Liu Mingzhi is homesick, not his home in Dalong Dynasty, but his home on earth.
Thinking about his parents, brothers, relatives, and all the people related to him, Liu Mingzhi never knew that he was also a sentimental person.
Wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Liu Mingzhi gently drank a glass of water and wine: "I haven't cried in a long time. I thought I was strong enough. But when the bad news suddenly came, I realized that I was also so fragile. A man can't help but cry."
It's a flick, but it doesn't get to the heartbreaking point."
After finishing speaking, he took a big gulp of wine: "Xiao Song, the four treasures of the study are waiting for you. Master, I want to express my feelings with poetry."
Liu Song looked worriedly at the drunken young master and said, "Master, you are drunk. Go and have a rest for the night. If you miss home, we can go back right away. Young master, the lady will be very happy."
Liu Song's words stimulated Liu Mingzhi's tear glands, and finally Liu Mingzhi couldn't help but burst into tears: "I can't go back. It's too late. I can't go back. Get the Four Treasures of the Study."
"Master, you?"
"Liu Song, you are so brave. Do you want to be an evil slave and bully your master? How dare you not listen to my words?" Liu Mingzhi lived up to his usual calmness and looked at Liu Song with anger in his eyes.
Hearing this, Liu Song plopped down and knelt on the ground: "Young Master, please forgive me. Xiao Song has eaten the heart of a bear and is too brave to be a slave and bully his master. Xiao Song will go and get the Four Treasures of the Study now."
Liu Mingzhi, who was stubborn but stubborn, Liu Song stood up, opened the book basket and took out the fine purple hair brush. Purple hair is extremely precious, and many people can't get it. Bai Juyi in the Tang Dynasty once wrote the popular "Poetry of Purple Hair" on a stone in Jiang Shang.
An old rabbit eats Liu Yinquan and produces purple hairs. Workers in Xuancheng pick them for pens and pick out one hair from thousands of hairs.
Someone later said: "Every year when Xuancheng writes, the price of purple hair is as precious as gold."
As the richest man in the south of the Yangtze River, Liu Zhi'an's purchase was not a big deal, but he still paid a lot of money. Sometimes, not everything can be bought, and some things have a price but no market.
Even though it was hard to find millions of dollars, Liu Zhian still handed Zihao to his son without hesitation, showing his high expectations for his son.
The Duan Inkstone is also not an ordinary product, but the Duan Inkstone, which ranks first among the four major inkstones. The Duan Inkstone has been famous in the world for its solid, smooth and delicate stone since ancient times. The Duan Inkstone grinds without sluggishness and produces ink quickly. It is one of the favorite inkstones among calligraphers.
one.
Liu Song carefully placed the pen, ink, paper and inkstone on the desk in front of Liu Mingzhi and began to grind it, watching from time to time to see if Liu Mingzhi could still stand up.
Liu Mingzhi drunkenly picked up the purple hair that Liu Song had prepared, shook his head a few times, and subconsciously began to splash ink on the rice paper.
""Thoughts on a Quiet Night."
"There is bright moonlight in front of the window, and I suspect it is frost on the ground. I look up at the bright moon and lower my head to think about my hometown."
After finishing speaking, the purple hair in his hand was written overnight, and he wrote four lines of poetry in a leisurely and unrestrained manner. It must be said that although Liu Mingzhi is a bit dandy, he was taught a very strict family by Liu Zhi'an, so Liu Mingzhi still wrote a good calligraphy.
The four lines of the poem were written in cursive by Liu Mingzhi eloquently, but Liu Mingzhi only wrote according to his own consciousness, and his brain was in chaos.
"Liu Song, do you know the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty? Do you know Genghis Khan? Do you know Li Bai? Have you ever heard of Du Fu?"
Liu Song quickly supported the sleepy Liu Mingzhi: "Master, you drank too much. Xiao Song has never heard of any of Tang Zong, Song Zu Li Bai and Du Fu."
"Hiccup, hiccup."
Liu Mingzhi burped twice: "It's fine if you haven't heard of it, then I'll be relieved."
After saying that, he continued to write. In the spring of the 26th year of Xuande of the Dalong Dynasty, Liu Mingzhi of Dangyang Academy looked at the moon and came to write with some thoughts.
After speaking, she vaguely picked up the wine bottle and walked to the window sill: "Chang'e, I would like to toast you a glass and bring my thoughts to my relatives. You must be very lonely above the moon. I feel the same way."
The crisp sound of the flute came, interrupting the sad Liu Mingzhi. Liu Mingzhi forced his drunken eyes to open and listened carefully to the sweet and moving flute sound.
The sound of the flute was melodious and gentle, and gradually reached the climax. Liu Mingzhi suddenly smiled lightly, smiling happily, and walked to the desk unsteadily. He stopped Liu Song who wanted to help him: "No need to help, the young master is not here yet."
Drunk."
Liu Mingzhi held the brush against his lower lip and thought for a while before starting to write "Listening to the Flute in Jinling on a Spring Night".
The sound of someone's jade flute is flying quietly, spreading into the spring breeze and filling Jinling. Hearing the broken willows in this nocturne, who can't help but feel the love of his hometown?
In the spring of the 26th year of Xuande's reign, Liu Mingzhi heard the willow tree bending outside the window and wrote a poem about it as a gift to tourists from all over the world who were traveling to other places.
Then he placed the Zihao Xuan pen on the pen holder and lay back precariously. Liu Mingzhi finally couldn't resist the intrusion of drunkenness and fell into a coma.
Liu Song hurriedly helped the young master up and carried him to the bed. He took off Liu Mingzhi's shoes and covered him with a quilt before shaking his head slightly.
"The master is right. The young master is really like a child who will not grow up."
Such old-fashioned words came from the mouth of a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, and they were full of joy.
"When a young boy leaves home and his elder brother returns home, his local pronunciation remains the same and his hair fades. When children see each other but don't recognize each other, they laugh and ask where the guests are from. It has been many years since I left home, and recently the people have been half wasted. Only the mirror lake in front of the door, the spring breeze does not change the old times.
Bo. Wuwuwu, there is no Li Bai and Du Fu, there is no Tang Zong and Song Zu, Wuwuwu, my one thousand taels, my soy milk and fried dough sticks, my one-stop service, old liar, my one thousand taels are gone.
That's it." After saying this, Liu Mingzhi fell into a deep sleep.
Liu Song was silent for a moment, then stood up and walked to the desk to carefully put away the pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and then took out a set of ordinary four treasures of the study.
Liu Song picked up the pen for a moment and finally made up his mind to start writing. The neat block letters appeared on the paper. The young boy left home.
Wen Renzheng stood behind Wen Ren Yunshu wearing a robe: "Yunshu girl, the night is getting cold, so stop playing the flute."