Chapter 101: A Message About the Flute of Heaven and Earth
Chapter 101: Message about the Xiao of Heaven and Earth
Ning Que didn't know that he had once again missed a great opportunity. Naturally, he also didn't know that he was tearing up an account book and writing a piece of papyrus in the brothel, and then being seen by a certain Talisman Master, which would lead to him becoming a famous person in the future.
With the emergence of two famous calligraphy works, the Chicken Soup Calligraphy and Yan's Woodcut Rubbings, today he is still the unknown young boss in Lin 47 Lane, the ordinary student who studies hard and makes progress in the academy.
After waking up from alcohol the next morning, he frowned and drank the bowl of chicken soup that had been heated for an unknown number of times with great difficulty. Then he called out to Sangsang who was about to clean up the stove. He looked at the little maid's dark face and looked at her very seriously.
He said: "I drank too much last night because I was too happy. I was so drunk when I came back that I didn't have time to tell you."
Sangsang raised her little face, raised her thin eyebrows, and opened her bright eyes. She looked at him curiously and asked: "Master, what makes you so happy? I have rarely seen you drink so much."
"
"In the old academy, I seemed to have discovered a way to understand those books."
Ning Que smiled and stretched out a finger, shaking it in front of the tip of her nose, and said: "Although it may be just a glimmer of hope, it is still hope after all. I think if possible, I must seize it."
The so-called hope is just an occasional denial of despair. Because it is only occasional, it is always difficult to last long. As a guy who has been played by fate for more than ten years, Ning Que knows better than anyone else that what he hopes for most is
In the end, it often turns into disappointment and despair. The greater the hope, the deeper the regret and regret in the end.
Whether it was the practitioner in the mountains of Yanjing, the assessment officer of the military department, the gentle old man Lu Qingchen during the journey, or the recent selection of surgical subjects when he was admitted to the academy, he endured the painful process of disillusionment again and again, and became more and more mature.
He became increasingly calm and even numb, but even so, on the surface he seemed not to care much about entering that magical world of practice, but deep down he never gave up hope.
Because he knows that if he wants to live in this world, live well, complete his revenge, and write his capital name on the fertile black soil of the Tang Dynasty, he must enter that world. If he wants to
Once all hope is given up, the ending will no longer be disappointment, but despair.
In order to seize the faint hope that existed, Ning Que once again adjusted his mental state to the most impassioned and sunny state. He would take the bus out of Chang'an City every morning when it was dark, and he would take the bus when it was extremely dark every day.
The car came back to Alley 47. I was often sleepy when studying the six subjects of classics in the morning. After the third dismissal bell rang, my whole body jumped up with energy as if I was choked by Nanting Island tobacco, rushed out of the bookstore and rushed into the stove.
Went to the church, chewed the lunch for two slowly, walked around the lake a few more times, then climbed up the stairs and climbed up again, holding the book in hand and not letting go.
He read the ink characters in the sun under the west window, and used the Eight Methods of Yongzi to disassemble all the words on the booklet into individual strokes. Then he carefully understood the direction and meaning of those strokes, and deliberately forgot their meaning.
The female professor was still quietly tracing hairpin flowers in small regular script by the east window. I don't know when she untied her bun, and her soft short hair that reached past her ears reflected the increasingly dense spring light outside the window. It was extremely warm and moist.
The silence reached the extreme. No matter how sincere Ning Que was in asking for advice, she would never give any advice.
One afternoon a few days later, he finally flipped through the middle part of the book "A Preliminary Exploration of Qihai Snow Mountain", and the ink characters that caught his eyes were disassembled into thousands of strokes, and then reassembled into
Thousands of Yong characters with different shapes and inexplicable meanings almost completely exhausted his mental and physical strength.
Ning Que rubbed his sore eyes and silently turned his head to look out the window at the increasingly thick green trees, but no matter which direction the duckweed swayed, he would eventually touch the wall of the pool and return slumped.
Somewhere in the deep mountains of the world, a famous scholar walked through the dense forest to visit a famous temple. When he opened the wooden door of a small temple, he learned that the eminent monk had already traveled all over the world.
In Ning Que's spiritual world at this moment, those extremely complicated strokes, those deconstructed into side radicals with no specific meaning, those horizontal and vertical lines and ink dots, suddenly appeared as he tried to meditate and understand.
It became more vivid. The ink marks gained sharp metal edges, and turned into the frightening knife array of the barbarian Golden Tribe on the grassland. The little brush strokes gained infinite moisture, and turned into the cold rain outside the Spring Breeze Pavilion, which began to fall, fall.
It's like cutting off countless heads with knives, and it's like a majestic and endless rainstorm. There's no end, just endless conflicts.
Suddenly, the whole world disappeared. He suddenly opened his eyes and broke away from the state of sitting and meditating. He felt a sharp dull pain in his chest. He couldn't help lowering his head and coughed. The slightly hoarse coughing sound was instantly torn apart.
In the tranquility of the old second floor, he hurriedly raised his sleeves to cover his lips, only to find some scarlet blood spots on his green sleeves.
"Master once said that acting with force is boring. Your body is not suitable for practice. Although you have amazing perseverance and even found some interesting methods,...if it doesn't work, don't persist."
At some point, the female professor walked up to Ning Que, looked at him with gentle eyes and spoke softly.
Ning Que looked up and realized that this female professor was extremely small in stature, with slender eyebrows and clear eyes. She couldn't tell how old she was. He knew that she must have used some method to force him out of meditation at the dangerous moment.
When he came out, he couldn't help but laugh at himself, stood up and wiped the blood stains from the corners of his lips, and bowed sincerely.
The female professor smiled and shook her head, indicating that he didn't need to be so serious. After nodding slightly, she took the hairpin and small regular script calligraphy and walked deeper into the bookshelf. She didn't know where to get out of the old book.
Unknowingly, Ning Que spent a lot of time meditating. It was already dusk outside the building. When night was approaching, he did not leave in a hurry. Instead, he stood quietly under the west window and listened to a piece of Cicadas.
He chirped intermittently due to unfamiliarity, then walked to the desk, polished the ink and wrote a paragraph on the paper.
Late at night, the symbols on the bookshelf deep in the old second floor were illuminated again, and then slid open to both sides silently. With a heavy gasping sound, Chen Pipi squeezed out with great difficulty, and the flesh on his fat face trembled extremely comically.
After leaving those words that night, he had been concerned about the other party's progress, but because Ning Que had taken sick leave, he had not heard back for several days. He was annoyed and curious. Unfortunately, these days,
The second senior brother who gave him the most headache and fear had no idea what was wrong with his brain. He suddenly mobilized his classmates who were left behind to collectively study the ancient Yin ritual sacrificial procedures. Under the repeated fatigue bombardment, he had no time or energy to come over.
Finally having some free time today, Chen Pipi didn't bother taking a bath and resting, and hurried over to Jiujiang, just to see if there was any reply from that poor and hateful guy.
Walking to the bookshelf and pulling out the thin book "A Preliminary Exploration of the Qi Sea and Snow Mountains", Chen Pipi raised his thick eyebrows and let out a light sigh. After reading for a moment, he smacked his lips and couldn't help but shook his head and said in admiration: "This guy is really awesome.
He is so bold and ambitious that he unexpectedly came up with such a stupid idea, and he actually understands it?"
What he saw was naturally Ning Que's first reply. Then, he saw Ning Que's latest message today. His thick lips couldn't help but smack louder and louder. He frowned and said in distress: "Even
You don’t understand this, but you still want to practice cultivation? I really don’t know if you are a genius or an idiot!”
After a moment of silence, Chen Pipi sat at the desk by the west window, polished his ink and began to reply. In his second exchange of letters with Ning Que, the talented student from Xiling wrote like this: "You are a
Are you a child? You don’t even understand such a basic truth? Since you don’t understand anything, you are ignorant. Naturally, you cannot resonate with the breath of heaven and earth. There is no other way. If you want to ask for specific truths, I can only give you
To make an analogy, our body is like a musical instrument, such as a flute, and the power of thought is the breath that goes back and forth in the flute. Having a flute and having breath does not necessarily mean that we can play beautiful music, because the sound comes from the hole of the flute.
It came from time to time.”
"If you don't even have holes in this flute, how can you play it? How can the heaven and earth sense your music if it can't hear it? There are so many ignorances in your snow-capped mountains and seas of energy, how else do you want to mess with it?"