The second year of the Ming Dynasty in the Northern Song Dynasty. Pen ~ fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info October, about a touch of the weather, shrouded in the night will swallow the distant edges and corners of the blur, a few crows, cross-legged melons in the nearby branches of the ghost crying wolf.

The husband carried the dimly swaying old oil lamp, and struck the broken gong, and the shrunken shadow appeared and disappeared into the darkness; The slow, listless sound of gongs faded away in the wind.

The patrolling villagers on duty and the familiar old man were already acquaintances, and when they saw him coming, they were bored all night, and they couldn't help but gossip and talk about things that were out of tune.

"I heard that the prodigy of the old Fang family in Xitou has recently had a pox, and the whole family has been surrounded, have you gone to see it?"

"How many years have you never heard of it in your life, and he can still be called a prodigy now? When the father and son of the Wang family came to visit last year, they said that the baby is no longer good, and there is no hope for studying——"

"I also blame the old Fang family for spending all the money for the eldest son to marry, and the second child was pitted, listening to the father and son of the Wang family, this baby lost money and didn't invite a gentleman to study, and now, hey, it's also wasted."

"But it's strange to say, this kid has pox, but the family is fine, and he is also a big deal."

……

When I opened my eyes, I was the sad Comrade Fang Zhongyong, which really scared the little purity of the 21st century, who had been tested by novels for a long time.

That day, when he opened his eyes, his forehead was dripping, and in front of him was a long bamboo pole several feet long, with a strip of cloth on it, tied with a spoon, and it was reaching his mouth from a distant direction to feed him medicine.

He drank the spoonful of medicine with a strange gesture of trying to turn his lips into a catfish state, but he heard an exclamation, followed by a noise of waking up and waking up.

Looking sideways, a young woman with an indescribable figure was swinging a long rod to feed him medicine, and when she saw that he was awake, she hurriedly twisted her body and ran out without waiting for him to see what he looked like. After a while, the sound of footsteps outside rang out, surrounding a doctor with a white beard in the middle.

The doctor touched Fang Zhongyong's forehead, and said with a sigh of relief: "The kid has a big life, so it should be fine." ”

The seven aunts and eight aunts in the crowd with tears in their eyes just came out of the distant crowd circle and extended warm and sincere care and greetings to Comrade Fang Zhongyong.

After the old village chief presided over the rest of the affairs, the crowd gradually dispersed, and Fang Zhongyong found the biological parents of this body, as well as the brother who looked quite similar to him, and the sister-in-law whose figure was suspected of being indescribable.

Fang Niang stepped forward and sat beside Fang Zhongyong, holding Zhong Yong's hand with tears in her eyes, with a sad expression, and said sincerely: "Son, you are fine, if you have something, which one can I still rely on?" ”

Father Fang also stepped forward and grabbed Fang Niang, the wrinkles on his face twitched one by one: "kid, what are you doing with all this?" In front of the two of them, why don't you say this. ”

Fang Niang glared at the eldest son and daughter-in-law standing below, but she couldn't help but say nothing.

Brother Zhongyong glanced at the empty room below, a square table of squeaky lacquered wood, a few bamboo chairs covered with dark blue cloth cushions, and a rickety old elm cabinet, and a bed that clicked when he moved.

However, on the opposite wall, there is an extremely unsuitable environment, a whole row of Xiangfei bamboo bookshelves that seem to be handmade and homemade, and they are full of expensive bamboo bookshelves.

What surprised him even more was that the bamboo books on the shelves, which were purely a luxury for peasant families, were all torn coarse cloth sheets, and the categories were written in delicate brush characters, from poultry and honey to Buddhist scriptures - all kinds of miscellaneous books - and all idle books.

Seeing this, Fang Zhongyong naturally combined the historical background and context to deeply understand and understand the situation and personality of his own master, but he was still firm, listened to the call of his heart, and made the most sincere call in his heart: "Mother——, I'm hungry, I want to eat meat-"

……

Stepping into the ridge of the countryside, the crops have been harvested, although it is the south, the weather is still good in October, but after all, it is not the boundary of three crops a year, Jinxi this place, in the tenth month of the lunar calendar, is somewhat of the depression of late autumn and early winter.

The autumn sun basks on the dry gray earth and stone blue walls, and the tiles on the field houses blend in with the craggy ground in the soft light, and the wind is fierce in the evening.

Fang Zhongyong took a breath of air with the smell of history, and the smoking addiction in his previous life was slightly attacked.

However, there were no cigarettes in the Northern Song Dynasty. I remember that in a certain forum, everyone was also excited, and the heroes of Liangshan took a sip and smoked. Now that I'm here, I don't want to be a young man.

"Hey, that's not the second baby of the Fang family, hey, second child, come here-" A square-faced young man with a thin body and a big head beckoned to him happily. Behind him was a little Lori with a goose egg face and big eyes, jumping up and down, with a happy face.

When Fang Zhongyong walked over, little Lori was already happily tugging at his sleeve, and looked at him with a smile and said, "Brother prodigy, let's go write poems and exchange books." ”

"Huh?" Fang Zhongyong was slightly stunned and said, "This, how do you say it?" ”

"Chai Daguan's family is going to celebrate his little son's birthday again, the prodigy brother is going to write poems to congratulate and congratulate, my brother and I will help you steal the book-" Little Lori blinked her eyes, suddenly smiled again, and changed her words, "Oh no, stealing books-"

Looking at the starry eyes of Little Lori and her friends, Fang Zhongyong's child's body couldn't help but be agitated by the childlike style. So the three of them got together, sang songs, and greeted the morning at eight or nine o'clock in the morning, oh no, it was the warm sun of the hour, so one foot deep and one foot shallow, and walked to the house of the official Chai Daguan.

When they got there, obviously because they were regular visitors and villagers, the door gods who were inconvenient to stop showed impatient disdain, but they still let them in to send poems and blessings. Fang Zhongyong casually pinched a five-word poem and waved it on the paper, then signed his name, and walked forward without looking back.

After staying in the garden, the three of them went around to the study of the son of the Chai family.

Tsk, it's really broad, a squire's study, but the atmosphere of Chinese culture looks at the 21st century intellectuals who killed a lot of water in seconds.

The large and wide bookshelf is stacked on two walls, covered with a velvet blue cloth cover, unfolded and looked, wow, everything is everything, is this really just a squire and a tyrant?

On the large and wide desk, there are neatly stacked printed books, a letter is packed with a line, Songyang's carved ink inkstone, and the lake pen is large and small.

Next to the desk, there is an ebony round table with a two-foot-high natural crystal mountain, which is elegant and clear, engraved with Liu Gongquan's rubbing inscription, and next to it is also placed a wooden two-masted sailing ship model more than five inches long, which is delicate and simple.

What made Fang Zhongyong happiest was naturally the big copper bed with white bedding next to him.

What a local tyrant. He couldn't help but secretly say in his heart, the copper coins of the Northern Song Dynasty are the mainstream of currency, and this rich copper bed is not just a bed of RMB? Oh no, is it a bed for one yuan? Moreover, I still have to sleep in a RMB bed in the study...... Gee......

Just as he was looking east and west, he saw Lori and his partner, who had already climbed up and down and rummaged up, turning over and muttering: "Why aren't you here?" ”

"What are you looking for?" Fang Zhongyong asked suspiciously. While asking, I thought, the working people are really simple, and there are so many valuable things that go wrong, what the hell is this going by?

Before the little Lori could speak, a few stout dog-legged family members outside the door had already come out with a little young master in a gorgeous brocade robe, and the little young master had the general look of a bear child on his face, laughing, and the three people who were surrounded by the family took a look one by one, and then smiled: "Old rule, hang up, fight-"

The middle-aged man in the housekeeper's shirt next to him frowned slightly, and said in a deep voice: "Young master, they are all Sven people, and they are exquisite, why bother?" ”

"Sven?" The young master of the Chai family suddenly pushed a pile of books on the table into a mess, and then pulled a dozen pieces of paper with words written from below, threw them in front of Fang Zhongyong and the others, and swept the little faces of the three of them with a gaze that was not pleasing to the eye from top to bottom.

Fang Zhongyong didn't say anything, only bowed down and picked up those pieces of paper from the bluestone brick floor, some of them had been yellowed, obviously for a few years, all of them were congratulatory poems that Fang Zhongyong came to greet every year, starting from the first time he came to congratulate him on his birthday when he was four years old, and it continued every year.

Looking at the past, as the later Wang Jinggong said, there is no growth, and the years are empty.

A sense of humiliation suddenly floated in his heart, a feeling of humiliation that was one with this body.

In this era of extreme pursuit of cultural cultivation, the whole people worship writers, non-professional backgrounds have no way to worship the prime minister, and non-Donghua roll calls have no intention of glorifying their ancestors. It can be imagined that a person like Fang Zhongyong, who was once a prodigy, but eventually became a waste of wood, is so humiliating in his life.

But how wrong is he? As a farmer, his parents did not have such a long-term vision, nor did they have the economic strength for him to study, and whether a young son studied or not, compared with the eldest son's starting a family and starting a business, was really incomparable to the rural areas of the Great Song Dynasty thousands of years ago.

After all, the road to the imperial examination was made with copper coins and silver.

However, he is Fang Zhongyong, who became famous at a young age, and he is the only laughing stock in the brilliant prodigy worship culture of the Northern Song Dynasty.

The young master of the Chai family naturally saw the reaction on Fang Zhongyong's face, and the smile on his lips carried a kind of contempt.

Then he said, "Sven? Is he a showman? Will he be able to make it? Did he have a talent for poetry? A stinky little peasant, how can he talk about Sven? ”

Once again, the family pounced.

"Slow-" Fang Zhongyong suddenly shouted, and the voice carried an aura that did not match his identity and age, which made everyone feel a little at a loss for a while.

"Bring me pen and ink—" he commanded again.

Everyone looked at each other, and just then persuaded the little young master's Chai family's housekeeper Nunuzui, and the family next to him hurriedly brought the pen and ink to Fang Zhongyong.

Fang Zhongyong leaned down his fourteen-year-old body, drooped one big head, held the pen, hung the pen and licked the ink, and waved it endlessly.

He wrote for a short time, and everyone around him was curious about his behavior and the fame of the prodigy, but anyone who knew a few words was eager to stretch their necks out of the giraffe to see what this abolished prodigy was writing about.

The little Lori next to her with a pair of big black eyes also stared at her round eyes, dragging the children's voice of the old elder with a cute and cute tail word by word, and read out the first ones, or the words that Brother Zhongyong taught her one by one:

Wound - Zhong - Yong -