The Daqian Dynasty had ninety-nine states, three thousand prefectures and counties, with a population of tens of millions, and was prosperous. As the capital of the country, all the good things in the world naturally gathered in Yujing City, and there were many foreign merchants. The group is crowded with people and money, and there are many knights and knights, Taoist priests, ghosts and immortals among them, so this place has many legends.
A scholar met a fox fairy somewhere and had a stormy night.
A certain maid in a certain mansion was actually a man, but she was born with a female appearance and pretended to be a woman to avoid trouble. After the male owner found out, he still took her as a side wife.
But within this legend, there is also the legend of a street painter.
"This person's name is Xu Lang."
In the tavern, a forty-year-old man in luxurious clothes was carrying a bird cage and said to the people next to him: "Tian Huan on my street was a Jinshi in the last year of Yi. His father has been dead for three years. Not long ago, I got to know the man at the painting stall because of books. During the conversation, I learned that this man only painted dead people, so I asked Xu Lang to paint one for his father."
"At that time, Tian Huan wanted to reveal his father's appearance, but Xu Lang said it was not necessary. He painted with a brush, and the appearance of Tian Huan's father appeared on the paper. When I saw the painting, it was like a portrait of Tian Huan's father. Resurrected, flattened, and pressed into a painting, it can no longer be described as lifelike. Let me tell you, with that hand, the painting saint is nothing compared to him."
Such bragging made the people around him booing him while drinking and gossiping.
Chen Zimo from the Chen family in Chizhou, who called himself Qian Daozi after becoming a monk, was a famous painting sage in the Qian Dynasty. His paintings were highly praised by the emperor Hong Xuanji of the dynasty, and his name as a painting sage is undeniable.
Suddenly a person jumped out and said that he was more powerful than the Painting Saint. After hearing this, people just shook their heads and regarded this as a "minority boast".
"You don't understand."
This luxuriously dressed man doesn't have much to say.
In this era, if artists want to stand out and leave a name in history, they mainly need to interact with the people who hold power in the dynasty, and then their paintings can be promoted and recognized by others. In the eyes of this noble person , Xu Lang just hasn't interacted with the nobles yet.
Once you have communication, you will definitely ride the wind.
Painting booth.
One after another, people came to Xu Lang's stall and heard that Xu Lang only painted dead people. They felt a little unlucky and left again. It was not until a scholar arrived in front of Xu Lang's stall that Xu Lang put down his book and raised his head.
"Hong Yi."
Xu Lang saw the person in front of him and called him with a smile.
This is Hong Yi, the male protagonist of Yangshen World. At this time, he is quite elegant, but his body is relatively thin. When he saw Xu Lang raised his head, he said in admiration: "I really admire your determination. In such a cold wind, you can wear It’s thin, but I can remain unmoved and concentrate on reading.”
As a scholar, Hong Yi naturally knew how remarkable this was.
"Um……"
Xu Lang lowered his head, tugged on his clothes, and said, "My clothes are made of fire-huan cloth. It is like a charcoal fire, so it is naturally warm."
"..."
Only then did Hong Yi look at Xu Lang's clothes. He had seen something like fire coat cloth in his notebooks and novels. According to legend, many immortals wore fire coat cloth. It is said that this set of clothes is not afraid of fire.
After there are stains, it is not washed with water, but burned in a fire, and then taken out to be a brand new piece.
This only exists in legends...
This also made Hong Yi feel that Xu Lang was unusual.
"I've finished reading the scroll."
Xu Lang looked at the scroll in Hong Yi's arms and asked.
As the son of Hong Xuanji, Hong Yi should have had a wealthy life, but the Zhao family suppressed him and Hong Xuanji ignored him, which made Hong Yi's life in the house more difficult. All the books he read had to be borrowed, and he was also borrowing them.
When I was reading books, I had a social relationship with Xu Lang.
"The notes copied by Tian Huan really opened my eyes."
Hong Yi handed the scroll to Xu Lang. Only then did he see some ink marks on his fingertips, and quietly wiped them on his clothes.
Xu Lang took the book, put it on the stall, looked at Hong Yi, sighed, and said: "If you practice Taoism and your soul reaches the state of daily travel, you will be able to remember everything, and you won't have to copy it so painfully.
"
Taoism? Soul? Day trip?
These three points surprised Hong Yi. He had seen these records in his notebooks and novels, but he had always been unable to understand the details of the forbidden Taoist techniques of the Daqian Dynasty.
"Brother Xu, is there really Taoism in this world?"
Hong Yi asked in surprise.
Xu Lang nodded and asked: "If there is no Taoism, why did the Daqian Dynasty ban Taoism?"
After the founding of the Daqian Dynasty, the world's martial arts and Taoism were collected, and the martial arts and Taoism were compiled. After they were published all over the world, these books were taken back, marked as forbidden books, and banned from circulation. All the Hongyi have heard of this.
"So, Brother Xu, your painting is actually a kind of Taoism."
Hong Yi's eyes flashed, and many things from the books he read naturally came to mind, and he said: "I read in the notebook novels about a kind of person who specializes in painting dead people, but there is a limit, and the time for this person to die is no more than two seconds.
Ten years later, after I arrived at the grave, I had some insights, and then I splashed my brush with ink, and the picture I made was exactly the same as what I had done in life. Although I didn't see the picture you drew for Tian Huan, I think it should be similar."
After reading many books, Hongyi itself is a small encyclopedia.
"The principles should be similar, but there are differences in procedures."
Xu Lang looked at Hong Yi and said: "In fact, I don't need to go to the grave to draw. For example, if you are in front of me, if I want to draw, I can draw it." While talking, Xu Lang began to study ink.
Hong Yi looked at Xu Lang's painting stall and felt that this inkstone was also quite strange. In this cold street, the ink produced was even and clear, with no condensation at all.
"Brother Xu, please give me a painting for my mother!"
Hong Yi handed over his hand and asked.
Hong Yi's mother, Meng Bingyun, died of illness seven years ago. This is an eternal pain in Hong Yi's heart. Now he studies hard just to win a title for his mother, so that his mother can overwhelm Mrs. Zhao in status.
Let Mrs. Zhao worship her mother's tablet honestly.
Xu Lang smiled slightly, and the pen and ink in his hand began to move. After a while, the outline of Meng Bingyun appeared in front of Hong Yi. The trace of sadness and tenacity between his eyebrows made Hong Yi almost see his mother alive.
Looking at this picture, Hong Yi seemed to see an aloof girl who married Hong Xuanji, then entrusted her to a wrong man, and finally died with resentment.
"This is not my mother..."
Hong Yi looked at the scroll and tasted something different without realizing it. He felt his mother's superiority, which was different from what he had seen.
"Are you sure you know everything about your mother?"