There was a loud bang at the door of the Taoist Temple, and Fang Sihai said, "I'm afraid the old Taoist is a little deaf, so let's break down the door and get in."
Fang Jun looked towards the top of the mountain and said, "It's still early. How about we go up to the top of the mountain and sit and admire the moon and watch the snow?"
The group of people climbed slowly again and reached a steep slope. The mountain path could no longer be discerned further up, and there was a cliff on one side of the mountain path. Fang Jun said: "We can't go up any more. It's too dangerous. We will definitely die if we slide down."
There were only trees and rocks here, and there were no pavilions or buildings to rest on. Everyone returned to the Taoist temple and asked the loud-voiced servant to shout: "Old Taoist, open the door. The young master of Mr. Fang's family has come here at night to enjoy the snow."
After shouting for a while, the veteran finally opened the door and stared at the group of people in shock.
Li Siwen said carelessly: "Old Taoist, if you have good wine and good meat, hurry up and bring it over."
The old Taoist rubbed his cloudy old eyes, looked at it carefully for a moment, and then said: "There are only some leftovers, no meat or wine."
Li Siwen shouted: "You are such a stingy old man. Tomorrow I will send a servant to give you money for sesame oil. Why can't you get a sip of wine?"
The old Taoist laughed and said: "There is no meat or wine in the small Taoist diet."
The eldest grandson Jiaqing interjected: "You are not a monk, how can you eat fast!"
Fang Jun stopped the two men from making trouble and said: "You two, please stop making noise. I will ask the servants to bring wine later. The journey is not far anyway. Let's enjoy the moon and snow first."
Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong sat side by side in front of the mountain gate of the Taoist temple. Fang Jun sat on the left side of Fang Xiuzhu, looking at the Xinfeng County town stretching at the foot of the mountain. Thousands of families were covered with snow, and the streets were all white. The crisscrossing rivers outline the outline of the city.
There are several plum trees in front of the gate of Taoist Temple. They grow randomly among the rocks, but they are full of plum blossoms like snow, with a faint fragrance.
Fang Xiuzhu said: "Long'er, look, isn't this a natural ink painting? It's a pity that I don't know how to paint. Otherwise, if I could paint this scenery, it would be extremely beautiful."
Li Yulong bit his lip gently, his big eyes were a little blurry, as if he was full of thoughts, and did not reply.
Fang Jun looked up at the sky. The moon at the beginning of the twelfth lunar month was as crescent as a string. The night sky was cloudless behind the snow. The moon was bright and cold, and the moon was shining brightly on the ground. Moreover, because of the contrast between the mountains and the snow, the crescent moon in the sky was indifferent. Losing color, as dim as white paper.
There is a bright moon on the sea, and the world is at this moment together.
This is not the sea, nor are I and my distant relatives under the same bright moon. What is separated in the middle is not the mountains and rivers, but the endless thousands of years of time...
"Leaving hatred is like grass in spring. The longer you travel, the farther you go..."
Fang Jun murmured silently, thinking of his parents and relatives who would never meet again in this life, his eyes filled with mist, and the ecstasy of longing stabbed his heart like a sharp awl, and the heart-piercing pain... …
"Second brother, this poem is so strange. Aren't most poems wordless or seven-character?"
It was a quiet snowy night, and although Fang Jun's voice was small, Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong could hear Fang Jun's murmur clearly.
Fang Jun completely let down his guard against these two little girls and showed no signs of wariness.
Hearing this, he smiled and said: "Poetry expresses aspirations, so how can there be a fixed specification? Besides, there are many four-character poems in the Book of Songs, and there were also many six-character poems before the Southern and Northern Dynasties."
Li Yulong blinked with beautiful eyes: "The two lines of the poem just now are very good, but I have never heard of them. Why don't Brother Fang read out the whole poem and listen to it?"
Fang Jun didn't care, and he didn't need to hide his "clumsy" in front of these two innocent little girls, so he softly chanted: "Don't come here in the middle of the spring, it will touch your eyes and break your heart. The fallen plum blossoms are like snow, and they are still full after being brushed all over." There is no news about the coming of wild geese, and it is difficult to realize the dream of returning home after a long journey. Abandonment and hatred are just like spring grass, the farther you travel, the more you will live..."
This is a song "Qing Ping Le" written by Li Yu, the empress of the Southern Tang Dynasty, which means missing relatives far away in spring. The whole poem is full of emotions about the scenery, and tries its best to express the chaotic feelings - the plum blossoms falling down the stairs are as chaotic as falling snow; the body is brushed again and again, and the falling flowers cover the whole body, expressing the deep feelings for the person in memory.
It fit Fang Jun's mood at this time, and he liked this poem very much before, so he chanted it casually.
Fang Xiuzhu looked confused: "I've never heard of it. Where did the second brother see it?"
Li Yulong once again looked toward the distance down the mountain with a resentful look, his whole body filled with a touch of sadness.
Before Fang Jun could answer, he heard someone behind him say: "This little brother is here to invite me. May I ask who wrote this poem? Has it ever been seen in books?"
Fang Jun turned around in surprise and saw a middle-aged Taoist priest standing in the snow behind him with his hands behind his back.
The hair is tied into a high bun and fixed with a wooden hairpin inserted horizontally.
He wore a moon-white Taoist robe that was neat and simple. It was worn on his tall and thin body and swayed with the mountain wind. There was a faint sense of ease that was carried away by the wind. He was wearing cloud-head shoes.
He has slender eyebrows, bright eyes, straight bridge of nose, thin cheeks and slightly sunken cheeks, and three strands of black beard under his upper jaw, giving him a somewhat immortal demeanor.
With Fang Jun's experience, he could see that this Taoist priest was extraordinary, so he stood up and cupped his hands and said, "The Taoist priest is polite."
Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong also stood up, bowed slightly, saluted, and left together.
It is said that the social atmosphere at this time is open, and it is not inappropriate for a strange man and woman to be in the same room. However, after all, the two women are ladies of the family, so they still need to be reserved.
The Taoist priest bowed slightly to say goodbye, and then returned the courtesy to Fang Jun: "You are so polite, little brother... I am a humble Taoist, but I don't know who wrote the poem just now?"
It's Li Yu... Of course you can't say that. The queen who conquered the country has not yet been born. Where can this person be?
Fang Jun joked: "I met a wandering monk by chance a few days ago. I heard him chant casually and I remembered it."
"Wandering monk?"
The Taoist priest frowned slightly, quite surprised. How could a wandering monk have such high literary attainments? Could it be some eminent monk who traveled around the world?
He never thought whether this poem was written by Fang Jun himself.
As Fang Jun himself said just now, poetry is written by expressing aspirations and feelings. Without corresponding experience and experience, it is difficult to express such sad and sorrowful emotions.
Fang Jun looked at the Taoist temple behind him and wondered: "Is it possible that the Taoist priest lives in this Taoist temple?"
In the memory of his inheritance and Fang Yiai, he had visited this dilapidated Taoist temple more than once. He only remembered that the abbot of the Taoist temple was an old Taoist priest who was old and frail, but he had never remembered such a person with such an refined temperament. .
The Taoist priest said with a smile: "Exactly, I encountered some difficult problems recently, so I came here to stay and think quietly."
Fang Jun nodded and said: "This is a nice and well-thought-out place. I'm just sorry. I guess it must have been me who arrived unexpectedly and disturbed the Taoist Master's Qingxiu?"
The Taoist priest smiled casually: "If the mind is not calm, even if you are alone in a shabby room, you will still be anxious and uneasy; if your mind is calm, even if you are in a busy city, you will still concentrate and gather energy, so why bother?"
This Taoist priest was not only calm and gentle in temperament, but also full of wisdom in his conversation, which made Fang Jun very fond of him.
Then he laughed and said: "What the Taoist said is wrong. The best way to be calm is to have a clear mind and few desires. Since the Taoist has desires in his heart, how can he be calm?"
The Taoist priest was stunned for a moment, thought about it carefully, and suddenly felt that what he said was reasonable. He bowed and said, "What I said, little brother, is the most reasonable thing in the world... This poor Taoist has been taught. Poor Taoist Li Chunfeng, but you don't know, little brother?"
Fang Jun quickly returned the courtesy: "I don't dare to take my surname as my name. I am Chang'an Fang Jun..." He thought to himself that the ancients were so polite.
Eh?
"What did you say your name was?"
"The poor Taoist Li Chunfeng."
"Li Chunfeng..." Fang Jun was so frightened that he almost fell to the ground.
Is he actually this living god?
