Volume 3 Yinjiang Chapter 41 Autumn Maple Drunken Bridge
The sound of cicadas was silent, and the moon was hidden behind the gauze curtain in the middle of the night, revealing a few candlelights. Nan Jianing gently blew the herbal tea in the cup, slowed down and handed it to Qilang's hand. Qilang raised his head, and the two looked at each other and smiled.
"Why don't you make some for yourself?"
"Hehe..." Jiayou suppressed his voice and said with a silly smile, "The cup is hot, I'll watch you drink it first."
Qilang pursed her lips and lowered her head, giving him an angry look: "It's not a rare thing, why should you be so careful?" After that, the two sat opposite each other, and Jia Jing quietly watched Qilang sipping the herbal tea from the cup.
This tea is called "Siyu". It is a long-lasting love, and it is produced only in the deep mountains of Lirong. Qilang originally went to the mountain to find it in late spring every year. Now it is harvested in autumn and stored in winter, but the master of the Medicine Plant Hall is lying on the couch.
——
The left sleeve is empty.
Seeing Qilang alone looking in the direction of the senior sister, Jianing couldn't help but ask: "How is the injury on the senior sister's side?"
Qilang shook his head: "That child's hands are weak, and the sword tip is only a hair away from his heart." After being in a daze for a while, Qilang suddenly stood up and squinted his eyes behind Jianing: "Why are you so careless? The newly made robe for you
, can you also trip over a corner?"
Jianing hurriedly turned around to take a look, and sure enough, at some point, the seam on the side of his brand new blue robe had torn open, revealing a small corner that was out of line. He smiled helplessly: "Lang... don't be angry, I will definitely pay attention to it in the future.
Put some on."
Sighing, Qilang sat down again: "Bring it here and I will replenish it for you."
The long and slender hand flew in the air, Qi Lang holding the empty needle, as if there were fireflies dancing slowly in the air. The broken corners in the hand gradually closed, but no trace of thread was visible under the needle tip, and the cyan thread that spread out later seemed to hear a silent sound.
Following the guidance, it returned to its original appearance on its own. Qi Lang bit off the thread, unfolded the robe, and shook it off in the air.
Jianing looked at the weird-shaped hole in the corner of his clothes and couldn't help but feel silly: "That's it?"
"that's all."
Jianing stared at Qilang's expression as she concentrated on embroidery under the candlelight. Her almond-shaped eyes, dark eyebrows, and delicate fingers were so beautiful that she couldn't even describe them. Qilang turned around and asked, "What are you looking at?"
When asked suddenly, Mr. Nan panicked and said, "Look, look at your embroidered robe."
The long and soft green robe was spread out, and in addition to the fallen corners, it was also embroidered with a small spiritual lamp. Young Master Linghu held Master Nan's wrist and let his broad palm touch his embroidery:
"Ning, when these turmoils pass, you and I will also have a light on the Lantern Festival."
Jianing nodded and stroked the invisible and colorless corner that ordinary people could not detect. The two looked at each other and smiled again.
"Fortunately, these hidden lines are matched by the smoke."
"No one else can see it, but only you and I understand it."
The night breeze was slightly cool, the candle flame was not swaying, and the transparent and traceless hidden thread floated a thin shadow.
After a moment, Qilang reacted. She was startled and grabbed Jianing's wrist. Jianing turned over his hand and held Qilang's arm tightly. At the same time, he turned around and looked towards the door:
The night was empty, with stars in the distance and no one around.
If the hidden thread had not happened to have a tail, the two of them would not have heard the sound of the person outside the door. There was no shadow when they left, and there was no wind when they came in. Not even the sound of candles disturbed them, but they didn't know what kind of expert was hiding not far away.
place.
Jianing lowered his voice: "Sit down and I'll go check it out." Then he took out his sleeve from Qilang's hand and walked out the door holding the candlestick.
As soon as he turned around, Qilang disappeared from sight. Second Young Master Nan was trembling all over, and his legs were so weak that he could hardly stand up. He just thought that Qilang and Qichuan were still in the house, and he had to go out in the middle of the night.
Huihui. Grit your teeth, lift the curtain and walk out——
There was no sound outside the door for a moment.
It seemed that a whole night had passed before the sound of gentle footsteps came from a short distance away. Qilang hurriedly got up and ran over, only to see Jianing's green shadow first appearing vaguely behind the gauze curtain, and then
He kept getting closer, holding the extinguished candlestick and approaching the door of Yaozhi Hall. Qilang immediately threw herself into a hug: "Ning... you really scared me."
Jianing was also sweating all over his body. Being hugged by Qilang like this, his nervousness suddenly disappeared. He could only feel the silly and joyful air in his heart kept coming up: "Hey... I'm not that nervous either!
"
Qilang reached out and feigned anger and slapped Mr. Nan on the shoulder, then turned around and walked into the house. Jianing quickly chased after him and took out a shiny object from behind: "Lang, look!"
"Shh!" Glancing at Senior Sister Qichuan who was still sleeping, Jianing quickly lowered his voice, "What do you think this is?"
A glowing silver arrow cluster was spread out under the candlelight, and there were still a few silver feathers dangling from the tail of the arrow, about to fall off.
"Silver Feather Arrow." Qilang reached out and took it, drawing a silver circle in the air. "It seems to be the one commonly used in West Lake."
"West Lake?" Nan Gongzi thought to himself, wondering what the evil plan of "Duo Xin Zheng" was up to. It took him a long time to react before he remembered that the head of Duo Xin Zheng from West Lake had just fallen on the top of Lingdeng Cliff not long ago, and his bones were probably still there.
It's not cool yet. I sighed in my heart, turned around and saw Qilang taking off a thin piece of bamboo paper from the arrow, and came to her side.
The two of them unfolded the tissue paper under the lamp, but within a moment, they all gasped in unison.
Jianing licked his lips and looked into Qilang's frightened eyes: "Who is this... written to?"
Qilang didn't answer.
"Do you want to talk to Master and Uncle..." Before Jianing could finish his sentence, Qilang suddenly crumpled the thin crisp bamboo paper in his hand into a ball and threw it out of the window with his backhand. "Ning, remember who to talk to."
Don't say it."
"……good."
The bamboo paper letter that was thrown out of the window happened to be picked up by Linghu Ziqin. It was dark at night, watching Qing Qing drink the medicine, and he wanted to quietly check on the eldest disciple's injury.
Thinking that Qilang and the new young master from the Nan family have been taking turns guarding each other these past few days, maybe it's time to let the two young men rest for a while.
I had a lot of thoughts in my mind, so I inadvertently unfolded the crumpled paper and looked at it——
The word "mandu" came into view immediately.
As the ghosts and gods sent him to his destination, Ziqin rolled up his sleeves, crumpled the bamboo paper letter into a ball again, and walked towards Qingqing's hut at the top of the mountain. Along the way, there were thick old roots of ancient banyan trees, and when he reached the top, it started to rain lightly.
As the rain rustled in the distance, a faint song could be heard:
"The bitter clouds are directionless, and I sigh for the fireflies that have disappeared. My heart goes with the water, and I play the flute in the rain..."
Ziqin quietly opened the door: "Did you have a good dream last night?"
While she was playing the piano with her eyes closed, Qingqing heard her master's voice and stood up quickly, smiling shyly.
Turning his head for a moment, for some reason, that smile coincided with Zi Shu's in Zi Qin's memory. When Zi Shu followed Mr. Mo down the mountain with snot and tears in his eyes without looking back, that night was the first time Zi Qin heard the faint sound at the foot of the mountain.
"Drunken Bridge":
"The bitter clouds are directionless, and the fireflies are missing their traces."
No one could hear the call of Tao Xun's voice at the foot of the mountain that day.
Naihe Ziqin had practiced the piano well and his hearing was extremely sensitive. He not only memorized the entire music score from beginning to end, but also tolerated the sound of the xun playing without stopping for a whole night.
That was the last time he saw his junior sister.
Now Qingqing's eyes are almost sixty-seven points similar to Zi Shu's. The remaining three or four differences can only be noticed when Qingqing concentrates on playing the flute. Ziqin couldn't help but ask: "Have you ever seen Mr. Mo again later?"
?”
Qingqing shook his head.
Ziqin understood something in her heart and sat down in front of the piano. Qingqing took a step back and sat behind the master. The noisy sound of the piano came to mind again, and Qingqing suddenly focused on the master's white fingertips -
-Although I have never heard this song in its entirety, I know in my heart that it is the long-awaited "Wild Geese Falling on the Flat Sand".
Far away from the Xiangjiang River, the autumn leaves are red, the mist is misty, and the west wind blows wildly one day.
Qingqing hummed softly along with the melody of the piano. After a while, the sound of the piano suddenly turned, and the tone was light, slow and weak. Ziqin then moved his right hand and Qingqing's fingertips stood on the strings. While playing,
Ziqin observed Qingqing's finger movements and felt that the music had less impact than ordinary music.
The fingering technique is simple and elegant, with no thought put into it.
Thinking of this, Master Linghu couldn't help but sigh softly. Qingqing was paying attention to the music when he suddenly heard it and quickly opened his five fingers to stop the strings: "Master, did the disciple make a mistake somewhere?"
Ziqin came back to her senses, lowered her head and smiled at her disciple: "No. There is no definite formula for fingering music and the like, and people in the past and future generations have to modify it from generation to generation. Now that you can have your own ideas when listening to the piano, it's good."
Qing Qing lowered his head and pursed his lips: "Hermits in ancient and modern times, most of them worry about the people in temples and the king in rivers and lakes. If there is governance, they will advance, but if there is no way, they will hide. This kind of wild goose's ambition is what is said in the song "Pingsha Luoyan".
"Hearing this, Ziqin secretly approved in his heart. But he remained calm and waited for Qingqing to continue.
"If Pingsha was able to let the wild geese fall, it would be the same as Zhongnan being able to go into seclusion and eventually become a 'full hermit' in history."
Chong Yin frowned, Ziqin shook his head and said slowly: "If you say so, there will be no one in the world who can help the world and take good care of himself?"
"It's not..." As if he stopped to think for a moment, Qing Qing then spoke again: "Just like what the master told his disciples, when you establish a Rongshan person, you only have twelve words - if you don't write the history of Taiping, you won't leave the dust of water and fire.
.”
Ziqin was startled, as if the strings of a piano were buzzing.
"The disciple remembers that it was said in the genealogy that the day when Li Rong of Dongshan returned to seclusion happened to be a time when the world was in great peace and the court was prosperous; but if it really comes to the moment when the mountain people come out of seclusion, the world will be in chaos and the water is in dire straits... Master, this is
It's the difference between 'charging hermit' and 'returning hermit'." After saying that, Qingqing raised her eyes and looked at her master with her heart pounding.
Hearing this, Ziqin's eyes suddenly softened, and even a hint of sadness emerged. It was as if the words he had always hidden in his heart were guessed without warning:
"When the spiritual lamp lights up again, the people from Dongshan will return."
Seeing her master's expression in a trance, Qingqing was secretly puzzled. Suddenly, she glanced at the familiar bamboo paper between her sleeves, reflecting the dim yellow luster. Ziqin raised her hand and rubbed Qingqing's head: "Qingqing, what was the last thought with you?
Similar people…”
Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand to flick his sleeves, and the thin wrinkled paper from the sleeves of his green robe fell out.