In 1648, Shunzhi forgiveness here, exile letter can go to Shengjing (Shenyang), burned in Ci'en Temple. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Together with 33 local literati and Confucian scholars, he organized the "Bingtian Poetry Society".

The incense is strong in the bhikshu altar in the front porch of the single-eaves rest mountain, and the surrounding air is always filled with the smell of incense and candles, Han Ke sits on the futon, raises his head slightly, and stares reverently at the statue of Shakyamuni Buddha enshrined in the hall.

The incense burned slowly, and the breeze blew in through the temple door, and the faint light at the top dimmed, and the ashes of the burning fell into the delicately made iron incense burner.

Han Ke slowly stood up, took out three of the neatly arranged incense sticks on the incense hall, placed them on the flame of light from the incense candles, lit them, bowed gracefully, and inserted them into the incense burner that was piled with a thick layer of incense ash.

"Master Hanke...... I can be regarded as finding you, the other brothers are looking for you, I guess you are here, they still don't believe it, look! Sure enough, I know you well enough. Before Qingyu entered the hall, he heard him shouting hoarsely.

Han Ke turned around and saw him pick up his monk's robe and jump over the threshold in a panic. walked over and smacked his bare head, giving him a helpless look.

Qingyu pouted, wrinkled two eyebrows like eight figures, rubbed the slightly painful place on his head, and chattered endlessly: "Why is it knocking on the head again, I can't shake you when I compose poems, what should I do if I knock more stupidly?" ”

Han Ke's face twitched slightly, the smile on the corner of his mouth was really hard, and he sighed gloatingly, yes! Why did you knock him on the head again?

His footsteps paused slightly, turned around, and reprimanded angrily with a straight face: "Don't leave yet, still want to make the Buddha angry?" ”

Qing Yuqi stomped his feet, snorted, covered his face and ran out.

Han Ke stepped on the blue-gray stone bricks, and some tender green seedlings grew in the cracks of the soil, and through the open window, he saw a group of people chatting enthusiastically. He stood there in a daze, looking at the cheerful crowd for a moment, but met Qingyu's gaze, he leaned on the window, leaned out of the window with half of his body, and made a trumpet: "Master Hanke, why haven't you come in yet, the tigers are all in the back mountain, and there are no tigers here, don't worry." ”

"Don't you mean the smiling tiger?" Han Ke raised his eyebrows and made a look of grievance, as if he was very afraid of him.

The attention of the other people who were talking was attracted, and they looked like they were gloating and watching a good show, and they were also happy to adjust the atmosphere with these two living treasures.

Qingyu turned his head, staring at them pitifully, tears brewing in his black and white pupils, and he had the posture of crying if he didn't help me, and the others acted surprisingly tacitly, shrugged their shoulders innocently, and did their respective positions, and comfortably picked up the teacup and drank it, relishing.

Qingyu sighed a little dejectedly, suddenly had a flash of inspiration, hummed and laughed a few times, raised his eyebrows, took out a crumpled envelope that had been crumpled from his arms, pinched it in his hand and shook it, his face was full of smug smile: "Look, do you want it?" If you're fooling around, I'll tear it up. He winked defiantly at Hanke: "Oh, from Boluo City......"

When Han Ke heard this, he couldn't react in half a ring, and the voice of Qingyu came from the top of his head: "Tear it......"

"Stinky boy, you wait ......" Han Ke saw that he was about to tear, he jumped to his feet angrily, pointed at his fingertips trembled slightly, and ran up wildly regardless of his image.

Hanko sat down on the stool and carefully opened the envelope he had so painstakingly obtained, holding his breath and suppressing the storm that had already stirred up in his heart.

A few sentences were written on the thin paper, and Han Kezai read them carefully.

"The Qing soldiers sacked Boluo City, and there was not one out of ten, hundreds of people in the family, and one brother was alone." There was no one who made the payment, but he recognized the familiar handwriting.

The room was silent, everyone's faces were carved with resentment, and their eyes invariably fell on Han Ke, who had extremely low air pressure, filled with a murderous aura.

His rough fingertips clenched involuntarily, the fragile letter paper was crumpled as if it were the hateful Qing soldier, his eyes were half-squinted, his teeth were grinding and making a rattling sound, and his black and white eyes showed a bloodthirsty look, and he was cold.

A figure walked over, stretched out his slender fingertips and climbed on his shoulder, Han Ke slowly raised his head, glanced at the visitor, and saw Qingyan's worried face, the corners of his mouth were weakly hooked, and a far-fetched smile was embedded, indicating that he was fine, don't worry.

Shouldn't we all be accustomed to this kind of thing?

Qingyan made a gesture elegantly, showing good cultivation, signaling that they were all dispersed today, and they would find another time to exchange poems. Everyone glanced at Han Ke worriedly, but they also understood that staying here would not make a difference, so they all left.

Qingyu scratched his head, stared at his dejected appearance, pursed his lips, and stopped talking. He smiled awkwardly, his expression a little unnatural: "Senior brother, am I in trouble?" ”

"It's okay...... It's none of your business, remember to do your homework when you go back. Qingyan poured the tea, raised his good-looking eyebrows, raised a warm smile on his lips, and instructed.

"Got it...... Qingyu lowered his eyebrows, stared at the shabby monk shoes, curled up his small toes, answered in a low voice, turned around three times in one step, and reluctantly turned away.

"Have a cup of tea!" Qingyan's gaze fell on Han Ke again, bowed slightly, and took out the letter paper he was holding in his hand, and the warm blue and white tea cup rested in his palm-covered hand.

Slowly sat on the chair beside him, carefully unfolded the crumpled letterhead, and the pen flowed smoothly, and it could be seen that even if the person who wrote the letter was not rich in learning, he was not necessarily full of wealth.

Han Ke held the tea cup in both hands, took a sip with a dull gaze, the faint fragrance of tea lingered between his lips and teeth, his Adam's apple rolled a few times, the warm tea slid into his stomach, and his cold body gradually warmed up.

"Live...... It's the most important thing, with everyone, friends, family. Qingyan handed over the envelope of Luping, his eyes were deep, and he persuaded worriedly.

Han Ke slowly put down the misty teacup, rubbed the corners of his aching eyes, and felt relieved. He blinked, tried to suppress his negative emotions, and smiled at the corners of his mouth: "I know, don't worry!" ”

Qingyan put down the heart that was on his chest, and nodded contentedly as he watched him return to normal, he got up and left, walked to the short threshold, paused slightly, turned his head slightly, and said lightly: "Once you enter the Buddha Gate, you will be regarded as a Buddha." ”

The bright sunlight slanted down, and Han Ke stared at his golden figure, unmoved.