Chapter 87 There is paper in the book, but I don't know what to say
Chapter 87: There is paper in the book, but I don’t know what to say
The green-curtained carriage slowly moved away along the stone path beside the wetland. The seemingly flat stone slabs were uneven and the soles were not easy to slip on, but the hard wheels would be shaken extremely violently. The Four Princesses of the Tang Dynasty in the carriage
Li Yu was in a daze with his chin propped up, feeling a little upset from being pushed up, so he found Ning Que even more disgusting.
She came to the academy today not for other things, but to see Ning Que.
She wanted to see what the young man who had accompanied her back from the grassland had become like now. She wanted to know the guy who had refused her recruitment at first, but ended up following the Chunfeng Pavilion to kill people all night long and fall into the eyes of Xu Chongshan.
, what is so special about it.
The most direct reason is that two freshmen in the academy went to the second floor of the old school for more than ten days just to have fun. This strange incident has spread out of the academy and reached her ears. When she found out that one of the freshmen was Ning Que, Lenovo
Recalling old man Lu Qingchen's previous comments, she could no longer suppress her curiosity and decided to come and take a look.
At first glance, it was still the same ordinary face, with a childish and clean face. There were still a few freckles and the shallow dimples were still in the same place, but his face was much paler than before, and he looked extremely unhealthy.
She didn't know why, but looking at Ning Que's pale face and the stubborn and sarcastic look on his face, she felt a little annoyed. If Zhong Dajun hadn't been sarcastic and irritated her, maybe she wouldn't have called him over at all.
.
Ning Que walked towards the old village, and the looks from the students around him were completely different from before, full of shock and confusion. Everyone was silently thinking in their hearts, could it be that the record on the academy roster was wrong and that this person was not a border soldier who had returned from Weicheng?
As the original legend said, he was a descendant of a certain surname in Qinghe County? If not, how could Her Royal Highness the Fourth Princess know him and even summon him to the car to say a few words?
Situ Yilan tilted her head slightly and looked at him curiously, probably guessing about the relationship between him and the princess. Jin Wucai hid half of his body behind Situ Yilan, a little ashamed and did not dare to look at him. Princess Li Yu
Having personally spoken out against Ning Que before, who dared to continue to question him? The embarrassed Zhong Dajun had already hid somewhere, while Xie Chengyun stood on the periphery of the crowd with a pale face, looking a little lonely.
Chu Youxian walked up to Ning Que, looked at him in surprise, and praised in a low voice: "No wonder everyone, Jian, refused to accept your money at the beginning. I didn't expect that your background is so deep. With the temperament of women like Situ Yilan, even if
It may not be easy for you to move out of the Prince's house today, and only the fourth princess can deal with them."
Upon hearing this, Ning Que became interested and asked, "What's the point of this?"
Chu Youxian laughed and said: "The reason is very simple. The so-called Chang'an Detachment of Women... was originally founded by the fourth princess out of boredom when she was a child. Noble girls like Situ and the others are the disasters created by Her Highness the Princess."
Ning Que smiled and did not explain his relationship with Princess Li Yu. He did not have the idea of making a coat out of tiger skin, but it was something he was happy to do to make the relationship more blurry and get some convenience from it.
Watching Ning Que walking towards the second floor, Xie Chengyun finally moved. He walked slowly into the building, ignoring the obstruction of everyone around him, holding on to the railing with his hands, his body kept shaking, and he walked up step by step with difficulty.
Ning Que held the thin book "A Preliminary Exploration of the Qi Sea and Snow Mountains" without opening it. Waiting for Xie Chengyun to pass by him and walk to the deepest part of the bookshelf, sitting cross-legged as usual, he suddenly
He opened his mouth and said: "You may be really proud of yourself, but I also have my own needs. You are the pride of heaven, and I am just a desperado trying to survive. There is a big difference between the two. I suggest you not to compete with me for a moment."
Long or short, you will lose your life."
When Xie Chengyun walked past him, he saw the book in his hand tightly closed. He thought that he was angry at his previous silence downstairs, so he wanted to continue gambling with him, but he did not expect that he would say such a thing.
——This talented man from the Southern Jin Dynasty, who had been extremely smart since childhood, was silent for a long time. He stared blankly at the pages on his lap and didn’t know what he was thinking. Then he stood up with difficulty while holding on to the wall, and bowed his arms to the ground.
Walk downstairs slowly.
The deep part of the bookshelf is closer to the west window, and the sun can shine in the afternoon. Ning Que walked over with a thin book, and sat down in the warm sunset, sitting cross-legged and thanking
Cheng Yun sat on the floor for many days. He closed his eyes for a long time and gently rubbed his pale and thin cheeks. He opened the book with a smile and continued reading.
"You can make some notes. Although you can't copy them or take them with you, they may be of some help."
Next to the new branches of some old trees by the east window, a female professor in a light-colored robe did not raise her head, concentrating on tracing her own small script. If Ning Que hadn't confirmed that he heard the voice, he would even doubt whether she had spoken.
He stood up with a slight start, walked to the Mingjixia table by the west window, looked at the pen, ink, paper and inkstone on the table, thought for a long time before sitting down, picked up the ink stick with his fingers, and began to grind it with his wrist in the clear water.
Copying of books in the building is strictly prohibited. Even if you want to filter the magical words in the cultivation books through your mind and turn them into ordinary handwriting and copy them on white paper, it is not feasible. Ning Que tried to meditate: when the fragments of memories flashed through his mind
When I want to turn it into writing and leave it on a white paper, the words in my mind will scatter like smoke and cannot be displayed at all.
And according to the old rules, no traces can be left on the books. Ning Que didn't know if his teacher would find out if he tampered with them, but he had never tried to play such a trick these days. He had countless lives and deaths over the years.
The battle has long made him understand that when faced with those mountains that must be crossed, any little cleverness will appear very stupid. At that time, what you need is the kind of great wisdom that is almost stupid.
What should be written? In this case, what kind of words can be counted as taking notes? Ning Que held up his pen for a long time, but was unable to put it down on the paper because he had forgotten the notebook he had written earlier.
What he saw in the booklet, he didn't know what to write on the paper at this time.
"Perhaps the things you are doing so hard are meaningless, right?"
He smiled slightly at himself, thinking about the hard work he had gone through these days, thinking about the pain every night, and thinking about Sangsang using hot towels to apply on his forehead every night.
The world of spiritual practice is indeed so difficult. No matter how hard you try, it seems that failure can only make failure seem a bit tragic.
There was a soft popping sound, and the ink-filled brush hovered in the air for too long. A drop of ink fell down and landed on the snow-white paper. The ink spread quickly along the fibers on the paper, blooming into a cloud of hair.
Irregular beauty.
Ning Que looked down at the mass of ink marks, and suddenly his heart moved slightly. The deepest slight sourness and disappointment was washed away, turning into absolute calm. At this moment, he understood everything: not every love song has it.
Good memories, not every fairy tale has a happy ending, and not all efforts will be rewarded. If you work hard, it’s hard to decide what you get in the end, so just enjoy the process.
If you can’t write down anything small or big when you put pen to paper, don’t remember it. If you don’t know what to write, you can call it a note. Then write something else, such as your mood, your own experience, how you feel in the building, etc.
On the other side of the window, there is a picture of a quiet female professor with a white wall, old trees and new branches. The sunset on the west window is like the afterglow of the moment when candles are cut...
"Go up another floor, go up another floor. All the worries I had before are gone now. I am a young man collecting firewood by the Sobi Lake. Why should I insist on imitating what others say about the cool weather? It is important to know that it is not autumn today."
He picked up the pen and wrote randomly on the paper. He didn't have any specific thoughts. He just wrote casually according to his thoughts at this moment. As the pen tip wrote clear and beautiful words on the paper, the feeling between his chest and abdomen
The extremely depressed mood seemed to be gradually wiped away like ink and disappeared without a trace.
"I have been in the building for seventeen days, practicing hard every day, but I can't cultivate the words into my heart. I can only watch them slip away. I have been awake, and I have fallen into a dark and sweet dream for no reason, but they always
Not here."
"If they are false on paper, why can I see them? If they are real, why can't I remember them? If they exist between reality and fiction, is the ink that writes them real or false?
False? Is the paper carrying them real or false?"
Since he was just expressing his feelings casually, Ning Que suddenly didn't want to write any more at this point, so he stopped and put the pen down, quietly looking at the words on the paper, and after the paper was dry, he gently put it into the thin book.
, then put the book back on the bookshelf, turned around and bowed respectfully to the female professor by the east window, and walked downstairs.
For the first time in many days, he walked downstairs by himself instead of being carried downstairs.
The female professor looked up at the young man's somewhat disappointed back, sighed softly, and silently thought about the old rules set by the teacher: Thousands of trees and sails only allow students to choose one branch and one wind. Although this student has a strong will, he has accumulated the power of meditation.
You will definitely not be weak, but the snow-capped mountains and seas of energy are incomprehensible, and you will end up vomiting blood and being weak and bedridden in the end. Even if Haotian takes pity on you and gives you tenacity and good health, what's the use of continuing to watch like this for another eighty years?
Dusk was getting thicker and night was approaching. No one climbed up to the second floor. The female professor packed up the pens, inks, paper and inkstones in front of her and walked along a side path between the buildings towards the back mountain.
I don’t know how long it took, but darkness enveloped the academy and the mountain behind it. The academy buildings in the broad meadow were lit with lights, scattered everywhere like stars in the sky.
Deep in the deserted old second floor, a few strands of intricate carvings on the bookshelf against the north wall suddenly brightened for a moment, and then slowly and quietly slid away to the side.
A fat young student wearing a dark blue academy robe gasped and squeezed out of the gap. He looked back at the bookshelf with some annoyance and complained: "I don't know who designed this thing. Don't you know?"
Make the exit bigger? Have you never thought that the academy will also recruit a few fat people?"
The fat young man muttered and walked to the bookshelf, muttering something in his mouth: "Second Senior Brother, this bad guy, insists on betting on introductory books. Although I, Chen Pipi, am an unparalleled genius, how can I still remember the things I read when I was a child?"
Talking to himself, he pulled out a thin book from the bookshelf, looked at the words "A Preliminary Exploration of Qihai Snow Mountain" on the cover, and patted it gently with satisfaction. As he patted, a very thin white sheet appeared.