Xie Fu appeared at the door of the study, but Tantai Heqing was working in the study early today. She buried her head, as cold as Xie Fu when they first met, but there was something indescribably different about her.
Xie Fu spoke first: "Miss, the porridge is here."
"Oh, put it down." Tantai Heqing responded lightly, but did not look up at him.
Xie Fu put the porridge and water down on the big case and wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say.
It was Tantai Heqing who spoke first: "My cough is gone, and you don't have to bring me porridge anymore."
In fact, this month's period has passed earlier, but Tantai Heqing was brought up at this time.
Xie Fu asked in surprise: "Are you ready?"
"Okay, I'm tired of this porridge too."
Xie Fu said: "Actually, it doesn't matter whether the cough is better or not. I can continue to make porridge for the young lady. Maybe the young lady wants to eat something else."
"It's not like there's no cook in the house. I'll tell you what I want to eat. Just focus on Wen Wang."
It was only then that Tantai Heqing raised his head and looked at Xie Fu.
His haggard face, expressionless and calm, was even more cold and cold than before.
Seeing this haggard figure, Xie Fu blurted out and asked, "What's wrong with you?" His tone was like the familiar concern among relatives and friends.
Tantai Heqing's hand holding the pen shook slightly, and he said lightly: "You can go." He lowered his head and continued working.
"Miss, I'll take my leave now."
"Um."
Xie Fu walked out of the door, but stopped in the corridor.
Tantai Heqing was listening to his leaving footsteps, so she knew that Xie Fu had stopped.
After about a few breaths, footsteps sounded again, and the pen in Tantai Heqing's hand suddenly fell on the inkstone, splattering ink on her white sleeves.
After Xie Fu's footsteps were far away and completely inaudible, Tantai Heqing looked towards the empty door, then lowered his head and continued working, and the sound of coughing also sounded.
In the evening, Xie Fu was practicing Qigong with his legs crossed, returning to the light to keep in the center, absorbing Qi and moistening the pulse.
Since the last time he returned to the light, he has slowly explored some aspects of martial arts, but has made little progress.
The master once told him that based on his qualifications, it would take fifty years to practice the entry-level exercises for the lower level, twenty or thirty years for the intermediate level, and ten years of hard training for the upper level.
And the road after entering the product is even more difficult.
Martial arts is the way of natural selection. Xie Fu's qualifications are too poor.
What he is doing now is that he knows he cannot do something but is forced to do it.
Zhu Ming came into the house and disturbed Xie Fu, so Xie Fu stopped practicing.
Although the relationship with Zhu Ming was not as close as with Hu Diquan, and they did not communicate much. After all, they lived in the same courtyard, Xie Fu was still very enthusiastic and asked Zhu Ming to sit down.
Zhu Ming asked: "Thank you, what were you doing just now?"
"Zazen." Xie Fu said perfunctorily with a smile.
After chatting for a while, Zhu Ming said: "Actually, I admire you scholars the most."
Xie Fu laughed and said, "I'm not a scholar, I just understand a few words." Xie Fu didn't want to get too far away from Zhu Ming and tried to reduce his advantage in this aspect.
Zhu Ming was a little embarrassed and said, "I wish I could be like you."
When Xie Fu heard this, he was a little surprised and said with a smile: "If you are willing, we can study together."
Sometimes Fu Xie wanted to teach Hu Diquan a few words, but Hu Diquan was not interested at all. Unexpectedly, Zhu Ming became interested.
Zhu Ming said happily: "Thank you, Fu, it's settled. If I don't understand anything, you have to teach me."
Xie Fu responded readily: "Of course, I will tell you everything I know."
Zhu Ming added: "I just don't want to be looked down upon by myself because I can't read Chinese characters and can't even write my own name."
Xie Fu said enthusiastically: "I can teach you how to write your name now. Come, sit here."
Zhu Ming hurriedly declined: "Don't worry, I have a poem here, please help me take a look."
poetry? If you can’t even write your own name, how can you get the poem?
Perhaps seeing Fu Xie's doubts, Zhu Ming smiled and explained: "I picked it up."
At the same time, he took out the rolled and wrinkled paper from his body, spread it on the desk, stretched out his hand to slowly smooth the wrinkles on it, and asked: "What is this poem about?"
Xie Fu read it out: "Blush blush complains that the wind is not coming, reflecting the lotus flowers standing in the green bushes. I even want him to face the mountains and rivers together, how to borrow his wings to find the east wind."
Zhu Ming asked again: "Can you see anything?"
Xie Fu glanced at Zhu Ming thoughtfully, and Zhu Ming responded with a guilty conscience: "I want to learn, aren't you willing to teach me?"
Xie Fu said with a smile: "This is a poem with seven unique features. The first two sentences describe the scene of summer. The cool breeze in midsummer does not come, and the green leaves of lotus flowers are very obvious. The last two sentences, haha..."
Zhu Ming nodded, seeming to understand. After a while, he asked aloud: "If you were asked to give this poem a title, what would you think would be good?"
Xie Fu smiled, and his smile was profound. Seeing this, Zhu Ming asked curiously: "What? Can't you come up with the question?"
It’s not that Xie Fu couldn’t name it. He didn’t write this Qijue poem. Since he wanted to name it, it’s best to understand the mind of the person who wrote the poem. He smiled and said, “If you want me to name it, I’ll name it “Sichun” .”
Upon hearing this, Zhu Ming immediately blurted out: "Sichun? Thank you, Fu, don't talk nonsense."
Xie Fu explained: "Don't get me wrong. My yearning for spring is not that yearning for spring. It means missing spring. This poem is written in such a haunting way that it must have been written by a woman."
In fact, from the beautiful handwriting, it is obvious that it was written by a woman.
Zhu Ming nodded, but did not reveal it. This was his secret, and he did not want others to know. He asked: "Why do you miss spring? You just said clearly that the first two sentences were about summer."
How should I explain these poetic things to Zhu Ming? Xie Fu still said: "Look at her blushing and complaining about the upper hand, which means that she is in a depressed mood and not very happy."
Zhu Ming nodded and asked, "What next?"
Xie Fu said: "The last two sentences are about mountains and rivers, and looking for the east wind. She should be looking forward to the vitality of spring and the recovery of all things. I think she is venting her dissatisfaction with the current situation and the reappearance of life after a long wait. expectations.”
Zhu Ming nodded, feeling that what Xie Fu said made sense, and so many things could be seen in this song.
Xie Fu smiled and said: "I think the person who wrote this poem is either a purdah lady or a brothel girl."
Zhu Ming was secretly shocked when he heard this. He felt that Xie Fu was such a good scholar, and he believed in his explanation just now. He quickly said: "Xie Fu, please quickly put the word "Sichun" on the title.
"good."
Xie Fu readily agreed, just in time to let Zhu Ming appreciate the beauty of literary words and get him interested in learning.
After grinding, he wrote the word "Sichun" with a big stroke of the pen. The word "Sichun" was written with strong force and overpowering "Juanxiu".
