It's not a tall mountain, and it's not very accurate to say it's a mountain, it's more like a hill. The trees on the mountain have basically lost their leaves, and this is not summer after all, but it is almost winter.

The setting sun shone on this mountain, it was listless, even if there was still a trace of sunshine, but it could not make people feel warm, and even a little chill. Occasionally, some wind blew, rolling up the leaves on the ground and making a rustling sound.

At this moment, the village below the mountain has already risen with cooking smoke, and it is time to eat. The farmers in the fields also carried their farm tools home, and under the sunset, they smiled and greeted each other, a picture of tranquility and tranquility.

The silence was broken by the sound of a loud reading, and under a pine tree halfway up the mountainside, there was a scholar in a robe with a delicate face, holding a book and reading diligently. Beside him, there was an old, simple bookcase.

After a while, Xu was a little tired of reading, the scholar dusted off the book, gently put the scroll back into the bookcase, and took out a bamboo flute made of green bamboo from the bookcase, stroked it with his hand, and put it to his mouth. Just as he was about to blow, he suddenly saw him slowly put down the bamboo flute, only to see him stand up, looking at the scene of people coming and going down the mountain, and suddenly sighed.

The scholar's name is Han Lin, and he is also from the village under the mountain. This village is called Qinghua Village, the village is not large, there are only about 80 people in total. Because there are few people, the neighbors are familiar with each other, and there is more or less a trace of kinship, so the life in the village is very harmonious.

"Father's ......"

Han Lin looked at the bamboo flute in his hand, and said silently in his heart, he was not a native of this village, this was told to him by Uncle Meng, who lived next door to him.

More than ten years ago, Han Lin's father came to settle in this village with him, who was not yet three years old at the time. If you don't get lifted, you will end up doing nothing in your life.

Fortunately, there were few scholars in this village, and the villagers respected his father very much, and worked together to build a mud house for his father. When the farm was not working, his father lived in a grass hut, and at the same time taught the village children to read and write in a private school, and then moved back to the mud house during the busy farming season.

When he was very young, Han Lin's father taught him to read and write, hoping that he would inherit his ambition and succeed in becoming an official in the imperial court. But Han Lin himself didn't like these books, but he had some achievements in painting and music, because of this incident, Han Lin was beaten by his father a lot when he was a child.

However, he was beaten, but Han Lin was still the same, he didn't like to read, and he would paint when he had the opportunity to paint. Over time, even his father no longer cared about him, but told him not to be smart but to be clever and mistaken, although he has a lot of intelligence, but he can't read and write, he can't take the imperial examination when he grows up, and how to be an official in the court. In this way, Han Lin also read some books. However, most of these books are books of interesting anecdotes, which are thousands of miles away from those books that are serious.

This situation has been maintained until last year, and it was also such a slightly cool day, Han Lin and his father suddenly did not catch their breath, and fell unconscious on the bed, and there was no medical treatment. In just a few days, he was skinny and skinny, and he lost his human form.

Han Lin stayed by the bedside for several days and nights, not daring to close his eyes until that afternoon. The old man, who had been unconscious, suddenly opened his eyes and touched Han Lin, his lips pursed, as if he wanted to speak, but he couldn't open his mouth, he could only desperately point to the bookcase on the wall, and then pointed at himself with his finger, and then pointed at Han Lin, and after Han Lin nodded, he slowly closed his eyes with a sigh of relief, and passed away gloomily......

In the winter of that year, Han Lin was studying poetry at home, and he knew what his father meant. His father hoped that he would be able to inherit his legacy, go to the examination for fame, and become an official in the imperial court. The people in the village helped him bury his father, and brought him some food and drink from time to time, so that Han Lin could survive the winter peacefully.

And Han Lin is worthy of his father's talent, although he only read poetry books for a period of time in winter, but in the spring of this year, he was selected for Xiucai.

"I'm going to Cangzhou tomorrow to get the Jinshi merit name, my father ......"

Han Lin clenched his fists and thought silently in his heart,

"I will definitely complete what you didn't do back then, win the top prize, become an official in the imperial court, and benefit the people. ”

"If you know, please bless the child. ”

Han Lin carefully put the bamboo flute back into the bookcase, which his father made for him with his own hands, and it was a birthday present when he was eight years old, in order to encourage him to aspire to the imperial examination and gain fame. The scholar's bookbox has four instruments, a piano, a sword, a book, and an umbrella, and their families are not very wealthy and cannot afford to buy a piano, so they can only replace it with this bamboo flute.

While putting the bamboo flute back into the bookcase, Han Lin's hand also touched a soft thing, and that soft thing still had strong hair. He frowned and took the thing out.

It was the fur of an unknown creature, pure black hair, without a trace of stray hair, soft and comfortable to the touch, and this fur seemed to be alive, Han Lin's hand could always feel a sense of impact when he touched it, it seemed to be the feeling of a heartbeat.

On the inside of the fur, that is, on the hairless side, someone wrote a few rows of words crookedly with a brush, although it is not very clear, but it can be recognized by careful identification,

"There are living beings in the ancient world, whose names are called Hao, and their bodies are ...... for thousands of miles."

"Between breaths, the world is turned upside down, and the stars are moving ......"

This fur was left by Han Lin's father, and it is said that he picked it up one day when he was wandering in the mountains, and he originally thought it was a waste fur that the hunter did not want after hunting, but when he looked closely, he found that there were words written on the fur.

Although it is some nonsense, and the handwriting is not very neat, but its writing is very majestic, just reading these few lines, you can feel a desolate and vast breath rushing to your face, making people instantly feel like they are in the middle of the great wilderness.

So Han Lin's father picked up this animal skin and took it with him, and he had to observe and look at it every day, hoping that he could also make such a majestic article, but after a few years, his article has not grown much, and the pattern is always too small.

After his death, the hide was passed on to Han Lin, who also regarded the unknown hide as a relic of his father, and cherished it in his bookcase and kept it with other scrolls.

Fortunately, the skin is also strange, it never stinks, but often emits bursts of fragrance, which makes people feel refreshed, and even the scrolls are contaminated with its fragrance.

"I'm going to the provincial capital tomorrow to participate in the unified examination, so let's see today's book first, and go back to pack up the things to prepare. ”

As he spoke, Han Lin picked up the bookcase, and his figure was stretched long and long in the afterglow of the setting sun......