"What a bitter tea!" Zhaoyang said.

"This tea, it's very fragrant, it's very fragrant!" Ziyun leaned the teacup against his cheek and whispered.

"Why do I feel very light?" The water is boiling, the heart is boiling, I took the teacup, and took a sip gently, there is still a faint taste of tea into the bottom of my heart, but the aftertaste has a little mellow feeling, look at the tea soup, it is still light red, like amber and gold-edged appearance, it is very good-looking.

Miss Xiaofeng still has a faint smile, as if she sees our thoughts, and seriously adds tea to each of us, the tea cup is swept by, refreshing, the soup is still not thick or light, red and transparent, drink slowly, taste tea, but it is still faint.

"Uncle Deng has been gone for a long time!" Zhaoyang still couldn't hold his breath and asked us loudly.

"Why hasn't Uncle Deng taken it back yet?" A minute later, Daewoo finally couldn't hold his breath, and he was also a little anxious.

"That's not right!" The third one who was anxious turned out to be Ziyun, she looked very sober, at this time, Ziyun also stood up, she put the red shawl on the back of the chair, "No, we have to go and see, the old man is old, and his legs and feet are not good, it still makes people worry a little!"

"Okay, I'll go with you!" I stood up and said, I was still a little worried about Ziyun, she was not in a very good state today, not to mention that she almost "died" by the river in the morning.

"Grandpa is fine," Miss Xiaofeng suddenly said at this time, "We are the only ones here with Grandpa, Grandpa is just slow to do things, he will be fine!" After speaking, still focusing on her tea ceremony.

I don't know when, there is a soft sunlight outside, the little girl stretched out her wrist, handed over a cup of tea, a faint ray of sunshine floated on it, elegant, leisurely, quiet, fresh, innocent, warm, this is a cup of sunshine tea, rippling a little in the red tea soup!

Sunshine and warmth, beautiful tea, it is enough to soothe my manic heart, it is enough to shake the pleasure of my heart.

At this time, I noticed that behind Miss Xiaofeng was a print "Arhat Tasting Tea", a monk sitting on the ground in a robe, with a tray in front of him, a pot, a bowl, three red fruits, and a full moon on his head. The girl understands the tea, the monk sits in meditation, in the small maple cloud light breeze, the dust is not clean in the tea art, I don't know whether the tea has achieved the monk's Zen realm, or the girl has achieved the highest state of the tea ceremony.

In one bizarre story after another, in a series of thrilling journeys, our day is like a wide-format movie, pulling distant stories to us, but I can't see or touch them, thinking about it, many thoughts gradually become trance in my heart!

In this bright sky, there is such beauty in front of us! Aren't the sufferings mixed with our hearts just what we have found ourselves? Suddenly I feel that we are a bunch of laymen!

"There's no smell anymore!" I suddenly said softly, and I couldn't help but startle Daewoo and Zhaoyang.

"Brother Xiaofeng, you can go!" Miss Xiaofeng removed the tea cup in front of me, smiled and said to me softly, "Grandpa is waiting for you in the hut!"

"What!" said Zhaoyang, a little upset, "why? Why can he go to the hut! What's in the hut?"

"Zhaoyang, be quiet!" Ziyun stood up and said, "What can't you say well, what are you yelling at the little girl!"

"It must have something to do with the tea ceremony, right?" Daewoo asked Miss Kaede cautiously.

Miss Xiaofeng nodded vigorously, "Grandpa said, first understand tea, and then look at the painting, the tea ceremony is the way of painting, Brother Xiaofeng realized it first!", the little girl pointed to Ziyun again, "Sister Ziyun just didn't do this, so something happened!"

Everyone looked at Ziyun and looked at me again, I couldn't help but smile bitterly, "Well, eh, everyone is different, I'll go first!" I stood up and didn't leave, I would definitely be picked up by them, but when I walked to the door of the hall, I still made up for it, "Hurry up, I'll wait for you in the small room!"

I walked briskly along the corridor that I had just come, there were no windows, the light in the corridor seemed a little dim, and as I walked, I only heard the sound of my own footsteps, the sound of "dong dong dong", which seemed to fill the entire corridor.

Slowly, I heard my own heartbeat, "plop, plop" ringing softly in my ears.

It's the second time, the last time, I also felt this way, it was at the water's edge, in the heart of the moment of looking for Ziyun, and now, in this bluestone pavement of the road, the familiar voice sounded again, how can I not be shocked!

I stopped, the sound of my footsteps "thump" gone, but I could still hear my own heartbeat.

I looked around, and the corridor was a bluestone slab wall, with mottled lines and a natural style, and there was nothing special about it. At one end of the road was the hut, so I didn't care about it and ran straight in the direction of the hut.

Finally, I ran to the door, the door of the painting of "Lady", and after a "bang", I felt a sudden silence, and my heartbeat was calm again.

In front of my eyes, the door was closed, and there was nothing left on the door frame, "What about the "Lady Picture"?" I was a little puzzled.

"The door is not locked, you can come in!" An old voice sounded, it was Uncle Deng's voice.

Push open the door, under a cold lamp, an old man facing the door of the hut, sitting on a futon, in front of him, is a long old-fashioned wooden coffee table, a pale yellow cloth covers most of the coffee table, on the coffee table, there is a black pottery teapot with a handle and a few small black tea bowls, it looks very quiet, but it shows a bit of mystery. Otherwise, in the faint dim light of the hut, there was nothing to be seen.

"Sit down," Uncle Deng said lightly, looking for the light and approaching, I saw that the coffee table was placed on a mat woven with cattail, and on the mat, there were several round cushions of cattails opposite Uncle Deng.

I walked to the opposite side of Uncle Deng, sat cross-legged on a pampas cushion, looked at Uncle Deng, he didn't speak, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was thinking about something, in this small house, I couldn't help it, so I interrupted the silence, "Uncle Deng, you go here alone to drink tea!"

"I think you should have realized the tea ceremony first," Uncle Deng said slowly, "but your talent is not high!"

"Uh," I smiled and said frankly, "Maybe it has something to do with what I've experienced today, it's always been chaotic, just drinking tea, thinking about things, it made me understand a little!"

"Oh!" Uncle Deng suddenly realized, "It turned out to be enlightenment, no wonder, no wonder!"

"Uncle Deng, do they have to come here too?" I was more worried about my little friends, "Is there any magic in this?"

"Don't worry," the old man was still slow, he lifted the teapot and poured me a cup of tea, "Feng'er will answer their confusion, of course there is a reason to ask you here alone in this way!"

I picked up the teacup and gently put it close to the tip of my nose, a fresh fragrance came to my nose and kept into my heart, that kind of faint fragrance is not strong or demonic, my heart is pleasant, and my charm is clear!"

"Between the fireworks and white clouds of wild springs, drink fragrant tea and love this North Mountain. The boat under the rock couldn't bear to go, and the green stream was murmuring in the twilight. The old man smiled and didn't answer me, just recited a poem lightly, I remember that it seemed to be a tea drinking poem by Lingyi of the Tang Dynasty, but I forgot the specific name.

"Tell me, what is a print?" the old man asked me suddenly.

"The paintings that are 'printed' are prints!" I said.

"What then, what is a painting?" asked the old man again.

"This," I muttered for a moment, "is an art form that uses tools and materials such as pens, brushes, knives, ink, and paints to create images on paper, textiles, wooden boards, walls, and other surfaces. ”

"Well, it's not bad!" Uncle Deng nodded approvingly, "What about the original nature of painting?"

I was a little confused, and suddenly I remembered the word "scene imitation", and I remember that when I was in school, my teacher said that in the Middle Ages, there were people who called painting "the art of monkeys".

"The original of painting, that should be, scene imitation..."I replied to Uncle Deng.

"Yes, the scene is imitated!" Uncle Lamp said loudly, and he suddenly stood up and opened the curtain on the wall with a "whoosh".

I looked up, and I saw that on the wall, in the dim light, an antique painting was quietly unfolding in front of my eyes.