Shangguan Wulu's sword intent deeply touched Zhen Shi. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

"This is the artistic conception ......"

Zhen Shi's heart was shocked, and after thinking for a while, he looked at the pool in front of him, picked up the pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote down "one" pen.

Only this time, he held the pen harder, as if what he was looking for was not the surface of the water, but King Kong, where the sword could not leave a trace.

In the beginning, it took only one breath to write a stroke.

Later, the time gradually increased, ten breaths, a hundred breaths, and in the end, he slowed down completely, one day and one night, ten days and ten nights, one hundred days and one hundred nights, and only wrote one stroke.

So he was slow and frightening, as if he had not moved for a long time, and when others saw him, he maintained this action for a long time, holding the pen on the surface of the water, not moving at all, like a lion statue in front of the door.

The wind blows, the rain blows. Another three years.

Three years of grinding.

Three years later, Zhen is really fast, not a little bit faster, but like a storm, his hands are writing faster and faster, as fast as lightning, dizzying.

With a single stroke, the pool water churned, setting off wave after wave.

Suddenly, one day, Zhen Shi shouted, waved, and wrote the word "one", and suddenly the water in the pond was like a watermelon cut by a knife, divided into two.

After a long time, the pool water returned to calm, and in the clear water in front of Zhen Shi, a black word finally appeared - "one".

In the pool water, Zhen Shi is reflected, with messy hair and a face full of scum.

"Before I knew it, I was an adult. Zhen Shi sighed with emotion, got up, and came to the calligrapher.

"Senior, I wrote in the water, but it didn't go away for seven days. ”

The calligrapher looked at the word "one" in the pond from afar, and showed a little appreciation: "You wrote it." ”

Then the calligrapher asked, "What do you understand?"

Zhen Shi replied: "Artistic conception is a powerful mind, which is more noble than consciousness. If you want to write in water, you must first have words in your heart. ”

"Do you have a word in your heart?"

"There is only one 'one' word. ”

Hearing this, the calligrapher nodded and smiled: "Okay." ”

Zhen Shi said goodbye to the calligrapher and came to the holy place of painting.

The face of the painting saint is cold.

If Shangguan Wulu is cold, then the painting saint is definitely cold, light, and cold.

He still asks for the same thing:

"I have carp in my pond, catch them all. ”

There was only one carp in the pond, and Zhen Shi tried to catch it in the water, but when he caught one, another one appeared, and he couldn't catch it.

On the edge of the pond, he met another acquaintance, Sheng Rong, the leader of the Linggen Academy.

Sheng Rong, like Zhen Shi, first went to the calligrapher to practice, and then went to the holy place of painting, at the moment he was engrossed in catching fish and immersed in it, and everything in the outside world did not affect him.

Zhen Shi arrived, he didn't know it.

And Zhen Shi didn't care about his existence, sat down cross-legged, spread out a piece of paper, and took out a pen and inkstone.

However, he began to copy the carp, painting one painting after another, and this painting lasted for a year and a half.

One day later, Sheng Rong suddenly raised his head to the sky and roared, his eyes burst out with a fiery look, only to see him suddenly reach out his hands to the pond, and grab the carp.

Zhen Shi's eyes flashed and he looked at the pond, the water was clear, the water was not rippling, and no new carp appeared.

Sheng Rong grabbed the carp and held on for a stick of incense, and then the water in the pond suddenly rippled, and another carp appeared.

Gasping for air, he got up.

Sheng Rong wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead, excitement and arrogance appeared on his face, his eyes turned, and he suddenly found Zhen Shi not far away, stunned, showing surprise, but did not speak, just smiled slightly, hugged his fists and saluted.

Zhen Shi also smiled and hugged his fists in return, everything was silent.

The painter looked at the pond, showed a satisfied look, his smile was also cold, and after praising Sheng Rong a few words, the latter happily said goodbye.

Zhen Shi did not envy, insisted on copying on paper, and half a year later, he abandoned the ink inkstone and only used the pen to wander on the paper.

In the days that followed, many people saw a strange scene.

Zhen Shi sat on the edge of the pond day and night, holding a pen that had not been dipped in ink, moving around on the paper.

No matter how he painted, the blank paper remained blank.

"Crazy. ”

Three years and three years.

On this day, the sun was just right, the breeze was blowing, and it was another uneventful day.

Zhen Shi took a deep breath, took the brush with the hair at the end of the pen and drew it on the paper, and after a while, he suddenly put away the pen and stopped.

The whole pond, with his pause, seemed to freeze.

His pupils twitched slightly, and he looked at the pond.

Suddenly, the water of the pond swelled again, and at some point, the carp swam to the shore and was right in front of his eyes.

Wow!

The carp swings its tail, suddenly jumps up, jumps towards the white paper, and disappears the moment it touches the paper.

And on the paper, there was an extra carp that was exactly the same.

The scales are bright, as if they were a live fish.

The water is clear and no new carp are popping up.

Zhen Shi's expression was calm, and he handed the piece of paper to the painting saint and said, "I caught it." ”

The painter took the paper coldly, and when he looked at it, his pupils suddenly constricted, his expression changed slightly, and then he said meaningfully: "You caught it." ”

For the next three days, the pond was fish-free.

Until the night wind blew and blew the paper into the pond, the koi fish on the paper suddenly wagged its tail and swam away.

Bidding farewell to the painting saint, Zhen Shi returned to the Qi Sect, and built a thatched house ten miles east of the Qi Sect, started the stove in front of the door, and began to refine the weapon.

The main material is dark iron, the fire is charcoal, one person, one hammer.

In the first year, the Instrument Sect looked at the Xuantie Flying Sword he forged, and commented: "The fifth-order lower-grade Xuanbao is good. ”

In the second year, Qizong took a serious look at the Xuantie Flying Sword he forged for a long time, and praised in surprise: "The eighth-order low-grade Xuanbao is rare. ”

And in the second half of the year, the Instrument Sect saw a ninth-order low-grade Xuantie Flying Sword and gave a thumbs up: "Boutique." ”

On this day, Zhen Shi stopped forging and came to Leshen.

Le Shen is different from the previous people, he has an arrogant temperament, looked at Zhen Shi, and wondered: "Isn't it enough for you to refine medicine, refine weapons, practice calligraphy, and learn painting?

Zhen Shi replied seriously: "I heard that when the best sword is unsheathed, the sword sound is also the most beautiful, I want to forge the best sword, I want to hear the most beautiful sword sound." ”

Leshen's face changed, and he thought for a moment before nodding, but only allowed him to listen.

Leshen didn't have the heart to care about Zhen Shi, and his favorite student at the moment was from the Linggen Academy, with a rare "sound Linggen" teacher and young micro, and the timbre was unique.

Shi Youwei is a blind person, who can hear and see, has an incomparable talent in music, is proficient in all kinds of musical instruments, and can easily come to it without a teacher.

In Linggen Temple, the people who fought with her often fell asleep in her wonderful sounds, and they were defeated before they could fight.

But don't underestimate her, quiet and elegant is just her side, behind that pair of blind eyes, there is a darkness that ordinary people dare not imagine.

Someone had offended her, and under her mysterious music, the man couldn't help but dance, and couldn't stop at all, until he was tired to death.

Someone accidentally provoked her, and she retaliated with a stringless piano, and her heart exploded directly, and the corpse was on the spot.

Leshen is very fond of Shi Youwei, and he teaches all the piano and flute, and he is here to fend for Zhen Shi, ignoring him.

Zhen really didn't care, and exchanged for another superpower that was once regarded as chicken ribs - "Listen to a few".

The sound of heaven and earth is all in the ears.

It only took him one year to learn all the movements that the music god had collected all his life, and he could play a single note well.

This kind of talent even surpasses Shi Youwei's talent, but the arrogant Le God still looks down on him.

Even though Shi Youwei just played the repertoire, Zhen Shi played it in a more beautiful or even perfect way, but the music god only praised Shi Youwei for doing a good job, and was very disdainful of Zhen Shi here, saying that his rhythm was no different from noise, and he wasted his talent in vain.

Zhen Shi didn't complain about this, just practiced over and over again.

"Why are you playing like this?" One day, Shi Youwei suddenly came to his side and asked softly.

"I just want to hear the most beautiful sword sound. ”

Hearing this, Shi Youwei smiled: "You want to hear the most beautiful sword sound, then have you ever thought that the most beautiful sword sound may not be heard by you at all?"

Zhen Shi frowned.

"The sword is in the middle of the sound, and the sound is expected. No matter how good the sound is, it is better to pay attention to it for a long time. ”

Leaving this sentence, Shi Youwei left indifferently.

Zhen Shi repeated her words, her body shook, and the inner touch and feeling gushed out like a spring.

He always felt that no matter what he did, even if he was perfect and extreme, he still lacked something.

At this moment, he finally figured out what he was missing.

In the days that followed, Zhen Shi rarely stroked the piano, and only played a few times occasionally, without any rules, just casually.

However, whenever he stirred the strings, the god of music would tilt his head to listen, and his attitude towards him would improve greatly.

One night, when the moon was full and the candle shadow was shaking, he sat on the ground, looking at the stars and the moon, his heart was ethereal, immersed in his feelings.

Suddenly, his headband broke, and all his long hair fell out.

He pinched a straw rope in his hand, and was just about to put it back in a bun, when at that moment, he found that there were many gray hairs in his hair.

Hair......

The time of this life flies so fast.

sighed, inexplicably touching the depths of my heart.

A certain memory from his previous life surfaced, and he thought he had forgotten it a long time ago, but it was so profound at the moment.

He remembered a fruitless love in his previous life, a woman who had waited for him all his life, and after her death, he regretted it for many years.

He stroked the harp slowly and chanted in a low voice:

"Thirty years in Hedong, forty years in Hexi, humanity is a great river to the east, rich and noble, poor and romantic. The hero takes off his armor, his face is red and white, he looks at the eight thousand night meteors, and the sound of the crescent moon is still like that of the year. Last night, the wind cut the rain, who listened to the swallow warbler crying to urge the red? After the autumn wind rose in the year, the temples were full of frost and snow, a pot of drifting, drunk and lying in the world. ”

The sound of the piano lingers far away.

When Shi Youwei heard this, she was suddenly moved in her heart and burst into tears.

It turns out that blind people can cry.

The arrogant face of the god of music changed suddenly, and he heard that there were more things in Zhen Shi's piano sound that he had not had before, the most precious thing, and the most beautiful thing he had been pursuing.

And this thing is called emotion.