It took me one night to send a letter back to Juan Bei. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 In the info letter, I listed everything that I could verify about the relationship between He Shen and Peking Opera. For example, the relationship between He Shen and several major Hui merchants behind the Hui class, as well as the record that when He Shen was in charge of the Internal Affairs Office, he recruited the Hui class into the palace to help Qianlong relieve his boredom, and it was specifically noted that He Shen himself was also a ticket friend, and his attainments in Peking Opera were still very high, and he had performed in front of Qianlong several times and was praised by Qianlong.

However, whether the Huiban entered Beijing to celebrate Qianlong's birthday was promoted by He Shen is not mentioned in the historical data. But He Shen was already in power that year, and he did everything to the emperor. Even if it wasn't his instructions, he must have been an insider.

Next, I pretended to be casual and asked him why he thought of research and Shen? And when we chatted about Jingshan, we paid attention to it in the past two years, and made some new discoveries, so I asked him to have a time to get together and talk in detail.

At the end of the letter, I asked him about the condition of his throat and wished him a speedy recovery and a speedy appearance.

That time, my letter sank. Every time I returned to Beijing, the first thing I did was to rummage through the mailbox, but I didn't receive a reply from Hu Anbei. I once called his troupe, and he wasn't there. Colleagues in the regiment said he had gone on a business trip to Anhui and would not be back until a few weeks later. I can't wait for him to return, so I'm going to leave again.

Maybe it's a coincidence, but it's more likely fate. In the summer of that year, Cao and I went to Henan to investigate a case of the mysterious and tragic death of a tomb robber, and then returned to Beijing in the autumn. When passing by Anyang, I suddenly thought of a place called Yili in the south of Anyang, where the legend has it that King Wen of Zhou was imprisoned there by King Shang and deduced 64 hexagrams according to the innate gossip, and wrote the "Book of Changes" that has influenced later generations for thousands of years. This place is definitely a must-see.

From the city to the south, it is less than half an hour's drive. We arrived at the Wenwang Temple in Jinli, the main building of the Wenwang Temple was repaired during the Northern Song Dynasty, and then after several wars, it was rebuilt several times, and now it is dilapidated. Unfortunately, the inside is being rebuilt, and we hurriedly watched the Yanyitai where King Wen was imprisoned back then, but in fact, there is only a mound more than two meters high. The grass is overgrown on it, and some wooden railings have been erected, and the original appearance can still be seen from there. A large number of construction materials have been piled up around the earthen platform, and it is said that the Wenwang Temple will be rebuilt, which is a key tourist project in Anyang. I thought to myself, I'm afraid that with the new buildings, it will be even more difficult to find the charm of the old city in the future.

The construction site is full of dust. Team Cao had no interest in these cultural attractions, and when he saw that there were more and more construction vehicles coming in and out, he pulled me away in a hurry. Out of the Wenwang Temple, it is a long and narrow old street. The buildings on both sides of the old street are also dilapidated, but they are still vaguely the same as they were more than 100 years ago. Many of the houses have yellow cloth flags hanging in front of their low doors, apparently unwashed for many years and stained with oil, but you can vaguely see the gossip embroidered on them.

Team Cao didn't understand what the banner represented, and looked into the nearby room. The room was dark and damp, and a small table could be seen in the middle of the room, with a red carpet on it, on which were placed sticks, compasses, and a few books, and a middle-aged man with a thin figure and a long beard, sitting behind the desk with his head down, seemed to be asleep leaning on a wicker chair.

"Fortune teller? I thought there was some mystery in it, but you don't believe in it, so let's go. Team Cao pulled me and walked forward.

"The two of them are coming to King Wen's hometown, why don't you divinate two hexagrams?" the middle-aged man in the room raised his head and said. Although the room was dimly lit, I could vaguely see that he was blind with sunken eyes.

"The guest is from the south, but he wants to return to the north, meet with fate, the two of you come in and have a cup of tea, right?" the fortune teller said again. Team Cao was stunned for a moment, obviously surprised that the fortune teller could tell us where we came from and where we were going. I know that fortune tellers may not all be masters of Zhou Yi, but they must be experts in observing words and feelings. According to the line, this is called a probing stone. That sentence is actually a cliché, the fortune teller deduces the identity characteristics of the other party according to the dress of the guest, the objects carried, and some unnatural accent details of the person himself, and chooses a cliché.

And the sentence itself, can be understood from many aspects, to put it bluntly, it is to hit the luck, installed, the guest naturally thinks that he is not a prophet, did not bump into, the guest just feels that the fortune teller deliberately dragged the text to show off, and will not go to the heart. Team Cao obviously hadn't met a fortune teller, so he was scared in a word. It seems that the fortune teller may not be really blind.

I shook my head, tugged at his sleeve, winked, and pulled him on.

"The old dream of the Red Mansion is here, and the green willows and peach blossoms are new. Don't ask what's going on in the mountains, don't say goodbye to the old people. Confusion cannot be solved, and the cause is self-revealed. The slightly hoarse voice of the fortune teller sounded behind him again. And this time, it was me who was stunned.

This is indeed the knot in my heart that I have been puzzled about recently, Juan North, I can't find the lost singing voice, at that moment, I suddenly felt that in that gloomy hut, maybe there is really the answer to the story.

The fortune teller never left his seat and sat upright. He asked me to go to the next room to rest first, and let Team Cao sit on the small square stool in front of the table. The inner room is only about five square meters, and there is only a lonely two-seater sofa, and nothing else. The hut had no doors, and was separated from it by a dark blue coarse cloth curtain, and I could hear the conversation between the two in the outhouse.

This fortune teller has a small voice, but he is unusually calm, although I can't see the outside situation, I know that this person is indeed very unusual. He didn't ask about Team Cao's birthday at all, nor did he look at the usual way of face and palmistry. It seems that he just pinched the hand of the Cao team.

The fortune teller's hand was extremely strong, and after three or two strokes, the Cao team next door called out. He asked Team Cao to take a pen and write a word in the palm of his hand, of course I didn't know what Team Cao had written.

The fortune teller pondered for a moment, and his voice was much quieter, I don't know if he was talking in the ear of Team Cao. I only vaguely heard a few intermittent words of "three years of success, no unwarranted disaster, and life to the west". After about three or five minutes of talking, the fortune teller stopped, but Team Cao did not speak, and the outhouse fell into silence.

Based on my understanding of Team Cao, he is a person who can't hold back his heart, and he loves to raise the bar with others. He didn't speak for a long time, he must have been shocked by the fortune teller's words, and I can imagine his stunned expression on that side. Soon, the fortune teller asked me to come out, but Cao Team held an unlit cigarette in his hand, snorted vigorously, got up from the chair thoughtfully, did not speak, did not look at me, and slowly walked towards the door. Obviously, the fortune teller's words kept him awake for a while.

Team Cao's reaction made me very interested in this fortune teller. I sat down on a small square stool and took a closer look at the person in front of me. The appearance of this fortune teller is extremely peculiar, his face is thin, his cheekbones are high, there are a few moles on his cheeks, and there are a few black hairs on it, which can be described as a sharp-beaked monkey gills, but he is full of heaven, wide and thick, and his ears are strangely large, and the earlobes account for almost half of the ears, which is obviously a generous blessing. This kind of appearance is simply two completely unrelated people, a combination of two faces that are very good and very bad, not to mention how awkward it looks.

I looked at his eyes again, one was closed, the other was half-open, and the other was half-open, only the whites of the eyes, and the whites of the eyes were very cloudy, with a blue-gray glow like the belly of a dead fish. There were some blood vessels scattered on it, but it looked like the blood inside had dried up, and it was a lifeless purple-black color. I reached out and shook it in front of his eyes, but he didn't respond, it seemed that he was really blind.

"Sir, what's your life?" I asked, holding my hand in front of him and whispering.

The fortune teller laughed twice, I could barely see the twitching of his lips, and the hoarse voice had reached my ears. "This gentleman is not an ordinary person, and ordinary people probably don't have the luck to tell your fate. He said as he took my hand away from him.

"Then at the door just now, what do you mean by saying that the old dream of the Red Chamber is in that poem?" I quickly asked.

"You come from afar, I always have to send you a few words, but in our industry, there is a rule of three counts, I hope you can be measured. The fortune teller looked up, and his eyelids were throbbing up and down on the two sunken eye sockets, as if trying to open them, but I could confirm that even if he did, he still couldn't see anything.

"Why doesn't a three?" I asked curiously. In the past few decades, I have seen many fortune tellers, and this is the first time I have heard of these three counts.

"The destiny of heaven does not count, the ghost destiny does not count, the attached destiny does not count, you are considered the ghost destiny, let alone counted. Fortune can't be counted, but questions can be answered, you ask. The fortune teller replied calmly.

I couldn't help but be stunned, pondering the fortune teller's words carefully, and didn't speak for a while.

The fortune teller waited for me for a while, and when he saw that I didn't make a sound, he laughed dryly twice: "Sir, if you are a person in the mountains and wilderness, you don't have to think too much, life is not fate, luck is not fate, fate is not by heaven, luck is not by people, this is the realm of how many people have cultivated for a lifetime, what is there to worry about?"

I also laughed with him twice and said, "Sir is right, but I don't know why you think so thoroughly, why do you still tell fortunes here?"

(Those who will squint, see the details first; those who will be deaf will be deaf, the first to smell the gnats flying; those who will be cool in the mouth, the first to distinguish Ziyi; those who will be suffocated by the nose, the first to feel scorched; those who will be stiff, the first to rush; those who will be confused, the first to know right and wrong: those who do not come to the object will not be reversed.) --"Liezi")