"I think the most admirable thing about Mr. Chen Meigong is his integrity and conduct, as well as his celebrity status.

Chen Meigong loved flowers. He lived in seclusion in the south of Xiaokun Mountain in his early years. He built a temple to worship Erlu (Lu Ji and Lu Yun). He begged famous flowers from all over and planted them in front of the hall. He said: "I am poor, so I can entertain Mr. Er." "Flower Begging Ground". It's so elegant.

Hou Mei Gong knew that his time was coming, so he went away from home for several days and wrote a letter to say goodbye to his old relatives and friends. As if he was about to go on a long journey, he wrote a couplet to himself: Enable my feet, open my hands. For eighty years, I have been in deep poverty and walked on thin soil; I will not blame God. Not a single person, a fish leaps over a kite in three thousand realms, and passes away with a throw of a pen..."

The old man sighed and said: "The old man is also in his seventies. In terms of age, he is not far behind him, but in terms of life realm, he is far behind..."

"You and his generation are different, there is no comparison. At least you are better friends than him. It is said that Chen Meigong and Dong Qichang have a close relationship. In comparison, Dong Qichang is like a pig or dog, smelling bad, which makes Chen Meigong more noble."

Anyone who studies calligraphy knows that Dong Qichang's calligraphy is really good, but his person is really bad. He has successfully overturned the theory that calligraphy is like the person he is.

"Chen Meigong is a very wealthy man. How do you say he is noble?"

The old man raised his eyebrows and asked.

"Master Nan, you can't fail me in this test. There is no conflict between wealth and nobility."

Chang Xian also raised his eyebrows and said: "Chen Meigong is not that kind of arrogant scholar or lonely hermit. He was dissatisfied with the interference in the officialdom, so he burned his scholarly crown and was determined to become an official. It's not that he doesn't like wealth, but he just doesn't want to be affected by wealth. He is just tired. He is not willing to be a hermit like Yangshan Caiwei and starve to death..."

Chen Meigong was very good at making money. His Baoyan Hall was the largest bookstore in the south of the Yangtze River. The "Baoyan Hall Secrets" compiled by his chief editor was similar to an encyclopedia, a collection of classics and history, medical divination and astrology, and all kinds of notebooks and novels. Because these books catered to the preferences of scholars in the late Ming Dynasty, he became the most successful bookseller in the late Ming Dynasty. In this way, he could travel around the mountains and rivers without being fettered by fame, and enjoy the joy of life comfortably. "

Chang Xian said seriously: "Snobbishness and splendor are everywhere. Those who are not close to you are pure. Chen Meigong travels around without being stained. He is like a gentleman's lotus. He is truly pure."

The old man laughed and said, "Even if you pass the test, the most important thing in life is your mentality. Read more books and be wise and calm!"

Nanshi used "University" to criticize him.

Chang Xian stood up to be taught, and smiled again: "God is really caring about Mr. Chen Meigong. How many people are poor and sick, but Mr. Chen Meigong has a family with plenty of millet and a healthy body. He has lived for eighty years without any disaster or disease. many!"

"As for laziness, Mei Gong's laziness lies in listening to the spring, tasting tea, gathering plum blossoms, sitting on futons, collecting herbs in the mountains, playing with the moon on the roof of the building, dancing with cranes, playing with fish, um, and playing chess..."

"Yes! God loves this man so much!"

The old man said quietly: "It's just that God's greatest blessing is that he dies in time..."

Only five years after Chen Jiru's death, Chongzhen hung himself on the southeastern branch, and then China fell into a dark abyss for nearly three hundred years.

Many times, people cannot compete with God. Living well while they can live and dying peacefully when they deserve to die are blessings.

"Some people are cared for by God, some are not cared for by God, and some are only half cared for by God. When I saw your words, what popped into my mind was Zhang Zongzi, who was half cared for by God."

Chang Xian felt lost: "Taibai rides a whale, quarrying stones by the river to fish for the moon at night; Meigong rides on a deer, catching the autumn wind in Qiantang County."

"When Duke Chen Mei came to visit, Zhang Zongzi, a six-year-old boy, pointed at objects with faith. Ling Jun was like this, and he was introduced to Duke Mei as his little friend. Such a good story has not been heard again in three hundred years!"

Zhang Zongzi is one of Chang Xian's favorite people, he is the most elegant person in the world.

What is elegance?

"Wind" is the national style, related to food, drink and men.

"Elegance" refers to taste, which hides a kind of nobility of spirit.

Wind, a labiodental sound, the air flow gently pushing out.

"Ya" is a flat vowel, like a door being gently pushed open, or like an ancient chanting in the wind.

The combination of elegance and elegance refers to a way of life, a life that is highly integrated with materiality and spirituality.

This kind of life, which eliminates the boundaries between art and life, reached its peak in the glorious and extravagant era of the late Ming Dynasty. After half a century of flourishing, it was forcibly destroyed by the dark wind.

At this point, the strings are broken, the sound is extinct, and the elegance and elegance are scattered.

If we were to list the "elegance" seeds of the late Ming Dynasty, the first one on the list would definitely be Zhang Zongzi.

Zhang Zongzi was born in a Shaoxing family and was a dandy at a young age. He "loved prosperity, monasteries, beautiful maids, prostitutes, fresh clothes, delicious food, horses, lanterns, fireworks, pear orchards, propaganda, and

Antiques, good flowers and birds."

In "Memories of Dreams in Tao'an", this great playwright wrote about all kinds of things in the market in the late Ming Dynasty, the lights of Shaoxing, the Mid-Autumn Festival in Tiger Hill, the fragrant market in West Lake, the people of Hangzhou looking at the moon, and the banquets and socializing of the upper class. He also wrote about rare antiques. Take a look at them.

Talking excitedly about teahouses and restaurants, lighting up lanterns to welcome the gods, telling stories and acting, fighting cocks and raising birds, it all looks like a southern Ukiyoe of the late Ming Dynasty.

When Zhang Zongzi wrote this memoir, he was already a poor survivor in his later years.

He looked back on his life and reviewed the consequences, "Prosperity and splendor are all fleeting. In the past fifty years, it has been just a dream."

It talks about one's own life experience, and is also a sigh for the flower of civilization that died prematurely. It is a nostalgic and melancholy passing glance at that exquisite era.

He wrote about studying in his grandfather's Tianjing Garden during his childhood. Outside the window, there were tall locust trees and deep bamboos, layers of green, and even the words on the scrolls were full of green ("When you open the scroll through the quiet window, the words are all fresh and green").

He also said that when he climbed up Longshan Mountain outside the city to see the snow, "Ten thousand mountains carry snow, but the bright moon is thin."

And when he was 32 years old and led his family to perform a night play at Jinshan Temple in Zhenjiang, the moonlight leaked from the forest, "as sparse as lingering snow."

He wrote stories about going to Nanjing to have a tea fight with Mr. Min, about taking a boat with Zhu Chusheng and other young artists to see the red leaves at Dingxiang Bridge, and about Chen Hongshou chasing a woman at night at the Yuemiao Temple in West Lake. His writing is as lively as a novel.

He wrote about the women he dated at the same time, and his writing showed more affection. He said that Zhu Chusheng's appearance was not very beautiful, "he is so beautiful, his loneliness is in his eyebrows, his affection is in his eyelashes, and his meaning is in the smoke and the charming behavior";

It is said that Wang Yuesheng was as tall as a water chestnut, and had a cold temperament. He slept and ate with a certain young master for half a month without uttering a word. One day, he only spoke the word "go home";

When writing about the house on the Qinhuai River, it is like "The jasmine wind stirs up the fragrance of the children." Someone who is not truly elegant cannot write like this.

In the winter of 1632, Zhang Zongzi went to the pavilion in the center of the lake to see the snow. "The sky and clouds, the mountains, and the water were all white. The shadows on the lake were just a trace of the long embankment, a little pavilion in the center of the lake, and Yu Zhou, in the boat.

"It's just two or three grains for a person." There are many people in the world who claim to be elegant. Who is so crazy?"

The old man stood up slowly and walked to a bush of camellia. He wanted to reach out and pick a leaf, but then he dropped it back.

"Zhang Zongzi has similarities with Cao Xueqin, but the tragedy is far greater than that of Cao Xueqin..."

"Words are written to convey the Tao, but if you don't have a deep taste of the world, how can you have transcendent thoughts?"

Chang Xian murmured: "Not only the hermits, but also the monks, Taoist priests, and those who have become monks since childhood, very few of them can achieve enlightenment. They must go through the world of mortals before they can achieve enlightenment."

"I experienced all the prosperity before the age of fifty, and became as miserable as an old monk after the age of fifty. Only then could I write "Tao'an Dream Memories", "Dream of the West Lake" and "Dream of the Red Mansions" that are both simple and visionary, affectionate and free.

"The same is true for "The creation of immortal works also has its own destiny. It seems to have already existed, just waiting for the right person to write it..."
Chapter completed!