Zhang Ling made a stand by himself, and pasted a piece of crude rice paper on the wooden board. Then he couldn't find anything as convenient as chalk, so he had to use inferior bamboo brushes to dye it. A gentle rustling sound lingered in the hut, and there were only a few traces of it underneath. Ying lay on the table and fell asleep without making any sound.
Zhang Ling took another stool and sat on it, with a faint smile on his lips. It turned out that this was how he felt at the time, and it seemed pretty good.
The light shone brightly and the mist gradually disappeared. The little girl on the desk raised her head and rubbed her eyes. Seeing her waking up, Zhang Ling joked: "You are the first student to arrive, so sit down first." "
She put her coat aside and sat upright according to Zhang Ling's words. After waiting for a while, a tall and thick man walked in one after another. They were not noisy in the market. It was obvious that Hou Liu had warned him early. Then five or six little boys jumped up and down. Enter and sit away from her without exception.
Zhang Ling didn't pay attention, and just started teaching these bandits who couldn't read Chinese characters to write one by one according to his own method. Of course he would scold them with a ruler when he saw the characters like rugged mountain roads.
The people who were much older than themselves were enjoying themselves while writing, but the children were reserved and reserved. One of the boys with rosy cheeks suddenly stood up with his hand raised, he pointed at Xu Ying and said: "Sir, why is this woman here?" This is against etiquette in the school."
Zhang Ling did not immediately refute, but asked: "Where do the etiquette come from? Where do the rules come from?"
The little boy said sternly: "Women are not allowed to be officials or go to school. This has been true since ancient times."
Zhang Ling said unhurriedly: "I have never heard of such a rule, at least my husband has never taught me. You think you are superior to him, but where are you superior? I don't have that kind of pedantry here. Rules, if you feel this is humiliating, you can walk out of this door."
Zhang Ling always spoke calmly and did not overwhelm him with the elder's aura. He only understood the truth. He did not sit down or go out, but stood and listened. Zhang Ling was a little surprised by this and asked: "What's your name?" ?”
He stood up straight and replied: "Sir, my name is Ruan Xiaoqi."
From this morning on, Zhang Ling would see a large group of bandits coming to study early in the morning. Those who arrived late would also sit at the door and enjoy sketching. Zhang Ling read it over and over again for several days, not to mention writing it down. Even writing words was difficult. As time went by, several children with different opinions sat together. However, Zhang Ling noticed that Xu Ying became more and more silent. After talking to her, she only said that she wanted to learn boxing. Zhang Ling thought about it, but still did not teach her Yun Po. fist. Zhang Ling could only talk for an hour every day, and they all went about their own business.
There are several fields growing crops on the mountain. People are taking care of them every day, picking up pests and pulling out weeds. The field to the west is being planted by an old man with gray hair. He wears a pair of rag shoes. Now the corn seeds have just been planted. After sowing, only a few tender shoots came out, but the weeds were getting better and better. The old man pulled out the roots bit by bit, held a handful in his hand, and when he couldn't hold it anymore, he threw it outside the field. He stood up and straightened his old waist. I happened to see Zhang Ling wandering around. He stopped and smiled at the young man, showing his incomplete big yellow teeth: "Master Zhang."
Zhang Ling bowed his head, shook his head and said, "Grandpa Ruan, whether it's self-cultivation or running the country, I haven't accomplished anything. I really can't afford to be called a master."
The old man's name was Ruan Qian, who was Ruan Xiaoqi's grandfather, but he never knew which one it was, so Zhang Ling took it upon himself to write the word "Qian" for him. It didn't mean "migration", but just hope. In his old age, he could still walk more, so Ruan Qian was not too busy. He found a bundle of dry grass for Zhang Ling to sit on. He sat casually on the ridge of the field and said in a serious tone: "Others will hear that we are a bandit's den. , just spitting disgust, even though the boss forced you to go up the mountain, old man, I can also see that you are sincerely teaching the people of Qingfeng Village how to read, and you also let those children solve the conflict, old man, I accept death , just a few points are enough for people in this village to call you master."
Zhang Ling looked straight at him, obviously in a daze. After he came back to his senses, he smiled and said: "My husband has said something similar before. Ordinary people can't go, evil ghosts can't go, and there is no way to go, so I won't give up either." He explained to me , as long as there is the voice of writing, he will be there. I thought at the time that he was just bragging, but he is a gentleman after all, so it is not easy to undermine him."
The old man smiled with a slit in his eye: "Master is a real master."
Zhang Ling did not talk about the past and asked: "What happens next? Once people's knowledge is broad, their hearts will be far away. Those children may not necessarily live in a mountain village. Are you willing to do so?"
The old man said calmly: "It doesn't matter if they can get out of the village. Even the old man, I don't want them to be bandits for the rest of their lives. They should all have their own way."
Zhang Ling nodded and smiled: "That's right. Studying literature will help you gain a lot, and it will also increase your six desires. When you get tired of reading books, you always want to travel around the world."
Zhang Ling said a few more words to him, then stood up and left. The old man continued to work in the field. For the old man, this land was his world.
…
Walking deeper into the forest, the trees are sparse, but there are few people coming and going. In the past few days, the swords have been dancing, and many of the thick cypress trees have been cut off. The young man waved the two-color fire pattern knife in his hand, back and forth in the forest. A shallow swim, with a slight improvement compared to the previous day.
The sword with the two-color fire pattern was naturally the Heaven-Forming Knife, and the young man was naturally Song Linjie. He held the Heaven-Forming Knife tightly and slashed at the big tree three meters away with one strike. The tree fell suddenly, leaving only a smooth cut. Zhang Ling, who was sitting on the tree, was forced to jump down and reprimanded: "In my hometown, cutting down trees will lead to lawsuits."
Song Linjie ignored what he said and continued practicing his sword. Zhang Ling asked with a smile: "What are you doing these days?"
Song Linjie stopped and retracted his sword, and said angrily: "Thanks to you, I have been pretending to be stupid all day long to cheat you out of candy, and I have to go to a place like this to practice my sword. But you, are you healed?"
Zhang Ling glanced outside the forest and said, "When I fought with Cheng Yu, I injured two meridians. I could have used elixirs to restore them, but I suddenly discovered that there was something strange about my body-building secret technique. , if you let it repair itself, your body will become stronger, so if you leave, I will probably have to ask you to wait for a few more days."
Zhang Ling changed his tone again and said in a casual tone: "After all, this is my first time being a teacher, so I can't give up halfway. I'll just ask you to be a fool for a few more days, and wait until the capital invites you to drink."
Song Linjie waved his hand and practiced the sword tirelessly. Zhang Ling walked back to the village by himself. It was getting late, so he climbed up to the roof with a pot of wild camellia. It had been in disrepair for the first few years, and Zhang Ling fell off as soon as he climbed up. Sitting on the eaves, sipping hot tea to relieve the cold wind, watching the silence around me.
Halfway through the tea was about to get cold. Zhang Ling turned over and jumped off the roof. He happened to see a group of black people coming towards him, showing an ugly and flattering smile. Zhang Ling used his hand to push his face away: "Wu Heizi, If you are not busy robbing the rich and giving to the poor, why are you here?"
In the dark night, Wu Heizi showed a flattering smile that could not be seen clearly, and said: "Sir, just... my three-legged cat... how dare you, I heard the boss said... that you know martial arts, No...I wonder if you can teach...teach me two moves?"
Zhang Ling turned his eyes and said no, "No."
"Then...just now..."
"I was just lucky that I didn't fall."
"Sir, just teach... teach the little one two... two moves."
"Don't teach!"
"gentlemen……"
"Oh, forget it. If you can do it by yourself one day, I will teach you."
"Many...thank you sir."
