The child stared at the dark eyes, and his small face was delicate. didn't squeak, just tightly clutched the corner of Old Master Meng's clothes.

Old Master Meng sighed: "It's really a sin, such a young child is no one to teach and no one cares, if it weren't for the old man's feet to be saved quickly, I'm afraid he would have become a ghost under the car." The old man came in a hurry, and he didn't care much about the things ahead

The old man hesitated for a moment, and then said: "This child is from Anqing, Han Ling, you can take him back in a while and find relatives for him." If you can't find it, send it back to the old man, and it will be considered a good fate. ”

Han Ling stood up and agreed. The child was indifferent, his eyes did not turn, he just looked at the hall, and he did not know who he was looking at.

The students below are naturally full of compliments, and the Tao is that the master is kind-hearted, and if he accumulates virtue by doing good, he will be blessed by heaven.

The old man didn't pay attention to these unnutritious words, just frowned, made a group in all directions, and apologized: "It's the old man's fault for intruding on the classroom to occupy Chenguang." ”

As he spoke, he took out a wooden ruler, and it actually came to his hand, and the snap was extremely loud.

Old students are used to this, but some people who have come for a relatively short time are frightened by the hand board that is not false at all. For a while, no one in the school dared to say much, only the sound of the wind outside the window.

Han Ling was also shocked, only that this old master was really strict with himself, and he would never be reluctant to do things.

Old Master Meng sent someone to take the child to the side room to wait, dusted off his sleeves and stepped forward, and said in a loud voice: "Prepare the paper and pen, today Linliu Xinbei and the sick post." ”

The students were grinding ink and laying paper below, and when the master and the others were quiet, they explained in detail the origin story of this example. It turned out that Liu Xin was born in 329 years of Daqi, and he was one of the calligraphers in the first 500 years. His people were not respected at the time, but later it was discovered that his character was a big standard and could be used for enlightenment, which slowly spread. Liu Xin's stele is the epitaph written by Liu Xin himself, and the post during his illness is the miscellaneous thoughts written by Liu Xin when he was seriously ill in his later years.

While making his rounds around, Master Meng told the story of Liu Xin's life and the essence of his copying. With steady steps, the dark cloud pattern embroidery of the gray robe flashed under the rain and sunny sun, and this wealth and glory were really hidden under the ancient well.

Liu was appointed as the governor of Liangzhou...... Benevolent...... He often warned others not to feel sorry for himself and pity himself in his old age, and he died in the early winter of 452. ”

Han Ling took the pen, carefully and cautiously put down the pen, compared it with the extended words issued by Master Meng, and gently erased the word "willow" on the yellow paper.

Old Master Meng said slowly: "The pen body is suspended, and the wrist is turned hard...... Meng Ju, wrong. ”

The one who was named took a piece of paper and wrote the word "today" on "today".

However, Old Master Meng glanced at it and said hatefully: "It's wrong again!"

Meng Ju hurriedly read the words, but the words were about to be wrong, and he was so bitter in his heart that he was over!

Sure enough, Old Master Meng said with a straight face: "Hand!"

The slender-eyed young man stretched out his hand with a bitter expression, and was greeted by a heavy ruler.

"Whew" the boy howled miserably.

"Remember it longer! What's wrong with the big house? Your father entrusted you here, but he didn't let you play around every day!"

Meng Ju said hatefully: "Yes!"

Old Master Meng narrowed his eyes and said, "What?"

The young man was as honest as a quail waiting to be slaughtered, and he craned his neck and did not dare to look up.

Han Ling didn't have time to watch the excitement, his wrist strength was small, his pen was not smooth, and he was cautious about the stele. When the word "nine" of "three hundred and twenty-nine years" was written, Old Master Meng had already circled from behind and approached him.

I had just witnessed the supreme authority of the master, and when I heard the footsteps slowly approaching, I felt a little nervous in my heart, and as a result, I was even slower to write.

Old Master Meng looked at the side face of this doll, half sunny and half shadowy, the corners of his mouth were tightly pursed, and he was as smart and lovely as a boy under the fairy seat. There is a faint mark under his right eye, which will grow into a tear mole in the future, but he doesn't know what kind of destiny it is at that time, it's just a pity, this background, that is, there are Meng and Jia's partial gangs, and it is categorically not comparable to those wealthy young masters with gold and jade.

Baiyun Canggou, our generation always has to go, and young people always have their own pursuit. Who can say for sure what is happening outside the cold window? The fox fur brocade clothes do not feel warm, and the cold night is faint and misses for a hundred years. I can only hope that this doll will repay her kindness, and in the future, there will be an official and a half-job, and she will think more about her master.

Old Master Meng retracted his distant thoughts and looked at Han Linglin's words carefully. When Han Ling saw that he was standing on the side, he traced it one by one, trying to be accurate.

At an extremely slow speed, Han Ling wrote a word "more", and Old Master Meng couldn't help but laugh when he saw it, and sighed: "Not bad." It looks like nine points, and it looks like three points. It's a surprise for beginners. Write boldly and with confidence, and do you cringe at nothing!"

As a genius child, Han Ling has been the focus of the entire private school from the beginning, and I don't know how many pairs of eyes are looking at him, looking at this special visitor who is not an inner surname or an outer surname.

At this moment, everyone's eyes were turned to this side, and Old Master Meng also noticed it, frowned and said: "The ruler is ruthless, don't look around!"

Han Ling has felt that his senses seem to be more sensitive than others since he was a child, for example, now, he can feel that most of the eyes from all directions are reluctantly reluctantly reluctantly retracted, and a few of them look this way from time to time, among them is the Meng Ju just now.

This is not a friendly look. Han Ling was secretly vigilant.

Old Master Meng put his hands in his hands and gave a few more words, then turned around and Shi Shiran left. People are like spirits, and they naturally know that it is just at the beginning, and the followers really should not show too much attention and praise to him, otherwise it will not be good for him, but it will be easy to harm him.

It was already afternoon after Liu Xinbei, but the others had already finished both, and Han Ling had no choice but to talk to Old Master Meng, put away the template, and planned to go home to practice again.

Dozens of people went out in a majestic manner, and the sky was sunny after the rain outside, and the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers and plants. Everything is brand new, and the scene is refreshing.

The crumbling dew on the tips of the grass at your feet, the scattered buds that want to talk, and even the newly weeping poplars are very fresh. Everything under the sun is thriving, not enchanting and gorgeous, but a kind of tranquility and peace that is not yet in love. The life written by plants and trees is nothing more than prosperity and withering, coming and going silently.

Han Ling experienced a long-lost happiness in this Meng Garden everywhere. Once he had to endure the hustle and bustle day and night, and the lights were dazzling. The more people in the world are squeezed, the more people are unconsciously swayed by the times and their upward aspirations. It's not about following your dreams without regrets, but about going with the flow involuntarily. Every day is racing against time, but the years are wasted every year. The passing years are not beautiful, and the memories are also scattered several times. I didn't go where I wanted to go, and I didn't fall in love with the person I wanted to love, but I just struggled in the filth and darkness, desperate to the point of falling into self-depravity.

The years that come like the tide, the crowd that disappears like the tide!

Perhaps, when people's souls are separated from old things and shaped by this new grass, they can have a beautiful summer and a free and easy sky.