If the images of the mirage you see in front of you record the real things that happened in history, then how many years have these dead trees died?

In addition, in the mirage in the sky, the fragrance of plum blossoms can really be emanated...... Combined with the cultural soul fluctuations emanating from this black stone mountain......

Then there is only one explanation: this mirage must not be a naturally formed illusion, but a scene formed by an artificial soul superpower!

Who can possess such a magnificent soul energy, enough to form such a beautiful mirage between heaven and earth?

Moreover, this energy has been condensed here for many years, what kind of powerful soul does this have to have in order to have this divine soul cultivation?

Huo Zongtang couldn't help but be in awe. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info legendary ancient Taoist saints and Confucian saints, which can immortalize the soul. Isn't this miraculous vision in front of me a sense of soul immortality?

He remembered something. Legend has it that some scholars who have cultivated to a high level of literature and soul, in order to study the way of literature and explore the great mysteries of heaven and earth, will travel to some strange and dangerous places to enlighten the Tao. After enlightenment, these people may leave poems and ink treasures in between, causing the soul of the text to resonate with the heavens, the earth, and the landscape, and the aura will remain in the world for a long time.

Later generations called these places "Wendao Victories", and even worshiped them as holy places.

Could it be that this is the "Wendao Victory" created by a certain master with the great mana of the ancient literary soul?

With a great respect, Huo Zongtang continued to climb up. Along the way, he passed several dead plum trees. He had touched it with his hand, and the plum trees had long since lost all their vitality, but strangely enough, each tree showed no signs of decay, and was still stubbornly rooted in the cracks of the mountains, standing proudly against the vast heaven and earth, the wind and frost sword.

A few hours later, Huo Zongtang finally reached the highest point of the black stone mountain and stood on the tip of the sword of this mountain peak that stood like a long sword.

Behind him was the last dead plum tree.

By this time, it was getting late.

The desert is like the sea, the sunset is like blood, the dusk is long, and the desolate red light has soaked the earth.

The footprints of the years, I don't know how many tens of millions of years have passed in this uninhabited world. The desolation is as good as ever, and the dead silence is as good as ever.

The eternal sunset has set on the other side of the horizon.

The edge of the black stone mountain, which stood upright like a sword, was outlined by the sunset with a golden edge, and Huo Zongtang, who was standing on the top of the mountain, became like a statue, and there was also a golden-red light shining on his body.

The infinite scenery is in the dangerous peak, and a little desolation sees the present and the ancient.

It's infinitely touching.

Huo Zongtang put aside all his thoughts and sat on the hard and rough rock, his thoughts drifting away with the howling cold wind, floating between heaven and earth.

Night slowly fell, Huo Zongtang felt that in the black stone sitting under him, a soul energy was getting stronger and stronger, and this invisible and qualitative energy went straight to the sky, and it went straight to the brilliant galaxy.

It is like an invisible plum tree, blooming between heaven and earth.

Sensing the ancient and noble meaning behind the energy, Huo Zongtang couldn't help but feel surging and shocked. Even the great book of divine souls in the soul space trembled slightly, and there was a tendency to resonate.

Then, in the night sky, there was a magnificent mirage illusion, floating in the void opposite the top of the mountain!

A plum blossom blooms on the branches, and an old man carries a cane and a quinoa with wine, and blows lightly on the plum blossoms in the trees. The frost flowers on the branches are like snow, and Sumei is the same ice muscle and snow bone, and the water is shining, which is extraordinarily quiet. At this time, the full moon is in the sky, and a white crane flies in the sky and lands under the plum tree.

After that, the picture is full of plum blossoms, noble and elegant. Huo Zongtang counted it carefully, a total of fifty-eight pictures.

Immediately afterwards, the picture turned, and I saw a picture of Danshan mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River spread across the sky, which was full of red plums, smiling proudly in the spring breeze. There is an old man who stopped under the red plum tree in a boat, and drank leisurely alone to the tree and flowers. Unexpectedly, a red plum on the tree suddenly turned into a jade man, and he took a cup from the old man's hand and drank it. For a while, the jade skin was lightly dyed rouge, the spring breeze was drunk, and the xia flew at a double frequency.

There are 19 pictures of this red plum blossoming and turning into a beautiful woman with clear jade bones.

After that, the picture turned again, but it became a huge picture. There is a thin plum tree painted on the scroll, but unfortunately the plum tree is bare, and there is not a single plum blossom.

An old man was so drunk that he drank a large jar of ink next to the scroll in one gulp. Immediately afterwards, the old man spat out his mouth, and all the ink sprayed on the scroll. The spit ink splashed on the branches of the plum tree, or turned into a plum blossom, or splashed into a dot of ink-colored buds, each flower seemed to come to life from the drawing paper, and even the process of flowering seemed to be close at hand. Not only that, but the entire night sky is filled with a faint fragrance of ink and plum.

For a while, the soul is clear, and there is really a feeling of being full of energy.

Huo Zongtang roared in his head, as if he was aroused by the image in front of him, a soul energy in the depths of his soul was stirred, churning endlessly.

There are four pictures of this Momei.

Immediately afterwards, there was a scene of ice and snow in front of me, fifteen snow and plum mirages, disillusioned in the air like a movie.

In the end, there are seven more complex, beautiful, and shocking pictures, each of which is as fantastical and trance-like as a long movie!

The soul of plum blossoms is fully displayed in these seven pictures!

Huo Zongtang has been completely immersed in this magical mirage of the soul and entered the realm of forgetting things and me!

He had completely forgotten who he was, where he was, and why he came from......

He only felt that he had turned into a plum blossom, slowly blooming in the wind and snow, brewing fragrance in the old man's wine glass, opening his white heart on the painting paper, and showing the noble soul between the fingers of the beauty......

During this time, he has worked hard to cultivate the plum blossom image, but unfortunately he has been stuck in a bottleneck and unable to make progress.

But tonight's magnificent mirage is full of plum blossom ink rhyme with a variety of postures, simple colors, and awe-inspiring bones, during which it is poetic and picturesque, and there is a broad, heavy, elegant and indifferent and noble ancient temperament.

Under the influence of this, Huo Zongtang's state of mind has undergone great changes. The bottleneck of the cultivation of the literary soul, under the influence of this divine mirage, slowly melted like solid ice......

He sat alone on the top of the Black Stone Mountain, motionless, like a thousand-year-old pine. The desert at night was extremely heavy, and his hair and brows, his clothes and shoulders had all condensed a thin layer of frost, but he didn't realize it.

Before you know it, the darkness is gone, the red sun is rising, and another day has arrived.

The warm sun melted away the frost on Huo Zongtang's body, but he still sat motionless, his eyes stopped at the place where the mirage illusion appeared last night.

At this moment, he was already able to guess who the identity of this great literati who had left a "Momei" literary victory in this place was!

In such a dead and desolate desert, who sat alone in the mountains, planted five plum trees, and left such a magnificent plum mirage?

In ancient times, there were many literati who loved plum blossoms. But there is only one great painter and poet who loves plums, grows plums, and paints plums all his life, and works to paint plums.

At the end of the Yuan Dynasty and the beginning of the Ming Dynasty, the boiled stone mountain farmer and the crown of the plum blossom house owner!

Wang Mian's poems and paintings are unique, and the surviving "Momeitu" has been passed down through the ages and is regarded as a peerless treasure. How superb is his literary soul painting skills? Just look at last night's mirage, which was like a celestial handiwork!

These are all "painted" in the sky by the crown with the essence of soul power! Thousands of years later, the remnants of soul power can still form such a complete, stable, and magical picture of the soul in the air.

And his poetry creation is also regarded as the pinnacle of the Yuan Dynasty.

He came from a poor background, sympathized with the people's livelihood and suffering, despised the powerful, and was indifferent to fame and fortune. When he was alive, the magnates of the Yuan Dynasty asked him to go out of the mountain to be an official many times, but he sternly refused. During this period, there was inevitably a fierce battle, but whether it was Hanchen or the prince of the Yuan Dynasty, without exception, they were all defeated by Wang Mian.

Later, Zhu Yuanzhang rose up and destroyed the Yuan, because the crown was too famous, and he was also invited to go out of the mountain to assist. Wang Mian was unwilling to work for Zhu Yuanzhang, so he left his hometown and disappeared.

Could it be that the crown in the history of Hanxing, after being far away from his homeland, actually came to this desolate desert?

The reason why Huo Zongtang concluded that this was the crown of the crown was not without reason.

Wang Mian wrote a lot of plum blossom poems in his life.

Among them, there are several main categories:

The first is "Sumei Poems", a total of 58 poems. The Sumei mirage I saw last night has a total of fifty-eight pictures, exactly one poem and one picture.

The second is "Red Plum Poems", a total of 19 poems. The red plum mirage I saw last night also happened to be nineteen pictures, which corresponded one by one.

The third is the most influential "Momei poem", a total of four. It corresponds exactly to the Momei mirage I saw last night.

The fourth is "Snow Plum Poems", a total of fifteen poems, which also correspond to last night's mirage.

Finally, there are seven "long poems of plum souls", which combine plum souls, poetic souls, and human souls into one, and also correspond to the last seven movie-like mirages of last night.

It is conceivable that Wang Mian must have been in this desolate and strange place, and all his life's literary and soul cultivation was cast in the mirage of heaven and earth, and with a magical hand, he "painted" these plum blossoms with different postures and high standards and solitude, and also left his own soul imprint.

Huo Zongtang knew that he had encountered a rare opportunity for the cultivation of the soul through the ages, and he couldn't help but have mixed feelings in his heart.

He was reluctant to go down the mountain, so he sat on the top of the Black Rock Mountain, reminiscing about last night's mirage scene by scene, and constantly tasting and feeling.

The wind swept through the desert, rolling up thousands of yellow sands, and at one time filled the entire canyon and the entire stone mountain, and he sat still.

A vulture pecking at the carrion at the bottom of the valley flew past the clouds in front of him, and he sat still.

The scorching sun had tanned his skin black and chapped, and he sat still.

Throughout the day, he continued to digest and absorb the essence of the literary soul in the mirage, and he was so happy that he did not feel bored and painful at all, but his heart was full of happiness and joy.

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Ask for Votes...... (To be continued.) )