Song Yun won the title of Jianghu Liuqu at a young age, and saw that his piano skills were extraordinary, and the sound of the piano was as slender as flowing water.

He sat quietly on a rock in the middle of the cliff, knee-keeping, his fingers fluctuating on the piano very smoothly. The sound of the piano is tactful, and there is a sense of desolation.

Like a charming twilight, he used the blood-stained sunlight to string up the traces of time, leaving endless vicissitudes in people's hearts. He plucked the strings, which seemed to linger in the water, stirring up ripples. The sound of the piano has traveled through the years, through time, and walked with thoughts.

The sound of the piano is the resurrection of the soul, his piano sound stirs the heart into the condensation of the picture, in the silence, the ginkgo tree stands high in the garden and sings silently in autumn, the yellow leaves of the thorn tree have long been written full of autumn meaning, waiting for the wind to come after picking.

At this time, a dusk autumn scene, even at this moment in the middle of the day, can not soothe this artistic conception.

Unconsciously, people fall into a wave of sorrow and longing, wandering the world, without a purpose, without a destination.

The sound of the piano is euphemistic, and the coupon comes, like noble flowing water, gurgling charm, with an unswerving will, even if the end of the world is far away, and the road is lonely and lonely, you have to go to the distance alone......

Some people who focus on the sound of the qin are all caught in the meaning of the qin at this moment, Su Yang and Hu Yan Shijie's fists and feet are resisting, and the offensive and defensive battles between Xiong Defeat Tian Sima Jian and the unrepentant monk Hong Yuan have nothing to do with these people, they are immersed in the world of the sound of the qin.

Su Yang and Huyan Shijie fought, but when they heard the sound of the piano, they couldn't help but be distracted.

Hu Yan Shijie opened his fist and snorted coldly: "Hmph! Cultivation is indomitable, even if there is only one person, I will fight to the end! All those who stand in my way will die!"

Su Yang didn't answer, and with the Tianyan Holy Law, he broke Yan Shijie's fists and feet, and in his heart he only said that he was also a wandering wanderer, but he was different from the person in the qinyin.

……

I don't know when the sound of the piano began, it seemed to pass through the patina knocker sprinkled with the door of the old house in the old city, through the bustling and noisy restaurant, across the small bridge with flowing water, over the river embankment full of fishing fires, through the reeds covered with fluorescent light, and into the moonlit river.

The sun rises and sets quickly, and dusk always comes faster than morning. It's dusk again, and the sunset is gradually losing its luster and setting in the west.

The traveler has stepped out of the West Pass, on the vast ancient road, one person and one ride, against the west wind to move forward with difficulty. In the bleak night, only the lonely traveler wanders farther away.

"Zheng ......"

The sound of the piano stopped abruptly, but everyone's hearts were still moving forward on the desolate ancient road,

Song Yun looked at the guqin, his hands still on the strings.

The sound of the piano echoes through the hollow. It was obviously daylight, and people felt that it was a sunset crow at this time, and the west wind was blowing thin horses, and once people set foot on the end of the world, they would only be left with the desolate ancient shore.

Many people seem to have forgotten that the piano has stopped at this point.

Such an amazing sound of the piano has made people forget the applause and praise, and it seems that they don't want their own applause to destroy this artistic conception, and they don't want their own voice to cover the little remnants of the empty valley......

Different people have different thoughts, the young girl misses Lang Jun who is far away in the world, the wanderer who travels far away feels the sorrow of parting, and the monk sees his own way......

It wasn't until a quarter of an hour had passed that there was no movement around.

There was a young monk who was deeply touched, he said: "This is the rivers and lakes, this is the monk's road, once you set foot on it, blood and tears are nothing at all, the loneliness in my heart, and my thoughts are chaotic...... Alas, I can't go on. ”

"If the Dao heart is not strong, it is the monk's greatest enemy. ”

……

"It is worthy of being a Liuqu person, even if the end of the world is far away, we must unswervingly go on!"

"Among the younger generation, only Liuqu Songyun has this talent. ”

One person sighed slightly, looking very pitying, he said: "It's a pity, if Song Yun focuses on this talent and cultivation, the Holy Son of Feiyu Immortal Palace will not be someone else......"

……

At this time, a middle-aged man in white, in his thirties, medium stature, with a small handful of goatees, looked good, embroidered with green bamboo on his clothes, and hung a piece of white jade around his waist, with a handsome temperament. Previously, it was he who sang the "Suzhen 4,000 Thousand, Thirty-two Lotus Peaks ......" at sunrise.

"Good song, good song. ”

He closed his eyes slightly, a paper fan tapped the palm of his left hand, with rhythm, and the sound of the piano just now was still in his ears, many people noticed him, and they couldn't help but have an expectation in their hearts.

"Sir, why don't you put on a poem?" someone laughed.

Many people know that he is a famous literati in the Dazhong Domain, although he has no cultivation, but everyone may as well respect him.

He stroked his beard.

"The lonely village is in the sunset, and the light smoke is old and the jackdaws are old. As soon as his melody stopped, he suddenly wrote a poem, and his pause, the mood of many slightly elegant people paused, and he could only hear him continue to chant:

"A little bit of Feihong. ”

"Green mountains and green waters, white grass, red leaves and yellow flowers. ”

……

When the poem fell, it was more than the movement of the sound of the piano, and many mortal literati and writers were silent, and the previous sound of the piano echoed in their heads, and they couldn't help but be opposite to the poem.

"Good poetry!" Bai Xingjian clapped his hands and praised.

The sound of the piano is poetic, a long song is tactful, all the way to the red dust, the sound of the piano will be a wandering traveler, a lone monk, the description is extremely profound, which makes people feel deeply.

And the poem is written in autumn but does not see a "autumn" word, five sentences and twenty-eight words, although the length is short, but with the pen of God to poke out a wonderful autumn scene, this poem and this song, it is really amazing.

This scenario comes to people's minds:

"At dusk, the remnants of blood reflect a lonely village, the faint smoke of the sunset curls, a few homing jackdaws, standing quietly on the branches of the old trees, suddenly, a mournful lonely hong, flying far away in the shadow of the sunset beside people. ”

At this moment, the style of painting has changed, and what is in front of people's eyes is that the green mountains are quiet, the green water is long, the white grass is continuous, the red leaves are patches, and the yellow flowers are blooming. ”

In the twilight, these bright colors add a lot of vitality to this gloomy atmosphere, sweeping away the sadness of the previous piano sound.

"It's a good song, it's a good song, but the world is prosperous, and you can't see it. Bai Xingjian exclaimed, his flowing white hair without a trace of impurities.

"Haha, good poetry, good poetry. What a green mountain and green water, a hundred grasses, red leaves and yellow flowers!" Bai Xingjian rolled his chest and laughed heartily.

Xiong Defeat, who was fighting farther and farther away from Hong Yuan, shouted: "I don't know what a good poem is, I just know that the buzzing cry has finally stopped, haha." ”

Xiong defeated Tian Sima Jian, and fought with Hong Yuan, but Xiong Defeated Tian has been sticking, Hong Yuan wants to avoid Xiong Defeattian's perverted strength advantage, and wants to cast the Dao method from a distance, but.

In the distance, someone pointed and scolded: "Rude!

Bai Xingjian couldn't help but laugh after hearing this, he shook his head and said lightly: "You know that he is a reckless man, and he still talks to him about the piano and poetry." Alas......"

The lonely village is in the sunset, the light smoke is old and the jackdaws are in the shadow. Green mountains and green waters, white grass, red leaves and yellow flowers. "Tianjingsha - Autumn", Bai Pu.

(End of chapter)