand, pen knife in right hand, looking up at the sky.

This is the statue of Holy Confucius.

Below the statue of Confucius, there are three slightly smaller statues of Saint, namely Mencius, Yan Zi and Zeng Zi.

Chen Luo worshiped one by one, and when Chen Luo finished worshiping, the Confucian Temple Miao Zhu who was waiting on the side stepped forward, and Chen Luo hurriedly saluted. When he came here, Yan Baichuan had specially told him that the conservatorship of this Confucian Temple should be held by a senior Confucian, because he has experienced the sacred meaning of the holy statues all the year round, so the hope of being promoted to semi-sacred is one point higher than others. This Miaozhu is Kong Chengyong, a great scholar of the Confucian family, and he must not be neglected.

"Chen Xiaoyou is polite." Kong Chengyong returned a salute, "Master has taught me, so there is no need to be formal."

Afterwards, Kong Chengyong looked at Yan Baichuan again: "Mr. Wen, the invitation to the saint has been arranged."

Yan Baichuan nodded: "Then let's go."

...

Following Kong Chengyong, everyone came to an Eight Trigrams square, which was surrounded by pines and cypresses and was full of greenery. Three empty Shiraishi monuments were erected on the Eight Trigrams square. Kong Chengyong intends to explain to Chen Luo, who has just arrived, that the so-called invitation to the saints is actually to enshrine the holy meaning in the soul of poetry, and then turn the soul of poetry into the spirit of literary treasures. But every call to the Holy Will consumes the First Stage of the Holy Will, so it is not easy to invite the Holy Will. This time, Wenchang Pavilion and Confucian Temple finally determined the number of three half-life cultural treasures after detailed planning.

In other words, all those who participate in the holy invitation can only present three poems at most.

Of course, if someone has already asked for the holy will first, the number of places for offering poems will be reduced.

This invitation to the saint is not without benefits, not to mention the rewards of Wenchang Pavilion, but if the invitation to the saint is successful, you will get a trace of holy rhyme aura. This aura can be used on oneself, illuminating the confusion of consciousness, and it can also be given to others. It can make people hear and see clearly, draw inferences about other cases from one instance, and can also be integrated into treasures to gain a little power of the holy way. In short, there are many benefits.

Leng Hanbing has already taken four bets at this time. If he wins, he will eat four great Confucian cultural treasures once he is full. If he loses, he will not only have to take advantage of the cultural treasures he won from Qi Kexiu, but also Post three pieces upside down. But at this moment, he was not worried at all, and he walked up to other people who wanted to offer poems to invite saints, and said: "The old man suggests that you write poems before Wan Anbo, otherwise you may not even have the quota to speak!"

Everyone was slightly moved when they heard Leng Hanbing's words, but a great scholar snorted coldly. The name of this great Confucianist is Luo Sanqiu. He has been famous for a long time and has always been proud of his poetic talent. As for Chen Luo's poems, it was once questioned that people in the bamboo forest ghostwritten them in order to help him become famous. This kind of statement was once quite recognized. But as Chen Luo's famous poems came out one after another, his face was almost swollen, but Face couldn't put it down. When someone asked him to comment on Chen Luo's poems, he thought the other party was I'm insulting myself.

Now that Chen Luo was in front of him, Luo Sanqiu also held his breath. Besides, I am very sure this time, as long as my own poetry overwhelms Chen Luo, then my own face will be recovered, and then I will "occasionally" talk about the previous misunderstanding with Chen Luo as a senior, and everyone will laugh it off. Not beautiful.

With such a plan in mind, Luo Sanqiu would naturally not consider himself inferior to Chen Luo and write a poem first, so he said to Leng Hanbing: "I am a great Confucian, how can I take away the stage where Junior can show his demeanor. Let him come first, The old man will come up last."

Leng Hanbing looked at Luo Sanqiu, his eyes lit up: Big fat sheep!

Leng Hanbing quickly approached and said, "Brother Luo, do you want to take a gamble?"

Luo Sanqiu had heard about Leng Hanbing's betting method a long time ago, hesitated for a moment, and shook his head: "I don't do such things that take advantage of others' danger."

Leng Hanbing suddenly became anxious, why are you taking advantage of others?

It was me who took advantage of others!

Leng Hanbing hastily said: "That's right, Wan Anbo is a talented poet, and it's not too difficult to invite two saints with a poem. Luo Daru should not lose Wen Bao in vain!"

Luo Daru frowned, thought for a while, and didn't speak.

Leng Hanbing turned and left, sighing and said: "It turns out that Luo Daru is also optimistic that Wan Anbo can complete the feat of two saints in one poem, and he is on the same path as me."

"Wait!" Luo Sanqiu shouted.

No one knows what reputation you have now for Leng Hanbing.

Wan Amber is the first to play Confucianism!

Who wants to be like-minded with you.

Do you still want Face?

"I bet!"

"Okay!" Leng Hanbing skillfully wrote a gambling ticket in the air, and sent it to Luo Sanqiu, "I will buy it and leave it, and I will never regret it!"

Luo Sanqiu took the betting ticket and snorted again: "I'm afraid you won't have anything to lose to me then!"

Leng Hanbing laughed: "Don't worry, I Leng has some savings, hahahahaha..."

...

While walking around Leng Hanbing, Yan Baichuan waved his sleeves, and three balls of light appeared on the Eight Trigrams Square, and the brilliance dissipated, revealing three semi-holy treasures.

A wooden sword, a piece of white brick, a pair of calligraphy and painting.

"This wooden sword was made by Hong Sheng. It is based on ten thousand-year-old cypress wood, and it was conceived and raised on the foundation of a gentleman who is not afraid."

"This white brick is an ordinary brick on the city wall of Dang'an. Wansheng picked it up under the city wall when he traveled for the first time. Holy Magic Treasures. After the death of All Saints, the white bricks were taken back by me in Wenchang Pavilion."

"The third one was originally painted on the basis of "The Charcoal Sellers" by the Lotte Layman of the former dynasty, but it was defiled by an adulterer in the battle to capture the disordered prime minister sixty years ago, and the dirty officials and the old man in the picture have disappeared. , only the bullock cart is left."

"It is best to be able to recite the relevant poems in order to maximize the power of Wen Bao."

"Please holy, let's start!"

After Yan Baichuan finished speaking, he left the square.

At this time, Chen Luo was about to step forward, and stood in front of Chen Luo alone: ​​"Brother Chen, you are very talented, I'm afraid it will be useless for me to wait once you play, why don't you let me come first?"

Chen Luo took a look, and saw that the other party was a teacher from an academy, who had met once, so he nodded.

To be honest, the aura reward from the saint is actually not particularly important to him, a non-Confucian.

The main reason is to contribute to the human race!

However, after the master went up, he wrote three poems on the stone tablet in a row. After a while, the three poems disappeared, and the invitation to the saint failed.

Immediately afterwards, another person stepped forward. This time, a poem stayed on the stele for a while, but it eventually dissipated.

"It's a bit difficult this time!" Someone murmured, "That's okay for Bai Jian. How do you inscribe a half-damaged painting and a brick?"

"It can't be helped. The papers and newspapers that participated in the holy invitation are all lined up, and they cannot be selected. Otherwise, it would be desecrating cultural treasures."

"How many times is this?"

"It's the sixth one, and there are only Wan Amber and Luo Daru behind."

"They should be able to, at least one person invites one."

"It's hard to say! Asking a saint is no better than others. Although the holy will has no spiritual wisdom, there are still preferences in the dark. It doesn't mean that you will be successful if you have a good literary talent. Unless you really understand a semi-sage, please try to invite him." You have a certain degree of certainty."

"So, there is hope for Luo Daru. His master is a semi-sacred saint. Could it be that he wants to invite his master?"

"Let's wait and see."

At this time, Chen Luo looked at the edge of Eight Trigrams Square, only himself and another sixty-year-old scholar were left, and politely asked the other party to come first. Luo Sanqiu waved his hand: "You are Junior, you don't need to be courteous, go ahead!"

Chen Luo was a little surprised, this great Confucian has such a strong character!

So I was not polite, and walked to the three empty Shiraishi monuments.

Chen Luo's eyes flashed in front of the three cultural treasures, and he had already planned in his mind.

Luo Sanqiu looked at Chen Luo's eyes, set his eyes on the cypress sword, and nodded slightly in his heart.

Sure enough, it was to start with the cypress sword.

Years have known pines and cypresses, and this cypress sword is naturally the best to write.

Just still young.

There are many poems praising pines and cypresses, and the holy will has long been familiar, so how can you stand out?

too young!

Chen Luo naturally didn't know Luo Sanqiu's thoughts, picked up the pen, took a deep breath, and swiped the pen.

All the eyes in the square were fixed on Chen Luo’s pen seal, and silently recited the poem written by Chen Luo——

"The north wind blows, blowing the cypress branches in front of my court."

"The firm tree is not afraid of the wind, and it is self-sufficient in its integrity."

"Fingshuang has devoted all his heart to Kuang Fuyang and Jing Jianyi."

"Idle flowers and wild grass are still luxuriant, what will the wind blow the cypress branches?"

"How long will the north wind blow?"

As soon as the writing was finished, the stele suddenly shone brightly, and at the same time, the Eight Trigrams symbols on the Eight Trigrams square lit up one by one.

"Eight Trigrams Qi Liang, Please Saint succeeded!"

"A holy will has come!"

"Although this poem is less literary, it has extraordinary meaning!"

"Don't stand out with literary talent and artistic conception, but portray a strong and self-sufficient image and a integrity that is not afraid of wind and frost!"

"Yeah, the north wind is blowing, doesn't it mean that the northern barbarians are approaching? The north wind blows, and the pines and cypresses cannot be blown down. When winter comes, the sun and spring are still far away? We wait for the human race to be firm and unyielding, let's see how long the barbarian north wind can blow." ?”

"Let's see, who is the holy will?"

Everyone looked at the Eight Trigrams picture in the center of Eight Trigrams Square, the Yin & Yang fish turned, and a cyan figure appeared slightly.

"How long will the north wind blow?"

"Old man Su Wu, I would like to defend the Northern Territory for another three hundred years for the human race!"

An old and deep voice sounded.

"Su Sheng! It's Su Wu half saint!" Everyone exclaimed.

According to historical records, during the "Human" Dynasty, there was a semi-saint Su Wu who used his body as a screen to trap three barbarians in the endless ice field of the Northern Territory for three hundred years! One-tenth of the barbarian's combat power was involved in the "human" dynasty's counterattack against the barbarians.

The sacred meaning of Su Wu stepped up and merged into the stone tablet. Immediately, the poetic culture in the stone tablet became a ray of light, which shot into the cypress sword, and a icy-cold demi-holy pressure came out from the cypress sword.

Everyone bowed and saluted: "Young people of the human race, thank you Su Wu half-sage!"

The cypress sword circled and flew behind Chen Luo. Chen Luo also bowed and saluted, and then set his eyes on the shattered painting...

purple pen literature