"My son, although the dragon energy was added to you when you entered the ink, its function is only to cleanse your marrow and cut your veins. Even if it can improve your talent to a certain extent, it cannot replace your talent. he.
You must understand that literature is not simply the practice of the six arts, but also the understanding and mastery of the world. "The words are sincere and sincere in Bai language."
"Especially for those of us who use poems and lyrics to enter Chinese ink, the road is more difficult to walk than other paths, because from ancient times to the present, except for Qu Sheng, there has not been another person who has truly reached the level of transcendence and sainthood in the poetry and lyrics path. "
"The reason why this road is difficult to walk is because you cannot learn from the previous paths. You need to explore, research, try, and innovate yourself."
"You must read a lot of books, use the world as your teacher, history as a mirror, human feelings as coal, and pen and ink as your sword, bit by bit, step by step, to construct your own world of poetry."
Ci Qibai's words made Ci Song put away his contempt. He scratched his head and said, "Father, I understand what you mean. I will practice hard."
Seeing Ci Song's appearance, Ci Qi Bai sighed slightly, patted his shoulder lightly, and said, "My son, you don't have to be discouraged. Even if you lose this marriage in the future, your father will be disappointed." I will find a good family for you, including royal relatives, princes and dignitaries. There are many people who want to curry favor with our poets."
"I understand, Father."
Ci Song bowed slightly, said goodbye to Ci Qi Bai in front of him, and returned to his room.
After Ci Song left, Ci Qi Bai slowly said to Gongsun Cuo: "Uncle Cuo, that person from Kong Sheng Academy has reached at least the semi-saint level now, right?"
"Perhaps, if you had not left back then, you should have taken the seat at the head of the school, and how would it have been his turn?" Gongsun Cuo sighed.
"Uncle Cuo, I am not a person who can leave everything behind. Otherwise, when Daliang was in danger, I would not have stood up. Instead, I would have sat on the clouds, overlooking all living beings." Ci Qibai sighed slightly, his eyes Full of nostalgia.
"Uncle Cuo, I am already old. A new generation has replaced the old one. Maybe my era is coming to an end."
. . . . . . .
In the Song Dynasty, he sharpened his ink and began to write his favorite poem in his previous life, Li Bai's "I will enter the wine without you seeing you". He mobilized his talent, condensed it on the tip of the pen, and began to write, but when he had just finished writing "Jun" When he read these three words, he felt dizzy and all his talents were consumed in an instant. His hand holding the pen began to tremble, and he sat down directly on the ground, breathing heavily.
What's happening here? Why did I collapse after writing just one sentence?
"Is it because my own talent cannot support me to finish writing this poem, so this situation arises?"
Ci Song's brain was spinning rapidly. If it was really what he thought, then even if he had countless masterpieces in his mind, it would be of no avail. What's the difference between this and a pauper who is guarding a mountain of gold and silver without spending any money?
But soon, Ci Song had another idea. He had seen in the books he read before that the most special thing about the poets who combined poetry with ink was that they could recite their own poems to achieve their purpose.
For example, reciting a war poem will enhance one's own combat power. For another example, reciting a poem about strengthening the army will enhance the morale of our army, etc.
"I wonder if my poem can be completed under such circumstances?" Thinking this, Ci Song immediately set his sights on reciting.
"If you don't see it, the water of the Yellow River will come up from the sky and rush to the sea never to return."
"Don't you see, the bright mirror in the high hall has sad white hair, and it looks like blue silk in the morning and turns to snow in the evening."
Ci Song murmured, and as his voice resounded throughout the room, Ci Song's whole body began to glow with a faint golden light, and the surrounding papers began to swing, as if being pulled by him, waves of golden light began to flow. The mist overflowed from the paper and wrapped him in it, making him look very solemn.
"If you are happy in life, you must have all the joy, and don't let the golden cup stand empty against the moon."
"I am born with talents that will be useful, and I will come back after all the money I have spent."
The originally exhausted talents in Ci Song's body were restored as Ci Song chanted. Although he had seemingly extremely huge talents in his body, what Ci Song could call upon was only a tiny fraction.
The wisdom is as bright as a hair, the talent of a child is like silk, and the talent of a scholar is as sharp as a needle.
Therefore, in the state of enlightenment, it is impossible to use up all the talents in one's body, unless that person's sea of consciousness is destroyed, causing the talents to be exposed.
At this time, Ci Song only wrote the first three characters of "Jian Jin Jiu" and exhausted them, which is enough to show that he is still far away from being able to write this masterpiece.
In this way, Ci Song kept reciting the poem "Always Entering the Wine". Half an hour later, the talent in Ci Song's body was completely restored, and he found that the talent he could mobilize was a little more than before, and in poetry Under its operation, it can produce some wonderful effects, making his talents more refined.
"It seems that it is not possible to become stronger by writing Tang poems, but it is not bad to become stronger by memorizing poems." Ci Song murmured in his heart.
In this half hour, Ci Song only recited "Jian Jin Jiu" twice, not because he didn't want to continue to recite it, but because his energy was no longer enough to support him to recite it a third time. Whenever he recited a line of poetry, , his spirit and body will be washed away by the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
Although this sounds like a good thing, every time it is washed, for Ci Song, it is also equivalent to being tortured. He does not dare to recite it a third time because he is afraid that he will pass out due to too much exhaustion.
"It seems that I really need to go to the academy and study hard. Although memorizing poems can bring me improvement, these alone are not enough."
Ci Song made up his mind to enter Yan Sheng Academy and study hard. He dragged his tired body and lay down on his bed to rest.
After a long time, he stood up slowly. He packed up the Four Treasures of the Study on the table and waited for tomorrow. He couldn't wait to know what was inside the academy founded by the legendary disciple of Confucius, Yan Hui. scene.
"Would those literati be frightened when they saw me, a 'dandy'?"
Ci Song could not wait to go to the academy at this moment, but before him, someone from the General's Mansion had already gone to Yan Sheng Academy. That person was the old slave of the General's Mansion, Gongsun Cuo.
As for what he was here to do, he was naturally here to "open up" relationships and wanted to allow Ci Song to enter the school without taking the exam. . . .
