Jade Capital City, Sanhua Tower.
The calyxes are shining, the fragrances are blooming, and the outline of the imperial capital can be seen from the nine-story high platform.
This famous building in the capital not only has a long history dating back to the Zhou Dynasty, but also has famous people visiting it, and there is a constant flow of horses and horses in front of the door.
During the Great Zhou Dynasty, this was the most famous restaurant in Zhongtu Jiujiu. I heard that Taizu Taizu of the Great Zhou Dynasty also lingered here when he was conquering the world.
In today's Daqian, according to rumors spread among the people, the current emperor Yang Pan, who had just arrived in Dabao not long ago, also came.
It seems that the historical torrent of changing dynasties has not allowed Sanhua Building to decline.
Princes, nobles, wealthy merchants and merchants often hang out here.
One is for the heritage of Sanhua Building. After all, emperors from two dynasties have stayed here, so they naturally want to be a part of the emperor’s spirit.
Secondly, it is for the dazzling actors and actresses in it.
It has to be said that the latter is what all visitors are most looking forward to.
Different from ordinary brothels and flower alleys, since the establishment of Sanhua House, all the women in it have never sold themselves.
Even when the emperor was sitting in front of the hall, he could only see his exquisite skills in music, chess, calligraphy and painting. He could only watch them from a distance and not play with them.
This rule has not been broken in the past two hundred years.
It is a story that everyone talks about, but the background behind Sanhua Tower is probably unimaginable.
In these days, the former oiran Su Muzhe, whether due to illness or other matters, declined many guests and never showed up again.
For a time, all the guests who wanted to see the oiran complained.
But soon, the new oiran of Sanhua Tower climbed to the nine-story tower five days ago.
Her face was covered with a veil, and she was sitting horizontally playing the piano, like water from a clear spring, with beads falling on a jade plate, flowing straight into the depths of people's hearts.
It's like the graceful melody that the fairy Guanghan holds up the water falling in the Yaochi. Even the vulgar people like Gong Shangjiao Zhengyu who don't know anything about it can hear the mystery from it, making them feel as if they are intoxicated and dreamlike.
Moreover, the sound of the piano not only hung inside and outside the Sanhua Building, but also spread throughout a hundred feet radius like a breeze blowing across the earth.
Therefore, the entire Jade Capital City was boiling.
Thanks to the power of the Net of All Beings, everyone in the world today has the opportunity to practice martial arts and Taoism. Even if they cannot persist in front of the Taoist Master for long, they can still obtain the most basic body-refining method.
After broadening his horizons, he naturally knew how extraordinary this new oiran of Sanhua Tower was.
According to some benefactors with advanced cultivation, this piece of Guanghan Tianyin alone may have a cultivation level no less than that of ordinary ghosts and immortals.
Then, someone else took the risk to move his soul and jumped up to the nine-story high platform to look at his appearance. He actually lost his soul and murmured nonsense in his mouth.
No matter how many people ask questions, the only word left is "immortal".
For a time, everyone was flocking to the new oiran who had replaced Su Muzhe.
His appearance is like that of an immortal, his cultivation is superb, and his music is light and gentle. No matter what kind of person he is, he is like the starlight in the night sky, attracting the wealthy and wealthy.
I heard that several young Prince Xiaoyao, some Yamen who inherited the shadow of their ancestors, and Hong Xuanji, the popular military minister today, all came here.
As for the name of this new courtesan, it has already spread among the people:
Meng Bingyun.
…
"Bingyun, when I saw you for the first time yesterday, I couldn't control myself for a moment, so I drew a portrait for you and brought it here specially today."
In the exquisite and scattered high-rise pavilions, a man with a heroic appearance, about in his early twenties, was holding a portrait and handed it to a woman before he collapsed.
His eyes were sincere, his knuckles were slender and strong, and the aura around him seemed to carry the aura of possessing all the power in the world. His complexion was radiant, and there was actually a hint of indifferent fragrance between the opening and closing of his mouth and teeth.
The skin of the body is like jade, and the body is fragrant. This is a state that can only be achieved by a martial saint who has cultivated his body to the point of exchanging blood and cleansing the marrow.
Moreover, the inexplicable martial arts intention surrounding him seems to be standing in the middle stage of martial arts, melting the fist intention into one furnace.
This person is Hong Xuanji, the famous person next to the current Emperor Daqian. He is in his early twenties and is the Minister of Military and Aircraft of the second rank.
"I like this painting very much."
And just after Hong Xuanji handed over the scroll, the woman he called Bingyun took a closer look.
Then, she closed her eyes and raised the corners of her mouth slightly, like the tip of a crescent moon, making the entire Wenxiang Pavilion brighter.
With every frown and smile, coldness and playfulness appear one after another, like a fairy under the moonlight, and also like an elf lingering in the world. It is unforgettable and long-missing.
Hong Xuanji, who was sitting opposite, gently pinched his slender knuckles, and for a moment he couldn't control his energy and blood.
There is probably no man in the world who can remain unmoved by such a beauty.
"It's a pity that my painting skills are not as superb as Gan Daozi's. The person in this painting is no better than the person in front of me."
When Hong Xuanji saw Meng Bingyun chuckle, his eyes were slightly fixed, and then he spoke.
It turns out that he never believed in love at first sight, but yesterday when he accompanied a few idle princes, he felt that all the women he had seen in the past were so miserable.
Moreover, he keenly discovered that the firm Taoist heart he had always had since practicing martial arts actually left a trace of the other party.
"Brother Hong, please don't praise me too much. Qian Daozi is a sage of Chinese painting. My little girl is just a pity person like fireworks in the willow alley. How can she be worthy of being included in his paintings."
Meng Bingyun stroked her hair, put away the portrait painted by Hong Xuanji, and immediately poured a cup of tea for the other party.
"If Bingyun is willing, I will invite Qian Daozi here."
Hong Xuanji looked at Rou Yi, who was as white as mutton fat, and his heart moved slightly.
Since he began to practice, he has never been exposed to pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and he was looked down upon by the poor civil servants in the court.
But in the past year, he also began to get in touch with poetry, classics, music, chess, and painting, so he also knew Qian Daozi's level in painting.
As soon as he thought about it, he clapped his hands. The boy waiting outside the door immediately opened the door and listened, and then left the pavilion.
In order to smile for the beauty, Hong Xuanji was already a little abrupt, but he did not hesitate to drop a favor and invite the painting saint Qian Daozi.
"My little girl is here. Thank you to Brother Hong."
Meng Bingyun blinked, looking at Hong Xuanji's behavior, and suddenly flicked the guqin in front of her knees with both hands.
The next moment, the sound of green bamboo winding around the beams echoed like this.
Hong Xuanji closed his eyes and listened carefully, nodding his head from time to time, as if the sound of the piano struck him deep in his soul.
"Hahahaha! The green bamboos are floating, the flowing water is singing, what a good piano! What a good piano!"
Hong Xuanji suddenly heard a familiar voice in his ears and couldn't help but open his eyes.
What caught his eye was a middle-aged man with a long beard, about forty or fifty years old, wearing a robe casually hanging down.
This is the painting saint Qian Daozi.
He looked away and saw Meng Bingyun opposite, who had put away his piano and was sitting down, looking at him with a smile.
"I am asleep?"
At this moment, even Hong Xuanji, who was in the middle stage of martial arts cultivation, couldn't help but feel a little surprised.
He felt that he just closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the piano slightly, but he did not expect that such a long time had passed.
He looked at the passage of time in the hourglass, and he was distracted for a full three hours between opening and closing it!
"Brother, Hong is being abrupt."
Thinking of this, Hong Xuanji slightly raised his hands and confessed to Qian Daozi.
"Hahaha! It's normal for Brother Hong to be fascinated by Miss Meng's music. It's normal! I have to thank you for inviting me here, otherwise it would be difficult to see Miss Meng on weekdays."
Gan Daozi stroked his long beard and seemed to be recalling the sound of Meng Bingyun's piano.
He is regarded as the sage of painting by the world. Qin, chess, calligraphy and painting are one of the arts. By analogy, he naturally understands Meng Bingyun's music better than Hong Xuanji.
"Ms. Meng, when I listen to your piano music, although it is light and graceful, there seems to be a ray of sadness in the whole music. I don't know why I am sad?"
Qian Daozi looked at Hong Xuanji, thought for a while, and couldn't help but ask Meng Bingyun.
Others couldn't hear the music of the new oiran of Sanhualou, but he could hear the profound meaning.
There is a deep sadness in the sound of the piano, as if she is missing or even admiring someone whom she cannot ask for.
He was over fifty years old, and Qian Daozi was a good man. How could he not see that Hong Xuanji was pursuing Meng Bingyun?
So he asked tactfully and gave both parties a little face.
The person whom the new oiran of Sanhua House admires is not Hong Xuanji at all.
After looking at this famous emperor in his early twenties, I am afraid I will go home disappointed.
"The painting of the holy artistic conception is truly extraordinary."
Meng Bingyun saw that Qian Daozi was slightly disillusioned but showed no emotion at all.
She gently raised her hand, took out a handkerchief from the lining of her clothes, and spread it on the table.
On the plain white silk cloth, there seems to be an embroidery of a man walking in the mountains.
He seems to be wandering at will among thousands of mountains and rivers, crossing mountains and rivers, sometimes stopping and sometimes forgetting to return.
The power of needlework cannot retain its unique charm in the silk cloth, but it also makes Qian Daozi and even Hong Xuanji slightly moved.
"This...is this Taoist master?"
Gan Daozi looked at the man on the handkerchief with some confusion, as if he was thinking about something.
This man is very similar to Duan Zhen, the supreme Taoist master that all sentient beings in Middle-earth see every day when they dream, but the pair of horns on his head that gather all the Taoist aggregates are not embroidered.
As soon as he saw it, Qian Daozi seemed a little afraid to confirm.
"Bingyun, where did you get such a blasphemous statue of the Taoist Master?"
But Hong Xuanji frowned. Not only him, but all living beings in Middle-earth today must inherit the Tao Master's teachings. Although the man on the handkerchief is very similar to the Tao Master, he has lost the pair of curved horns.
This kind of behavior is like painting a Buddha image with complete hands and feet into incomplete parts. It is an extremely blasphemous behavior.
For hundreds of years, all sentient beings in this world can see the appearance of the Supreme Taoist Lord as long as they fall into dreams.
His appearance and body shape are unknown to everyone.
Even Hong Xuanji has a picture of the Taoist master hanging high in his own home, and he burns incense and worships it day and night.
He knew that there were many people among the people who maliciously tampered with the original appearance of the Taoist master, so he hated this practice deeply.
Didn't you expect that Bingyun is also such a person who doesn't know etiquette and the grace of preaching...
For a moment, when Hong Xuanji saw Meng Bingyun take out the incomplete statue of the Taoist master, his previous favorable impression of her actually faded a little.
"I would never dare to blaspheme the Taoist Master."
Meng Bingyun saw the performance of the two people and shook his head slightly:
"But this is the Tao Master's appearance that the little girl saw when she fell into a dream. She kept it in her mind and embroidered it on her handkerchief."
"Impossible! Everyone in the world knows the identity of the Lord! How can he lose his dignity?"
Hong Xuanji's frown deepened, and there was a trace of uncertainty and doubt in his eyes.
For so many years, everyone in the world has seen the complete appearance of the Dao Master's first-born horns. Why can't Meng Bingyun see it?
"Brother Hong, if you don't believe it, you can ask the painting sage to copy this image, and you will have some idea."
Meng Bingyun did not argue with him and remained calm. Instead, he looked at Qian Daozi, who had been silent.
The atmosphere in Hongjuan Pavilion suddenly became quiet.
"Maybe give it a try."
At this moment, Gan Daozi nodded and took out a pen and paper from his sleeves.
The paper and pen were faintly glowing with ink, and seemed to be extremely extraordinary and extraordinary.
As the saint in the painting, he uses paper and pen as a tool to express his inner thoughts.
He spread out the white paper and lifted the tip of the pen, and saw that the ink dye poured out naturally, covering the entire hair with his breath, but it seemed to be suctioned and did not drip.
This is the famous immortal-level magic weapon, the Spring and Autumn Brush.
With the stroke of the pen, one can draw the Spring and Autumn Period.
"Qian has painted hundreds of portraits of Taoist masters in his life, but he has never painted a portrait without horns. This is really disrespectful. I hope Taoist masters will forgive me."
Before Gan Daozi started writing, he bowed slightly toward the extreme north, as if looking at the Taishi Mountains that had been suspended for three hundred years at the end of the sky.
I heard that it is the mountain gate of Taishang Dao, and it is also the place where the Taoist master practices mysticism.
But for hundreds of years, neither human beings nor ghosts have been able to approach it.
That part of the sky seemed to have turned into an extremity. The world could only see the outline, but it was difficult to fly to the end.
"Brother, why bother?"
When Hong Xuanji saw this, he couldn't help but stop him.
He is a person who respects Taoism very much and has a very rigid personality. He certainly does not want Qian Daozi to draw such a blasphemous portrait of the Taoist master.
But when Qian Daozi saw Meng Bingyun's handkerchief, his thoughts started to flow.
As if without horns, this is the true form of the Taoist master.
He ignored Hong Xuanji's obstruction and went straight to writing.
Hoo ho ho!
Inside the pavilion, a slight sound of wind blew suddenly.
Under the strokes of Chunqiu's pen, the ink flowed out, printing color on the surrounding white paper.
I started to draw the dragon and snake, and sketched with fine brushwork, and gradually the figure of the Taoist master was drawn.
It has to be said that Qian Daozi's skills are countless times higher than Hong Xuanji's.
Just a simple transition directly brought out the charm of Taoist Master.
A man who crosses mountains and rivers gradually emerges on paper.
The flowing clouds in the sky, the stars and moon in the dome, and the mountains and rivers in the world have all become his foil.
It's just that he appears and stays with him.
Gradually, as the colors in the painting became more abundant, Meng Bingyun had already stood up and looked up with his bright head.
Hong Xuanji also felt something. His frown began to relax, and there was a hint of disbelief in his eyes.
The hornless Taoist form actually looks more charming!
Moreover, Qian Daozi's painting skills are enough to express the charm within it, making people feel that this is the original form of the Taoist Master!
Boom boom boom!
There seemed to be a lot of low roaring in the air, as if countless ghosts and gods were gathering and hovering here.
Gan Daozi's face became increasingly pale, and large amounts of sweat continued to ooze from his body.
The more he painted, the more he felt that his mind, thoughts, and flesh and blood were constantly being drained, as if he was truly painting a picture of the Taoist master's original appearance!
Boom, boom, boom!
An extremely violent heartbeat suddenly exploded from his chest, and even Hong Xuanji and Meng Bingyun heard it clearly.
It’s unimaginable how much energy and mental energy Qian Daozi spent at this moment!
"Watch your eyes..."
Suddenly, Hong Xuanji and Meng Bingyun couldn't help but sweat slightly, because the Taoist master painted by Qian Daozi had reached the final step!
All the mountains and rivers, all the wind and rain, all the nebulae, and even that man have been completed!
Only the eyes are left, and nothing has fallen!
This is the finishing touch, the most charming and concentrated part of a portrait.
Boom boom boom!
At this moment, heavy thunder suddenly exploded in the sky above the pavilion.
The clouds swept over instantly, and the darkness came, as if it was within reach, making people breathless.
Just a painting can actually cause such weird celestial phenomena!
"Brother Qian has painted hundreds of portraits of Taoist masters before, but none of them caused any strange phenomena in the world. Why is it like this today?"
Hong Xuanji's heart skipped a beat when he looked at the dark clouds rolling in quickly from the horizon and even the heavy thunderstorms.
An idea that subverted common sense came to his mind for no reason. Could this hornless figure be the original body of the Taoist Master?
"Wow!"
Big raindrops seemed to fall in a torrent, washing the entire Sanhua Building with water vapor.
At this moment, Hong Xuanji and Meng Bingyun no longer cared too much, they just stared at the white paper in front of Qian Daozi.
At this moment, the ink dye of Chunqiu Brush has touched Taoist Master's eyes!
Shit!
But at this moment, Qian Daozi's palm suddenly shook!
"not good!"
For a moment, the three people in the pavilion were all anxious. As soon as Qian Daozi trembled, the Chunqiu pen fell between the lightning and flints, and fell towards the white paper!
This portrait of the Taoist master that is about to take shape will be polluted by ink!
"Brother, calm down!"
After all, it was the physical body of the middle-stage Martial God. Hong Xuanji moved with a bang as soon as the Spring and Autumn Pen fell to the ground.
His figure was already very close, and within ten seconds of his breathing, he reached out steadily, closed his palms, and let the ink-stained pen tip pierce his palms.
After it was firmly connected, he quickly turned around and protected the ink, not wanting the portrait of the Taoist Master that was about to be formed to be contaminated by it.
thump!
But the next moment, he was suddenly stunned.
The painting saint Qian Daozi's feet softened and he fell straight down!
"Godbrother!"
At this moment, Hong Xuanji held the Chunqiu pen and stepped past, feeling the breath of Qian Daozi.
"The Painting Saint pretended that nothing happened, but he was exhausted and fainted."
Meng Bingyun took the first step to reveal the secret, and after sensing Qian Daozi's state, he shook his head slightly.
"As long as nothing happens..."
Seeing this, Hong Xuanji also let out a breath.
But in the next moment, a trace of extremely strong regret appeared in his eyes. When he looked at Meng Bingyun, he found that the other party was the same.
Qian Daozi was in a coma, but he could not finish the portrait of the Taoist Master.
A portrait like this that contains the principles of Tao Yun must be completed in one go.
If there is a pause in the middle, even the saint in the painting will have difficulty maintaining it.
"Pity."
Meng Bingyun shook her head again, with disappointment in her eyes.
She moved forward and looked at the Taoist master whose eyes were not adorned. It seemed as if a period of time had passed and she saw the young man who rescued her back then.
For a moment, he was silent again.
"Bingyun must not lose his mind. In today's world, no one can draw the Taoist Master."
Hong Xuanji felt a pity for the beautiful lady as she fell into melancholy.
Until now, he still didn't know that the hornless form was the original Taoist master. Thinking of wrongly blaming the other party just now, he suddenly felt a sense of self-blame in his heart.
He stepped forward slightly, wanting to take the opportunity to help, but the next moment he was dodged by Meng Bingyun:
"Mr. Hong, you should call me Miss Meng."
Her steps were extremely agile, and she didn't even have a grasp of Hong Xuanji's energy.
"this…"
When Hong Xuanji saw this, he was stunned for a moment.
"Hongluan, see you off."
Meng Bingyun spoke slightly, and then he saw a little girl dressed as a maid walking pretty from behind the door and saluted Hong Xuanji.
For a moment, Hong Xuanji was extremely surprised and puzzled by Meng Bingyun's change of expression. But thinking about Qian Daozi's coma and the cold look on the beauty's face, he had to swallow what he wanted to say.
A woman's heart is really like a needle on the seabed. Even though he, Hong Xuanji, has become a powerful minister at such a young age, it is hard to understand.
"In this case, Hong will leave today."
In the end, Hong Xuanji clasped his fists slightly, carried Gan Daozi with one hand, and left the pavilion.
He can pick it up and put it down, and he will come back another day.
The dark clouds and thunder in the sky dispersed silently.
Only a little water vapor, newly clear after the rain, filled the interior.
Meng Bingyun stroked her hair, stood up and stood in front of the white paper, and suddenly stretched out her hand to touch it.
She brushed her hand softly and pressed it on the man whose eyes were still in the painting. It seemed as if she was sighing through the painting:
"No one in this world can draw you."
...
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