The sound waves stop rhyming, and the figure pours in.

A wave has not settled, and another wave has risen.

Qin, chess, calligraphy and painting, ranked first.

The tune played by this is rarely known in Chu Shui Country. Knowing that such a tune makes people fall into a soft and seductive color, it does not prevent the music from being extraordinary, and people playing it are even more extraordinary.

At first, the song resembles the flow of a river, giving people a sense of free respite, so the old fisherman on the boat reaches out and touches the pole to find a fixed time to get down the net to catch the fish. The palm of his hand touched the pole with water mist, and the water droplets flowing up the torrent slid down the straw sandals on his feet. Swinging his bony and changeable body, the wrist tendons burst out, grabbed the grids, and sprinkled them in the air.

At this time, the fishing fire slept against the lamp, and under the moonlight, the delicate end of the small boat race and the ship totaled.

Moonlight Star Net, falling into the water.

The rolling waves make the hull of the boat keep moving. The little bamboo that was about to move was in the moonlight, and this sense of respite stayed in the hull of the boat, the roots of the ears were slightly red, and the hands were slightly urging, and the moonlight was chanting poetry, and there was a sense of leisure.

The little woman who went straight to the stern of the boat smiled at the blue waves.

Sweet, green, pure.

His eyebrows froze, his eyes fell into the dust, and he raised his fingers to pick up the delicate bamboo leaves in the air. The quiet crickets in the distance chirped, the stars and moon hung behind became a curtain, the old man showed a kind finger, a soft fish was pulled in the hull of the boat, under the arc of the blue waves, there is a poem:

The silver moon hangs on the tip, and the frost falls to drink.

The flower girl is transformed into an empty crossing.

A secret through the ages, the boat spits out the stars.

Qin sleeps in a dream, washes and cleans his hair.

It was noisy like rain, and another wave came before it was near, and the sound gradually sounded, and some people didn't know what to do. When I listened with my eyes closed, I couldn't help but tense my hands. I saw young people holding sword scabbards in their hands, their eyebrows were slightly upturned, their mouths were chapped, and they looked at the souls under the moon fiercely.

He had a white cloth tied around his arm, his palms wrapped around him, and he spat out a puff of smoke from his mouth, which rolled into a small nest and swirled.

Wonderful light rain falling.

Rival with a sword in the rain.

The smell of blood in the air is strong, the thick earthy feeling, and the steps are compact and powerful. The hats on the heads of young people swayed in the wind. Pick your hands behind your back and slip off your rain-proof coat. One person faced several people, and then a sword light came, rolling up a move that was still under the tree.

A figure raised his sword and walked through the crowd, not caring about the difference in numbers, and even a little amused.

The young man had a small shield in his hand, and he only defended and did not attack.

As the so-called:

The rain and spring breeze do not know the face, and the dance and shadow become sword water.

Whoever enters the country becomes a Taoist system, one plant and one leaf is blue.

A rain rolled up from the sky fell into the room, and the swords behind him were raised, and words came out of their mouths. Facing the thousands of troops and horses in front, his mouth showed a Zen style, and the fireworks in his hands were not broken.

The old man has a round hat and cheekbones and a sword body.

Pulling out the scabbard of the sword against the coming people and horses, throwing it out with the wind, the tail end of the sword shadow, the water vapor thrown out, tightly holding a heat wave, rolling up the fallen leaves under the tree, the branches have not fallen, and the people go first. A small swordsman who landed on the side drew his sword and paused for a while, and as the former's footsteps moved with the wind, the wooden hilt flicked with his arm, and an unprecedented wave of water swept across his neck.

Blood stains the world red, and the flesh turns into bones.

In the distance, thousands of troops and horses roared, and the soldiers who came one after another fought in their hands, and they were full of energy.

Heaven and earth were hazy into a stream of blood and water, turning into a thousand skies, and a tree, a leaf, and a flower were haired. The hooves of the coming war horses did not stop, crossing the barriers, crossing a shade of trees, and crossing the bridge by water.

The rain did not stop, and the sword was not sheathed.

The road was flat but hidden, and gradually the sound of the piano was tight, and the rain was heavier.

It poured down, and the horses and chariots were reduced to bones when they died.

......

Between heaven and earth, a voice echoed.

Countless people stood up and said a sentence in their mouths: "Swordsman, the sword does not stop, it is not a pity to die." ”

The voice came from a man who was holding a sword in his hand, and the sword had not returned to his heart. Then one person after another heard it, and then spoke, drawing his sword out of his body. It spread to a town, a country, a region, and a world......

There was a small stream of water in the place in which a body that was not breathing was floating. His armor was shattered, and his hair was scattered. The sword in his hand was stained with blood, and he stood up sharply.

The sound of this piano is full of charm, as if it makes people come back from the dead and rejuvenate their hearts, but the sword in his hand can't be held, his footsteps can't be pulled big, and his heart gradually calms down.

He gasped in the rain, breathing in the breath of nature.

The sweet and delicious rain is refreshing.

The sound of the piano is tactful and melodious, with a dark energy, the dark energy is like a small dragon out of the water, the dragon soars and the tiger leaps, and the delicate bamboo sound is touched one after another, accompanied by the dew of the dust, holding up a small water world.

This is an eleven-beat repertoire, one more ruthless than the other, starting with joy, moving to gentleness, and then sadness.

One shot, the autumn air is refreshing to see the sun and the moon.

Two beats, startled waves, sand rolls waves.

Three beats, the clouds are thousands of miles chaotic waveform.

Four beats, the sky red finch chirps and flies.

Five beats, Honghu is auspicious.

Six beats, the flat water is far away.

Seven beats, the sword fights for Mo Iron Blood.

Eight beats, Mizuki barley to kill the star.

Nine beats, roaring and killing thoughts and fighting the sea of blood.

Ten beats, set into the TD sleeper.

Eleven beats, the red boat racer travels far away.

As soon as the tune stopped, the storyteller in front of the attic opened his eyes and smiled inexplicably. He heard the melodiousness of the track, as if he was extremely nostalgic, and listened to it a second time. I can hear the mixed water, and I can also hear the tenderness in it, and the uneven bumps in it.

The road is continuous, that is, the killing intent is condensed in it, and the scene of the transformation is a little too fast, gentle, and quiet The sword battle that suddenly came out, when have you seen the tranquility of a sword and a sword, I haven't heard of it for a long time. Only the tranquility is neither humble nor arrogant, and does not stop......

He muttered:

"Hongqin, good. It is to kill people without blinking, and to intoxicate people without leaving any mercy. ”

"It's not very good to see something and see something red, and it's not too good to be the same as what I chose. ”

.....

The wonderful sound of the piano stopped.

Out of a charming old Taoist man, he held a red piano in his hand, and there were small grooves on it, on which were the fingerprint marks he pressed on. His cheekbones bulged, his eyes were black and white, and he sometimes reached out to touch his white beard, this was the most immortal Taoist Li Shuishan had ever seen.

The only thing that is not worthy is a round bead on the neck, and the red rope is hanging.

His smile has a touch of charm that does not belong to mortals, not like a woman, like a refreshing, safe, and confident in the world between heaven and earth.

He stretched out his palm, and there was a small bead in his palm, which was printed with a peach blossom, but in a dream, when to see the peach blossom again, there was a little boy sitting on the peach blossom mark. The little boy had no spirituality, his eyes were like wooden carvings, and he sat peacefully in his hands.

It seems to be thinking, and it seems to be looking at the direction of the west.

"I knew you were coming. He spoke.

Li Shuishan asked, "Why do you have to let me come?" It seems that I am the only one who can hear this voice. ”

There was a melody still fluttering in the air, and the motive of the melody stayed by his side for a long time, waiting for an opportunity. When Li Shuishan looked at him, he got into his ears and a voice echoed, "Come here, come here......

The wooden beads in the old Taoist's hand floated up gently and fell into Li Shuishan's hand. Mu Zhu was a little cold, but it was like a spring wood raining, falling a flash, blooming in his hands and blending into his hands.

The bamboo in front of the door is constantly swaying, and the movements are elegant and quiet.

The old Taoist was dressed in a red robe, and the woman stopped in the attic on the second floor, dragging a long sleeve, and the five of them gathered. Red gauze Manro, stepping on the air waves, standing in the corner of the table. They exhaled a mouthful of aroma that created a small atmosphere, with the sound of wind chimes. Hearing it, the long ancient road, an exotic old man with a guqin, bites a dry naan in his mouth and drinks turbid water.

It's like a foreign visitor, but it doesn't blend in with this space in the slightest, and there is a natural tacit understanding with the whole temple.

Only that piece of red has become a drainage gardenia, and red has become a sea of blood. Let the old Taoist priest have some surprises in his heart, and let Li Shuishan have some calmness. kept shaking his body, watching the old Taoist sitting cross-legged on it, holding the red qin in his hand, and his eyes were red.

Li Shuishan stretched out his palm, and there was a wooden bead mark in his palm. Raising his head, he was a little frightened in his heart, but the old Taoist gradually disappeared from his eyes.

"When you see a dream in the mountains, why do you need to see a guest. Have you seen anything in that mountain? ”

"Actually, I want to know, too. ”

Li Shuishan was silent.

......

The storyteller saw this scene, sighed, and said:

"It's time for us to go. ”

Li Shuishan touched the mark on his palm, slowed down for a while, and spat out a breath of hot air into the air, really feeling that this old Taoist was different. A red piano in one hand, plus a small broken word. A few delicate women beside him, holding tenderness and not messing up at all.

He hurried out.

The storyteller looked at the attic with disgust, and this Li Shuishan walked out of the door directly, without the slightest obstruction. A few people behind him still wanted to go in to take a look, but they were stopped by the storyteller, several red, yellow and blue flags were next to the tree, and there were tears on the statue of this Taoist priest.

Li Shuishan looked at the storyteller and didn't know what to say.

"Green mountains and green waters, the sun and the moon flow.

You don't see me, I don't see you. When they see me, then I may have to leave. ”

"Sir, when are you leaving?" the storyteller was looking at the grinning old Taoist inside, and she was nodding at the storyteller. But there was a small wine table next to the two of them, plus a bowl of peanuts.

Li Shuishan asked knowingly, maybe at this time, the storyteller would be separated from them when he left the temple, but the storyteller opened his mouth and said, "After the nameless city." ”

Li Shuishan was very happy in his heart, there is still a period of time to get along, although they can't go to the capital together, in this interval, he can still learn some more things from the storyteller.

It's a rise in some insight, and there is no difference.

See the small bamboo blowing in the wind and rain.

The oil lamp smoked the statue of the Taoist silently wept.

........

The old woman asked, what is a mountain, and what is in a mountain. The first Li Shuishan had already answered, but he didn't answer the second question, and the old Taoist didn't want to hear the result, what he asked was his Dao heart. But he is not yet calm, and his Dao heart is not small enough to be complete, so he needs to rely on his own strength to experience all the way. Body, mind....