Mao Shun's yard was a little surprising to Yang Jian.

Outside the courtyard, the vicissitudes of life and mottled walls look at the scene, but inside the courtyard is a different scene.

The yard is not large, and it looks bleak in the past, there is a small pool at the end of the far wall, but around the pool is a white young sand, the young sand is like silver, and the dust is not clean, a few dark stones, standing on a sandy ground in a majestic and strange way, and on the other side of the pool there are a few low shrubs or trees, which are still cold in spring at the moment, and the trees have not bloomed, and there is not even a single spores.

On the sand, which is as soft as silver, there are several round stone benches, which are not high, and look like today's futon at a glance, but they are dark gray, and there is a color contrast with the fine sand.

This is the legendary dry landscape?

Yang Jian muttered in her heart.

He watched a CCTV documentary, and there was an episode in it that mentioned Japan. The art of dry landscape landscaping created by myself.

It's almost exactly the same as the picture in front of you.

It's just that I didn't expect that in the Tang Dynasty more than a thousand years ago, Master Mao Shun in Chang'an City had already played so well.

Looking at the house in front of me, it is all made of solid wood, small and exquisite.

Looking at the past, Yang Jian had the illusion for a moment that he should be in Nara, Japan or Kyoto at the moment.

"You may be seated."

Mao Shun pushed open the white paper wooden door of the inner room, walked in directly, sat on a futon, on the tea table, the hot water was still boiling, and a pot of tea that had been brewed was still bubbling with a strong tea fragrance.

Yang Jian noticed that Mao Shun had not worn shoes all this time.

However, it's not surprising to think about it, his yard is so special, the fine sand outside the house looks like a carefully selected fine sand, and someone must have sprinkled it with special sprinkling, otherwise how could it be so clean and new?

"Thank you."

Yang Jian respectfully took the teacup handed over by Mao Shun and thanked him.

"Aren't you surprised that the old man's courtyard is so clean?"

Mao Shun himself also picked up a cup of strong tea, his eyes looked at Yang Jian, but his gaze was much softer and warmer than just now.

"Yes, and the snow is still deep outside, why is the sand in Grandpa's yard not muddy at all?"

This is what Yang Jian has always wanted to ask.

The young sand in Mao Shun's yard was cleaner and more dry and refreshing than the sand by the sea where he had been before, but the snow had not melted outside.

"Guess what?"

Mao Shun did not answer Yang Jian's question directly, but had a smug look on his face.

"I guess?"

Yang Jian didn't think that the Mao Shun in front of her was such a Mao Shun, which was completely different from the gloomy and cold Mao Shun's painting style in the TV series.

The real Mao Shun seems to be a little naughty.

And old cute.

"Well, as long as you guess, the old man may consider granting your request."

Mao Shun has already made a big move.

"Really?"

When Yang Jian heard this, his heart moved.

Although he had already had Wang Yuangui's letter to the handwritten letter before he came, but, in terms of the temperament of the masters he knew, Mao Shun was categorically impossible to agree to his request because of a handwritten letter from Wang Yuangui.

"Of course."

Mao Shun put down the teacup and continued to refill the teacup that Yang Jian and he had just drunk.

"A word?"

When Yang Jian heard this, he felt that maybe this was an opportunity.

Immediately, I couldn't even feel the heat of the hot tea, so I picked up the teacup and walked to the courtyard.

"Of course."

Mao Shun's eyebrows didn't jump a bit.

The courtyard is still the same courtyard just now, but now in Yang Jian's eyes, it is no longer the courtyard that he just saw.

The fine white sand is fine.

Deadwood landscapes.

The courtyard is lonely.

Yang Jian heard the sound of the wind blowing in his heart.

It is cold in early spring.

The snow melted, but there was no trace here.

Yang Jian looked at the white sand under his feet.

But I didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

And what made Yang Jian feel even more weird was that the pond was also clear and clear, and the spring water was full.

Moreover, there are a few koi fish swimming freely.

Has this been forgotten by winter?

Yang Jian walked to the edge of the pond and reached into the pond.

The water temperature is just right.

It's not cold, it's not warm.

What's going on here?

Yang Jian suddenly fell into obsession.

Mao Shun didn't bother.

He drank tea in the house.

Yang Jian pondered outside the house.

"Who are you?"

While Yang Jian was concentrating, he didn't notice that a young man of his age walked behind him.

"I'm Yang Jian, who are you?"

Yang Jian didn't look back.

Because he didn't have to look back, he could see a fresh and clean face on the surface of the pond.

Warm.

White.

Clear eyebrows.

The painted eyes are the stroke of genius on the young man's face.

"My name is Akiri."

The young man's voice was as crisp as this pool of spring water.

"Autumn pears?"

When Yang Jian heard it, he felt that it was a good name, and it also reminded him of a pear tree planted by local villagers next to a pond next to the welfare home when he was a teenager.

"No, it's an autumn fence."

When the young man heard this, he smiled and corrected seriously.

"So, it's Autumn Fence?"

Yang Jian frowned slightly, and suddenly felt that his realm was still too low after all, compared to the autumn pears, the autumn fence seemed to have a more profound and secret artistic conception.

"Well, Qiu Li, but your name is simple."

The young man couldn't help but think of Yang Jian's name.

After speaking, he sat down directly beside Yang Jian.

"Yes, life should be simple."

Yang Jian burst out of his mouth a sentence that was extremely incommensurate with his age.

"You have a point ★, you're eight and a half years old, what about you?"

Qiu Liang sat beside Yang Jian, and the figures of the two teenagers were reflected in the water, clear and bright.

It is as if spring has come to the world in advance.

"I'm nine years old."

Yang Jian looked back for the first time, looked at the young man next to him, and smiled warmly.

"Well, then I should call you brother."

Qiu Li is not timid at all, and he is generous, especially his face that seems to be always smiling, so that people can never feel other seasons.

"Thank you, my mom."

Yang Jian laughed.

"Thank you, Mom?"

Qiu Li was a little confused, he turned his face sideways, and looked at the young man in front of him who had been talking to him that had always made him feel strange and curious.

"Yes, thank my mother for giving birth to me early, so that I have such a lovely brother as you."

Yang Jian said with a smile.

Yes, thank you, but where is she now?

Did she ever know if the son she gave birth to was dead or alive?

Did she care about herself?

She knew that she was an orphan in her previous life, and she was still an orphan in this life, struggling to make a living in a strange world like the Tang Empire, and facing the ups and downs of the world alone?

"But you're crying, brother."

Qiu Liang looked at Yang Jian, obviously seeing him laughing, but tears flowed from the corners of his eyes.

"It's okay, I'm happy."

Yang Jian suppressed her emotions.

He could not let this pessimistic despair engulf him.

"And have you figured out the answer to the question Grandpa gave you?"

Qiu Li asked.

"I know the answer."

After Yang Jian finished speaking, he got up from the ground, patted the sand stuck to his body, and walked towards Mao Shun's house with a smile on his face.

I played entertainment in the Tang Dynasty Latest Chapter 127 Dry Landscape Website: