The day before Qingming was a cold meal, Liu Zhengqing invited Chu Feng to his house for the holiday, but Chu Feng refused.

Cold food is a festival that will not be celebrated in later generations, and Chu Feng is not too embarrassed to go to other people's houses to disturb him, not to mention that Liu Zhengqing still has a wife at home, and the etiquette between men and women is there, so why bother to go to other people's houses to ask for comfort.

Chu Feng excused himself by going out for a stroll, but in fact, he was really a little excited, wanting to see the West Lake during the Qingming Festival.

I think that back then, when Xu Xian met the White Lady, it was the Qingming season of the broken bridge in West Lake. Can you meet any beauty?

During the Qingming Festival, it rained a lot, Chu Feng pushed the door and looked at the misty drizzle falling from the sky, somehow, he was in a somewhat comfortable mood, smiled slightly, held an umbrella, and walked with a lock.

The umbrella is an oil-paper umbrella, Chu Feng holds the umbrella, wandering alone in the long, long rainy alley, but he does not feel lonely.

Walking through the lively West Market, walking on the long street of cars and horses, Chu Feng slightly blamed himself, thinking that he had been here for a long time, how could he have been in the West Market all the time, and now, it was the first time he really walked to this Hangzhou city.

The atmosphere of the cold food is slightly cold, but it does not look bleak. Chu Feng stood at the corner of the street, watching the comings and goings of gorgeous clothes, the wandering figures, the lingering willow branches, the eaves and the corners, the pavilions and pavilions, and the thousands of horses and high teeth, and felt slightly shocked in his heart, and a little inexplicably moved.

He asked the direction of the West Lake, held an umbrella, and walked slowly, silently thinking about Liu Yong's "Wanghai Tide".

The southeast shape wins, the three Wu metropolises, and Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times.

That's what I'm talking about, this is the city of Hangzhou!

There are smoke willow painting bridges, wind curtains and green curtains, and there are 100,000 uneven homes. This is the prosperity of the city of Hangzhou.

There are also three autumn laurels, ten miles of lotus, and frolicking and fishing lotus babies. This is the fun of Hangzhou.

Not only that, here, there are also Qiang pipes to clear the sky, Lingge to the night, drunk listening to Xiao Drums, chanting and appreciating the elegance of the smoke.

This is the city of Hangzhou.

This is the city of Hangzhou in Liuyong.

It is a city of Hangzhou with different grandeur after a thousand years.

Chu Feng's heart was inexplicably fluctuating, and the tip of his nose was slightly sour. I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

Tossing and turning here, what a blessing for my life!

The spring rain is still falling on its own, occasionally hitting the hand holding the umbrella, fine and dense, itchy, very interesting.

Xishi is not far from the West Lake, only about half an hour's walk, Chu Feng asked for directions along the way, bought two oil cakes to eat, and after a while, he vaguely saw a thick moisture in the air, not real, but obviously the West Lake.

The fame of the Ten Scenic Spots of West Lake has been formed since the Southern Song Dynasty, and there is no such concept now, but it has become a good place for ordinary people to play and go out.

Today's cold food, there should be a lot of tourists to come to the green, but because of the drizzle, watered away a lot of people, the whole West Lake seems to be a little sparse.

Sparse but not deserted, there are people playing in the small pavilion next to the West Lake, and occasionally there are some lively drinking orders, the sound of Guan fluttering with the wind, and it is washed away by the rain in an instant.

The scenery of the south of the Yangtze River is always inseparable from the word "smoke". Cooking smoke, smoke and rain, smoke and clouds, this smoke is naturally not the smoke and dust of PM2.5 in later generations, but a kind of Taoist chic and ethereal taste. "Lao Tzu" said: The Tao is a thing, but it is in a trance. In a trance, there is an elephant in it. In a trance, there is something in it. The meaning of it is a kind of mirrored and ethereal Taoist core.

Therefore, the ancients liked smoke, especially the smoke in the landscape, especially in all kinds of landscape paintings, which is particularly obvious.

Just like before Chu Feng came to the Song Dynasty, he studied Fan Kuan's "Sitting Alone in the Stream", which is the highest level precisely because of the surging smoke and haze, and it cannot be learned without decades of exercises.

Chu Feng walked to a bridge, watched the smoke rise from the sky and the ground, and recalled the smoke in the painting "Sitting Alone in the Stream", and slowly became a little stunned.

Not far away, in a pavilion. The little girl Feibai looked at the scenery here, and couldn't help but cover her mouth and snicker.

"What are you laughing at?" Fan Qiubai is peeling a loquat fruit, the fruit is not fully ripe, the entrance is extremely sour, only peeling one can be eaten slowly for a long time.

"Look, little lady, I'm laughing at that person!" Feibai pointed at Chu Feng who was standing at the head of the bridge, and said with a smile, "That person looks stupid and stupid, and he doesn't know where he thinks or what, he doesn't move for a long time!" Little lady, you say, is he a fool? ”

Fan Qiubai stuffed the peeled loquat into Feibai's mouth at once, and scolded lightly: "You, you can't say good things in your mouth!" You don't want to think about it, that person is standing there stupidly, and you are looking stupidly here, and you don't know who is stupid! ”

Feibai was cracked by the sour teeth of loquat, and hurriedly took it with his hand, and said with a smile: "It's souring me!" You're so bad, little lady! ”

Although he said sourly, Feibai looked at the loquat in his hand and clicked his mouth, as if he had made up his mind, he took another bite and swallowed it in his stomach.

"Ahh It's sour! Acid to death! Acid to death! Sour teeth! ”

Feibai covered the cheek on the right and turned in a circle, Fan Qiubai and the servants next to him couldn't help laughing, and counted her down: "What kind of quirks does this little girl have, it's obviously sour, but she is hungry for this sour fruit, and it's hard for the little lady to buy it for you to eat!" ”

Fan Qiubai covered her mouth and couldn't stand up with a smile, and said coquettishly: "Feibai, this little girl, is funny and funny at this time." It's a good show! Don't look at it in vain, don't look at it! It's a big deal, let's buy all the sour loquat in Hangzhou back, so that Feibai can eat enough! ”

"Little lady, please spare me! That's enough for me to eat! In case the little maid is really soured to death, you won't have to eat a lawsuit! Feibai giggled and begged for mercy.

Everyone in the pavilion was happy.

This laughter flew out with the wind and reached Chu Feng's ears.

Chu Feng came back to his senses from the clouds in front of him in a trance, and subconsciously looked back, and saw six or seven women in the pavilion, and there were two carriages parked outside the pavilion, and it seemed that the girl of whose family was going on a leisurely trip.

As if he had a heart in his heart, Fan Qiubai also turned to Chu Feng at this time.

Clouds, broken bridges, teenagers, oil-paper umbrellas, looking back with a smile.

When you look at it, it's a painting.

Somehow, Fan Qiubai was slightly stunned, and his complexion gradually turned a slight flush.

The distance was a little far, and Chu Feng could only see that Fan Qiubai seemed to be looking at him, but he couldn't see the other party's expression clearly, so he smiled and saluted, and turned to leave.

I couldn't help but think silently in my heart, no wonder Gu Kaizhi likes to draw pictures of ladies, this woman in ancient times was graceful and beautiful, which was completely different from a thousand years later. It's not that you have to distinguish who is high and who is low, it's just that the elegant posture of sitting in such a pavilion is really a pity if it is not left by the picture scroll......

It's a pity that my pen power on the characters is insufficient, otherwise after I go back, I should really be able to draw it.

On the other hand, Fan Qiubai watched the young man in front of him gradually step into the clouds, and his heart also moved. I couldn't help but think to myself: I don't know whose young man it is, why is the charm so clear and sparse? The so-called smile can be included in the painting, what it refers to should be such a teenager! It's a pity that the family heirloom landscapes that I have been learning are not good characters, otherwise the act of looking back on Fang Cai, if it can be put into writing, what a beautiful painting it should be......

Both of them are thoughtful, thoughtful, and true, but unfortunately they don't know each other now.

Chu Feng thought of this, and was stunned. Fortunately, after a while, he saw more beautiful scenery, the beautiful scenery of West Lake spread out one by one, these scenery did not have as many artificial carvings as in later generations, they were all natural and simple, which couldn't help but make Chu Feng even more happy. Thinking of Dongpo's sentence "If you want to compare West Lake to Xizi, light makeup and heavy makeup are always appropriate", and those faint worries quickly dissipated.

Now the scene in front of me is the so-called "mountains are empty and rainy"!

The West Lake that you can see today is like a woman who is "still holding a pipa and half covering her face", covering a thin layer of gauze scarf, which makes people unable to see her true appearance, but it is wonderful enough to shock.

Chu Feng is a person who likes to hurt the spring and autumn, not because of the sissy, but because of his feelings.

The most basic element of art is "sentimentality". Without these two words, Du Gongbu couldn't write "Feeling the flowers splashed tears, hating the birds and frightening", Liu Sanbian couldn't write "The cicada is poignant, the long pavilion is late, and the showers are at the beginning of the break", Wang Yishao can't write "Lanting Collection Preface", and Huang Zijiu can't draw "Fuchun Mountain Residence Map".

Only when the perception of everything is integrated into the heart and turned into pen and ink can the joy in the heart be expressed. Therefore, sad spring is regarded as sentimental, and sad autumn is also sentimental. For artists and poets, this is not a bad thing, but a basic need.

Sentimental people must be amorous, just as the poet's private life is prone to ruin, precisely because there is too much beauty in their eyes that ordinary people cannot see. Of course, this kind of beauty is not only for the natural landscape, but also for the people around you.

Just as Su Shi is "not thinking about it and unforgettable", there is also a concubine Chaoyun who "has few willows blowing on the branches, and there is no grass at the end of the world". This is not because he is half-hearted, but because of his affection and affection.

Sentimentality and affection are the basic emotions that every artist must have, and life is rich and brilliant because of them.

Chu Feng is a sentimental person, so he can be in a quiet daze at a pool of smoky lake, and after a short glance, he can remember the beautiful and graceful shadow in his mind.

Stunned, if there is gain, in a trance.

Looking at the mountains and rivers of the West Lake, Chu Feng felt uneasy, and felt that his hands were a little itchy.

Itchy hands should be painted, and a little should be drunk.

Chu Feng hurriedly returned to the West Market, boldly took a pot of wine from a restaurant where the wine flag was obliquely stationed, returned to his own calligraphy and painting shop, drank two sips first, then spread the paper, polished the ink, picked up a long-edged rabbit shoulder Zihao, and dipped the ink tone extremely lightly, and then waved it.

It was already night after the painting was completed, Chu Feng drank heartily, took a step back and looked at the painting, and nodded with satisfaction. Then he threw the pen in his hand away at will, and slept in his clothes.