"When I was young, there were no books at home, so I borrowed "Selected Works" and saw an article from "Ode to Nagato". It felt like I had read it, and the same was true for "Li Sao".
Yuan Mei, a great talent of the Qing Dynasty, said this in his poems.
And there is another story involved in this.
The protagonist of the story is Huang Tingjian, a figure who was Su Dongpo's mentor and friend during the Northern Song Dynasty.
It is said that he took a nap one day when he was the governor of the state. In his dream, he dreamed that he walked out of the Yamen and came to a village. He saw an old woman setting up an incense table to pray. There was a bowl of celery noodles on the table. Huang Tingjian picked it up and ate it.
When I woke up, the smell of celery was still in my mouth.
This is a very strange dream. Although it is strange, it is nothing more than that.
However, Huang Tingjian had the same dream again the next day!
Surprised, after waking up, Huang Tingjian followed the path in the dream, and then actually came to a village and met the old woman in the dream. After asking, he learned that yesterday was the death anniversary of his daughter. After asking again,
The anniversary of his death was Huang Tingjian's birthday, and it was in the same year.
If it stops here, it can be said to be just a coincidence.
But what happened next became even more bizarre. The girl loved reading during her lifetime and left behind a large bookcase with books. The cabinet was locked and the old woman didn’t know where the key was. However, Huang Tingjian found the key and opened it as if he had traveled to a new place.
bookcase.
There are many manuscripts in the bookcase, and the content of the manuscripts is very familiar to Huang Tingjian. He studied all the way, and many of the manuscripts are exactly the same as the ones here!
…
The authenticity of this story cannot be determined, but judging from the fact that various records in unofficial anecdotes are often self-contradictory, it is most likely to be fake, just like the story of Su Dongpo's sister Su Xiaomei. - There is no real person and no real thing.
.
This anecdote appeared in Xu Guangling's mind at this time, and what he thought about was not whether it was true or false.
Rather, they are various bits and pieces from records or rumors from ancient times to the present.
Starting from what Confucius said about "knowing things from birth" to the "talent given by heaven" to various young prodigies, such as Fang Zhongyong, who also lived in the Song Dynasty.
Judging from the suspicion that Huang Tingjian's story was fabricated, this is a definite factual record, coming from Wang Anshi's "Shang Zhongyong". Of course, it is possible that Wang Anshi fabricated it or was deceived. But this possibility is unlikely.
"Fang Zhongyong, a citizen of Jinxi, lived in farming for a long time. For five years, Zhongyong didn't know the writing utensils, so he suddenly cried out for them. When his father was separated, he borrowed something from a nearby place and wrote four lines of a poem, and named it after himself."
Shi Ligeng.
I don't know any writing utensils.
That is, write four lines of poetry and give it your own name.
Taken together, these three descriptions demonstrate in a very concise yet very concrete way what "talent is like a gift from heaven" means.
Not smart.
It's not learned.
And that is——
Born to know it!
To put it simply, some people are born with their consciousness starting from a blank piece of paper, while some people are born with a basket of things. Once certain conditions are met, the things in the basket will be triggered.
Previously, Xu Guangling thought that this fact was related to the situation of the Ito sisters, that is, they were born with special talents and their acupoints were different from ordinary people.
But now, what Jian Tianjing said shows another possibility.
Xu Guangling stood quietly outside the town for a long time, waiting until the wisps of white mist in that room slowly spread like smoke, from inside to outside the room, and then continued to spread little by little until it completely dissipated.
disappear.
This process lasted about three days.
"What did those scattered fragments of consciousness become? The most primitive micro-energy without any information?" Xu Guangling suddenly thought of such a question.
"No".
"Like tree leaves falling into the soil?" After thinking about it, Xu Guangling asked again.
This question was affirmed by the Sky Jianjing.
"yes".
Whenever autumn and winter come, the leaves of the trees fall off one after another, fall to the ground, and rot or decompose into new soil little by little.
But this soil is not soil in the general sense. It is developed and created soil with many "active substances". Many of the ingredients in this soil can be used as direct raw materials and absorbed by vegetation.
When his thoughts turned to this point, Xu Guangling was shocked and speechless again, or it couldn't be said to be shocked, but similar to numbness.
"Countless micro-fragments of consciousness shroud the world, so... the more people there are, the more micro-fragments of consciousness, and the more micro-fragments of consciousness will be absorbed by newborns... Therefore, the growth and evolution of human beings is a kind of superposition.
, on such a basis, the overall development of human consciousness is in the process of accelerating growth?"
"yes".
Xu Guangling was silent.
So, life or death...
Is life just like the waves on the sea? The waves are constantly coming and going, but the waves are eternal.
No wave can last forever. The new ones will soon disappear, and new ones will bloom. However, every new life is not a complete new life, but contains certain elements of the old individual.
Life, in this way, is interpreted one after another.
The old woman's chanting continued.
In the past three days, she had not eaten, and only slept a little time every day, then recited, and then when she was very thirsty, she only drank a small amount of water before continuing.
On the third day, Xu Guangling witnessed the death of another old man in the town.
It should be related to the heavy snow or the cold weather. Under the harsh climate, some old people whose lives are on the borderline between life and death were dragged to the other side of death.
This was the first time that Xu Guangling witnessed a life from birth to death after becoming a Grand Master.
Late at night, while sleeping, at the moment when the old man was approaching death, his life aura, which was already slow, stagnant, thin, and faintly scattered, suddenly shrank as if it had received some huge stimulus.
The scattered halo of life shrank in an instant, condensed in an instant, and went from dim to bright in an instant, perhaps even brighter than it had ever been in his life.
Just like the old kerosene lamps, the lights suddenly exploded.
However, just after this sudden explosion, the brightness was instantly extinguished and completely extinguished.
Accompanying this explosion and extinction are wisps of white mist rising from the body of the deceased, the so-called soul or fragments of consciousness.
Just like after the oil lamp was extinguished, smoke began to disperse.
It seems that the halo of life was not completely destroyed, and the remaining part turned into these white mist.
Looking at the white mist in another small room in the distance, Xu Guangling's expression was solemn and solemn.
Returning to the pile of mottled and decaying rocks more than a hundred kilometers away, Xu Guangling looked at the rocks for a long time, looking at the rocks one after another.
The stones are large and small, new and old, although the newest ones are dozens or hundreds of years old.
There are writings engraved on each piece. Some of them were carved with formal tools, and the writing was deep and clear. Some of them may have been scratched with wood or sharp stones at that time, and the writing was very blurred. Some of them were already scratched. Completely disappeared, leaving only a slight mark.
The contents of those handwritings include Sanskrit, Tibetan, and Chinese. Some of these words are paragraphs of scripture, some are just a short sentence, and some are just one or two words.
"Well".
"Moo".
There are also "Hum", "Bei", "Bei", etc.
There are also parts of many characters that are incomplete, leaving only the words "niu" or "口" which are also somewhat incomplete.
Looking at these handwritings and looking at these stones, Xu Guangling seemed to be looking at different moods and sustenance through the years, vicissitudes, mottled smoke, dust and oblivion.
Some pray for life, some mourn for death, and some give blessings.
Others may just express a simple greeting to a certain mysterious existence.
"I'm holding your hand"
"You follow me"
"Once you leave, it will last forever."
Xu Guangling also summoned a stone from the wild, engraved these words on it, and then threw the new stone into the pile of fallen stones.
The old woman's husband.
When he was young, he was in a temple and learned love poems from the master there.
It was also the only poem that he knew in his life.
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Thanks to "Xiaowei's Xiaowei" for the recommendation vote and support.
Thanks to the monthly votes of "Alas This Sigh" for supporting me.