Chapter 533: Half a day's leisure

Calligraphy is no better than others, talent is important, but it must also be practiced diligently to achieve success. Zhang Zhi of the Eastern Han Dynasty wrote a book in the pool, the pond water was black, Wang Xizhi of the Jin Dynasty followed suit, practiced hard all his life, washed the water of the inkstone, also dyed five or six pools, and his son Wang Xianzhi, exhausted the eighteen vat of clear water, before he got the reputation of being comparable to his father.

Now, Monk Zhiyong has proved the simple truth of perseverance and perseverance with practical actions, which is the secret of calligraphy for thousands of years.

After turning around twice before retreating from the pen mound, Han Rui continued to play in the temple accompanied by Han Rui and the novice, and looked at the Daxiong Treasure Hall, the Dharma Hall, and the Meditation Hall, and walked along the long wings on both sides of the temple to the back mountain, ready to watch the Zijing Mountain Pavilion and the inkstone pond.

Celebrity monuments, naturally eye-catching, to visit, naturally not only Han Rui and his party, there are a lot of tourists who come to admire, but because of the Yongxin Temple is wide, there are many places to play, everyone's interests are different, although there is a bit of noise, but it is not so crowded.

Especially the ten peaks of Qinwang Mountain, the forest spring is beautiful, the scenery is like a painting, a Yexi meanders through, the eyes are full of verdant, the flowing water is murmuring, accompanied by the sound of birds, Xi Xi blows through, the fragrance that comes to the bursts is very pleasant.

"During the Song Dynasty of the Six Dynasties, the great xiǎo Xie Zeng boated in the Yexi, and the poem was engraved on the side of the Gutan Tree in the Zijing Mountain Pavilion, and the poem was engraved on the side of the Gutan tree...... "xiǎo Shami's dedication to the introduction.

Han Rui nodded while walking to the lonely pool, the pool is not big, and it is not very deep, but it is crystal clear, occasionally a few xiǎo fish swim by, drawing a few circles of bo lines on the water surface, dàng ripples at the bottom of the layer, bo sparkling like this.

As for the poem engraved on the tree, Han Rui glanced at it twice, and made sure that it was made by Xie Lingyun, so he turned around and left, without much interest, after all, he was not stupid, how to look at it, the age of this tree was not more than fifty years old, how could the words on it be left by Xie Lingyun two or three hundred years ago.

As for Zijing Mountain Pavilion, washing inkstone pond and the like, the place may be that place, but after several wind and rain, I don't know how many times it has been renovated, and if the water of the pool is a living spring, it is no matter how much ink is purified, how can it still be like ink dyeing, about this, many people know it, but they are too lazy to expose it.

After all, everyone came here just to feel the culture of the sages, as for the authenticity of the monuments, as long as it is not too fake, everyone will also close their eyes, close their eyes, and know it in their hearts.

Anyway, when he arrived at the destination, Han Rui was not in a hurry, enjoying the beautiful scenery of the mountain temple until noon, he returned to the temple, used vegetarian food, and returned to the wing room xiǎo to rest.

In the afternoon, Xiǎo Shami came to the wing room, ready to lead Han Rui to continue to tour the landscape of the temple, when he suddenly saw the servant packing his luggage, he couldn't help but feel strange, and wondered: "This son, who are you?" ”

"Alas, I wanted to stay in the temple for a few more days and ask the abbot for advice on Buddhism, but I was entangled in mundane things...... Han Rui shook his head and sighed, as if he had an unspeakable hidden appearance.

He nodded clearly, naturally he couldn't force Han Rui to come down, and after a few polite words, he sent them out, and when he arrived at the main hall, Han Rui took a few more pillars of incense, worshiped the Buddha, and added a sum of sesame oil money, and then left briskly.

It's only been a few xiǎo hours, and the monk has a little impression of Han Rui, and asked xiǎo Shami, after knowing what is going on, he also feels a little regretful, after all, judging from the two sesame oil money before and after, this noble son has a generous shot, if he stays for a few more days, when he says goodbye, wouldn't the offering be more rich.

Shaking his head slightly, the monk sent Xiǎo Shami to clean the chamber and wait for the new pilgrims.

He obeyed the order and left, but after a while, he hurried back and said urgently: "Uncle Shi, that son just now left a poem on the wall of the wing room. ”

"It's okay, he won't come in two days, and if he doesn't come, he will sprinkle water and wash it off." Zhike monks are very calm, for this kind of thing, it is no wonder, after all, the literati who come to admire it, have such a move, every corner of the temple, are full of poems and songs, etc., often bothered the monks in the temple to clean.

"I don't know how to be considerate." The monk muttered: "I don't have any self-knowledge, and I dare to leave poems here, don't you know that it is difficult to clean...... I'm stunned to do something, don't go quickly. ”

Hearing the scorn of the monk Zhike, Xiǎo Shami was a Ji Ling, and hurriedly responded, ready to retreat.

"Wait......" The monk thought about it, and after many years of experience, he was vaguely aware that Han Rui's demeanor was not as good as ordinary people, so he asked more: "How is the poem?" ”

"This ......" xiǎo is in trouble and doesn't know how to answer.

"Forget it." The monk waved his hand, knowing that the novice was not highly learned, and he did not know how to appreciate the good or bad of the poems, in the afternoon, the sun was blazing, and there were few pilgrims who went up the mountain to worship the Buddha.

After walking a few steps, he came to the wing room, and the monk raised his eyes to look around, except for two ordinary calligraphy and paintings on the wall, the other places were blank, and he did not find the poems that Xiǎo Shami said.

"Where is the poem?" The monk frowned, subconsciously suspecting that Xiǎo Shami was playing nong himself.

ǎo Shami hurriedly said: "On the wall next to the couch." ”

Misunderstanding, the monk nodded, lifted the curtain, walked in, looked to the left, and sure enough, he found a few lines of words written on the wall.

It seems that I have seen it somewhere, at first glance, the monk did not think about it, and recited the poem lightly: "I was drunk all day long, and I suddenly heard that Chun was trying to climb the mountain, because of the words of the monks in the bamboo courtyard, he stole half a day of ......leisure."

Next to him, he found that after the monk read the poem, he was silent for a long time, and there was no response for a long time, xiǎo Shami felt melancholy in his heart, and asked in a voice: "Uncle Shi, how is this poem, do you want me to wash it away with water." ”

"What, wash away...... Sin, sin. The monk was very moved, even proclaimed the Buddha's number, and said solemnly: "Quick, go and tell the abbot that there is a great talent in the temple...... No, I will go and say to the abbot, stay and wait, and do not touch anything in the house, especially this poem......"

Looking at the excited and busy Zhike monk, Xiǎo Shami was confused, and asked in a low voice: "Why?" ”

After a while, Xiǎo Shami was surprised to find that under the guidance of the Zhike monk, the abbot of Zhicai, as well as several monks in charge of the courtyard, came with a look of surprise.

"Abbot ......" xiǎo Shami hurriedly stepped forward to salute.

The monk bowed slightly, waved his hand to let Xiǎo Shami retreat to the side, and walked to the front of the couch with everyone in a few steps to watch the poem.

“…… Stealing half a day's leisure. The discerning monk tasted it carefully, and felt more and more that this sentence was full of Zen, and couldn't help but exclaim: "Good poetry, meaningful, its life is like floating, floating like a dream, half a day of leisure is the most rare." ”

Floating life for half a day, because of the bamboo courtyard to meet the monk's words, this sentence is deeply Zen, a few monks read, how can there be no harmony of the truth, for a while, naturally is jiāo mouth praise.

Who is the author of this poem? How did not leave a name. The discerning monk asked, but he was convinced.

The monk hurriedly said: "The title of the book on the merit book is the prince of Yangzhou." ”

Those who were ordered to come to inquire about the news, Han Rui naturally did not leave his real name, so as not to be truthful.

There are many people with the surname Wang in Jiangnan, and it is also one of the big names in Yangzhou, only by the surname, it is natural that the identity of the poet cannot be determined, and the monk is naturally a little regretful, so he turned around and carefully learned about Han Rui's words and deeds in the temple from Xiǎo Shami, and when he heard that he was interested in the calligraphy of Zen Master Zhiyong, he couldn't help but feel a little more hopeful.

"I am entangled in trivial matters for a while, and I am in a hurry, and after solving everything, I should come again."

"It's possible." A monk said: "A person who can write such good poems is definitely not an idle person, maybe he is a great talent in Yangzhou." ”

The monk molicked his head and said softly: "I am about twenty years old, and I am talented in Yangzhou...... I only know one, but the surname is Han. ”

Ahem, a group of people stopped talking, it's really hard to answer.

At the right time, the Zhike monk also knew that he had said the wrong thing, and he couldn't compare an unknown Xiǎo genius in Yangzhou with a world-famous great scribe, and there was no comparison between the two.

In order to resolve the embarrassment, the monk turned sideways, made a gesture of appreciation, and said to himself: "Not to mention the Zen in the poem, the more I look at this word, the more I feel...... Good students are familiar. ”

"This word ......" A monk looked back and was immediately surprised: "It really looks like when I saw it." ”

When everyone heard the sound, they looked at it carefully, and the monk blinked, and immediately reacted, and exclaimed: "This is Senior Brother Yu's brushwork." ”

"Yu ...... It is indeed similar to the penmanship of the Shinan monks. Several monks took a closer look and agreed.

"Not only that, but also three points of verve." The discerning monk affirmed, quite a bit of an unexpected surprise, after all, he was the same as Yu Shinan, and when he saw someone whose words were similar to his, he subjectively left a good impression.

"Not bad, not bad......" Several monks nodded again and again, but they didn't think there was anything strange, after all, Yu Shinan's reputation was far and wide, and he was a calligrapher in the world.

A few people enjoyed poems and words here, and there was no intention of leaving, and at this time, a xiǎo monk walked in and said softly: "Presiding, Gongzi Xie is here." ”

Oh, this is a big benefactor, it seems to be a professional habit, the eyes of the monk suddenly lit up, and he took the initiative to say: "Abbot, I'll go to greet you." ”

"Well, don't be slack." The monk nodded, paused, and said: "By the way, Gongzi Xie likes poetry and writing, and after he enters the incense, you might as well invite him to come and enjoy this wonderful work." ”

The monk went in response, and after half an hour, he returned with a young man, who was wearing a Confucian robe, his eyes were like starlight, very clear and handsome, his manners were extremely elegant, his eyebrows were smiling, making people like Mu Chunfeng, he was really an inexhaustible elegant and elegant, graceful and suave, everyone saw people, and couldn't help but secretly praise in his heart, what a beautiful son.

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