The old man put the paintbrush covered with ink into the inkstone. Then he stood up and looked at the hazy Qinhuai River with his hands behind his back. Listening to the sound of vocals coming from the boat in the river, his gray beard was dancing in the wind, and his eyes were filled with tears.
Looks indifferent.
The students around him looked at the old man in confusion. They didn't know why he stopped writing.
After a long time, the old man turned around. Looking at the students with big eyes and small eyes in front of him, he chuckled and said, "Students, do you have any wise words?"
As soon as these words came out, many students were seen. Some raised their heads and looked at the flowing clouds. Some looked down at the grass. They all pretended not to hear.
The old man didn't take it seriously, he just touched his beard and smiled, as if he had foreseen this situation a long time ago.
"If that talented man can write words that satisfy me, then how about I give this painting away?" As soon as these words came out, the eyes of the talented men who pretended not to hear them all lit up.
stand up.
These students still have some skills in appreciating paintings.
Maybe some people don't know this old man and don't know his identity. But just by looking at this painting, you can tell that it is not ordinary.
Anyone who can paint such vivid paintings must be a famous artist in the world. From ancient times to the present, masterpieces by famous artists must be handed down from generation to generation.
If you can take this painting home and pass it down to your children and grandchildren, it will definitely become a family heirloom.
Thinking of this, the talented students showed eager expressions in their eyes. Several students had already rolled up their sleeves and walked over.
"The young man accidentally came up with a song, so he used it as a way to attract others. Show off your ugliness, show your ugliness, haha!" Although he said "show off his ugliness," his face looked indifferent. But when these talents picked up the brush, it was due to excessive nervousness.
The trembling hands still show that they actually care about other people's opinions.
As more and more people showed off their talents, other students who were watching also stepped forward to leave their masterpieces.
Among so many students swarming forward, Lu Heng stood out under the willow tree, smiling and joking with Liu Qingqing.
Lu Heng, on the other hand, stood there with an indifferent expression, holding his arms and chin, looking at the dancing lyrics on the rice paper, nodding his head.
As expected of ancient times, anyone picked out at random would be good at writing.
He looked at the paper full of lyrics with admiration, but Liu Qingqing beside him pointed at the group of talented people and asked him with a smile: "Uncle, why don't you go?"
Lu Heng shook his head with a smile, looked at the white rice paper filled with poems and said, "I'm not very good at poems! It's better not to come forward and embarrass yourself!"
Liu Qingqing pursed her lips and smiled, raised her fingers to lift a strand of black hair beside her ears. She bit her lips lightly and said softly: "Uncle, you are being modest on purpose, right?"
Lu Heng stretched out his fingers, rubbed his forehead, and smiled twice, but did not deny it.
In fact, there is really no need to go up and compete with these people for a painting. Although this painting can be called priceless in later generations, Lu Heng really has no idea about this eternal masterpiece at this time. For him,
As long as you can appreciate the process of the painting appearing and breathe the rich bookish air, it is enough.
Moreover, he was accompanied by Qin Huaihe, who was covered with gauze. Beside him, there was also a graceful Jiangnan woman.
Breeze, weeping willows, talented people, ladies, and an old man painting by the Qinhuai River. This is already an extremely pure picture.
Since you are already in the painting, why bother looking for masterpieces?
The old man glanced at the poems mentioned by the students and shook his head in disappointment.
"Teacher, do you see any of these poems that catch your eye?" After the talented people had filled the page, they continued to express themselves. While the students were showing off, the boy next to the old man took it over
A pair of rice paper filled with lyrics, asked respectfully.
The old man had no intention of connecting. He just glanced at it lightly and shook his head in disappointment: "It's just some romantic words, but it's a pity that the literary talent is not there!"
"What should I do with these lyrics? Have they been burned?" The boy held the rice paper in his hand, waiting for the old man's answer.
The old man took one look and shook his head: "It's a work of hard work, so I'll give it to you! Haha!"
The old man smiled with comfort, but the twelve or thirteen-year-old boy curled his lips and looked at those magnificent lyrics with disdain: "I don't want it!"
The old man laughed, turned around and looked at the students who were still waving their hair. He shook his head.
Suddenly, he turned his head inadvertently, and found that under the willow tree not far away, a student wearing a shabby gown had no intention of coming forward to show off. To him, seeing those students waving their hair seemed to be more interesting than the students who came forward.
It's more fun to join in the fun.
"Haha, it turns out there are still people who can keep their minds and not be tempted!" The old man looked at Lu Heng, whose gown was dancing in the wind under the willow tree, and said with a smile while stroking his beard.
"I'll go take a look!" The boy said with a smile and walked towards Lu Heng.
When the old man saw the boy running over, he puffed out his chest and pointed at the scholar and asked. However, the student kept smiling and looked at the boy with a smile. Then, he saw the scholar stretching out his hand and laughing happily.
He rubbed the boy's forehead, and the boy immediately jumped up in anger. The woman in green stood aside, watching this and that scholar playing with the children, covering her mouth and snickering.
Later, I saw the scholar seemed to say something to the boy. The angry boy was quickly attracted to him. He squatted under the willow tree and listened to what the scholar said. He also picked a branch in his hand and placed it on the ground.
Write and draw.
Then, the scholar stood up and rubbed the boy's bare forehead again. Then he turned around and left with the woman in green.
"How's it going? Have you asked clearly?" The old man asked, stroking his beard with a smile when he saw Wu Zi jumping back happily.
Wuzi shook his head and said: "He refused to say it, but he gave me a poem! Grandpa, look!"
"oh?"
The old man let out a slightly surprised sound. After taking the small piece of paper from Xiao Wu's hand, he took one look at it and could no longer look away.
"Qinhuai talks silently about the setting sun, the rushing water reflects the red makeup, the merchant girls do not know the hatred of the country's subjugation, and the joyful songs still ring around the gallery. Who will lament the rise and fall?"
On the palm-sized piece of paper, Xiao Wu's poor calligraphy was crookedly written with a few lines of words. However, the feelings of concern for the country and the people revealed between the lines were like the Qinhuai River flowing quietly, although silently.
breathy, but dignified and thick enough.
"Who will lament the rise and fall!" After a while, the old man put this small piece of paper into his sleeve as if he was treasured some unique treasure. He turned his head, looked at the misty Qinhuai River, and sighed.