——The soul of the mountain and the soul of the water talk about Mount Lu
In late August, my wife and son and I went to Lushan to stay for a few days. Living in the city for a long time, struggling to make a living, running around every day, tired of the worldly world. I am a native of the mountains, but when I moved to the city, I followed the principle of "the water in the mountain spring is clear, and the spring water out of the mountain is turbid". The temperament of Ranshan people is fermenting in their hearts all the time. Occasionally, when I have some free time, I would like to enjoy some landscape entertainment. Don't look at the wind and moon in the forest and spring to make the poetic heart haggard. On this trip to Lushan Mountain, you can break away from the scorching heat and come to the cool world, surrounded by floating mountains and cold green, and enjoy the breeze of ancient trees. Touching the spring and playing with rocks, stepping on the moon and dining on the clouds, I wandered leisurely like a black ape and a white crane. I don’t even remember what night it is today.
Climbing Wulaofeng
When we climbed Wulao Peak, God was not in his favor.
At eight o'clock in the morning, when the car arrived at the gate of Wulaofeng, the drizzle had already begun to fall. Some tourists were wandering on the stone steps in front of the mountain gate, hesitating whether to go up the mountain or not, for fear of getting soaked in the water. Moreover, the entire Wulao Peak had been engulfed by dark clouds, and there was no point in going up the mountain, so many people turned around and returned. I am not willing to accept it. I came here not for the chirping mountain birds and the red and pink mountain flowers. I just want to use my rugged feet to come here to measure the ancient rocks; I want to use my hands that are full of wind and frost but have never held the Pearl of the Spirit Snake to touch the dust on Wulao Peak. Thousands of pine trees. At this time, the wind and clouds were surging, and the rain was pouring down the mountain road. Just perfect for me. My wife didn't come because she had some work, so I asked my eight-year-old son who was traveling with me if he could go up the mountain. He nodded bravely. So we held hands, laughed and pushed through the clouds, and entered the somewhat deserted mountain gate.
When I was a child, I was familiar with Li Bai's quatrain "Wanglu Mountain Waterfall"
At Wulaofeng in the southeast of Lushan Mountain, golden hibiscus is cut out of the blue sky.
The beautiful scenery of Jiujiang can be taken in, and I will nest the cloud pine trees here.
The mountains are cut out of hibiscus, what a magnificent imagination! Wearing Ge Yimang shoes here, howling proudly during the day and nesting in the clouds and pines at night, what a romantic act! Prosperous cities and spiritual temples can be turned into ruins because of human ignorance. In the struggle for interests, people can turn into economic animals, and the fertile soil for the growth of poetry can also become a cultural desert. Only Qingshan will never change its original intention of being independent from the world. Whether they are poets or philosophers, feathered men or Zen masters, they all hope to build their spiritual nest on the misty mountain peaks. Li Bai was like this a thousand years ago, and I will be like this a thousand years later. Climbing Wulao Peak is my lifelong dream.
The stone steps go up, winding and winding; the cold rain falls on the mountains, lingering like a beauty from the south of the Yangtze River. At this time, it is still August at the bottom of the mountain, but on this mountain where people's clothes are all wet, the tree I am holding with my left hand is tied with the early spring that is just waking up from the snow dream; the branch I am holding with my right hand is lightly covered with The late autumn set off by frost. Although I couldn't find a single branch of red aegis, the falling leaves like bluebirds were the business card given to me by Wulaofeng. It is said that the kettle-carrying bird was born from the alcoholic Tao Yuanming. Although it did not come with wings, the grass on the roadside bowed like a bow. After all, when the mountain wind came, it danced a magical disco for me. Let my heart follow it, follow the entire Wulaofeng, spinning in the clouds and mist.
There are about a thousand stone steps from the mountain gate to the first peak of Wulao Peak. Someone told me that the stone steps here, as well as those at Sandiequan and other places, were only paved in recent years. In the past, climbers walked on narrow paths. The stone steps were a blessing to later tourists. For me, it is still a kind of code. Step by step, it leads me to a realm that I have wanted to decipher throughout the ages. Climb up the stairs and, at its top, seek the soul-nourishing egg whites.
In about twenty minutes, we climbed to the first peak of Wulao Peak. There is a pavilion at the top of the peak, go in and take a rest. My clothes were wet, there was sweat and rain. My son didn't seem tired, he climbed all the way and pulled out a lot of weeds. Holding a bunch of them, they were running in the wind and rain outside the pavilion. I wanted to call him to stop and come into the pavilion to take a breath. He waved the weeds and shouted: I want to sweep away the clouds.
This little guy is actually playing the role of the mythical cloud-sweeping boy.
However, the rain and fog still came, like hungry wolves in the northern wilderness. I felt the rocks beneath my feet shaking. Every second, they are divided and recombined in this great collision. The weak ones are broken into powder, and the strong ones are even more abrupt. At this time, I seemed to see Li Bai coming out of the sky, saying to me in a voice as cold as the peak of his sword: "Xiong Zhaozheng, if you are a real Chu madman, you should get out of this pavilion that is uglier than Wu Sha Mao, and The Five Old Peaks sing together in the wind and rain."
Suddenly, my blood surged, and I jumped into the raging wind and rain with a tiger's step. Wulaofeng, give me a bronze sword, preferably the one that Qu Yuan danced with, or give me a pen made from the hair of a thousand-year-old wolf in the mountains. Today, I can only use this pen. Only then can the iron paintings and silver hooks be left behind in the wind and rain of the ten thousand cang cliffs.
However, my left hand is empty, without a sword; my right hand is empty, without a pen. Maybe it's better this way. Wulaofeng welcomes empty-handed tourists.
My son and I walked along the ridge of Wulaofeng. One is a troubled scholar who has experienced hardships, and the other is a child who is not familiar with the world. These two generations are walking on the same rugged road. In the landscape with an altitude of more than 1,400 meters, we became two walking pine trees.
After a while, we walked to the second peak. The boulder under the peak is chiselled with the words "Wulaofeng". The word has an ancient meaning but does not have a sense of steepness, which is inconsistent with the temperament of this peak. There is a cave under the boulder. It is a good place to take shelter from the rain, but it hates being surrounded by some. The wicked ghosts use it as a toilet, which is extremely filthy and smelly. We passed by with our noses covered, and walked through the three peaks, the fourth peak, and the fifth peak in one breath. The thicker the clouds and mist became, the more I strengthened my imagination to look forward. At Sanfeng, we saw an old pine hanging on a thousand-foot cliff, with thorny branches and needles. I think this is probably the yun pine tree where Li Bai wants to build his nest.
While resting on the top of the four peaks, for a moment, the clouds and mist suddenly dispersed, and the two or three tourists standing here were all surprised. The most wonderful, amazing light swirled before my eyes. The boulders that make me feel relaxed and hit my chest rise like ocher-colored building blocks; the forest pines that boost my ambition and pierce my dirty eyes stand out like spears; what refreshes me is the most splashing water from the singing spring. Pure white; what nourishes my majestic spirit is the tough and crisp blue that snakes on the ridge. Wulaofeng has become a multi-colored prism, and every color projected through it turns into the light of heaven. If I could collect them and make a rainbow, one end would be placed on the Wulao Peak, and the other end would be placed on the pier of every new century, so that it would forever become the dawn of the world.
It feels comfortable to look at the eyes. Jiujiang City is vividly visible, and the boundless Poyang Lake is filled with a misty atmosphere. The sun was shining across there, with bits of milky white. It was hard to tell whether it was a flying crane or a fishing sail. A gust of wind came in front of me, was it a flower-sounding wind or a fishing-sounding wind? When you blow on Wulao Peak, you will be filled with vitality. According to "Lushan Chronicle", the Nanshan Mountain in Tao Yuanming's poem "picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, leisurely seeing the Nanshan Mountain" is the Wulaofeng. Others looked up to the mountains with admiration, but he just took a leisurely look at them, how indifferent he was! Compared with Li Bai, his life was more Lao Zhuang. I imagined that if I were standing at Mr. Wuliu's former residence of Chaisang and looking eastward at Wulaofeng, would I see the five old Zen masters sitting in the wind and rain?
All five peaks have been passed. The virtues of the forest and springs, the aspirations of the haze, and the wind of the caves that live forever on the rocks refuse to be taken away by me. They only want to be lonely and carefree on the mountain, chewing and swallowing the sun and moon without being swallowed by the sun and moon.
It was time to go down the mountain, and I suddenly felt a sense of loss. This is because my heart hangs on the pine tree where Li Bai nestled, and my soul still wanders in the chrysanthemum season sent by Tao Yuanming.
There are thousands of stone steps going down the mountain. It's much harder than going up the mountain. Less than halfway, my son could no longer walk. He asked me why going down the mountain is more tiring than going up the mountain? I had several answers, but I didn't say anything. I just pointed to the Qinglian Valley at the bottom of the mountain and told him that there are also beautiful scenery in those low-lying places.
Visit Sandiequan
There are two routes to visit Sandiequan: one is to get off the road from Jiujiang to Xiufeng and climb up along the secluded valley and poor cave. The first is to go down the stairs along the Qinglian Valley on the back of Wulao Peak.
We took the latter route.
Starting from the parking lot at the foot of the fifth peak of Wulao Peak, walk about a mile to the mouth of the stream, cross the small stone bridge, and enter the Qinglian Valley. It is a beautiful Qinglian Valley, with trees covering it and the flowers intoxicated, water and rocks stimulating each other and springs flowing more gracefully. The valley is named after Li Bai's nickname Qinglian. Now, our family of three is walking through it, stepping on the tall and short rocks in the stream, and the dense and light lushness of the woods above our heads. Both his wife and son showed rare joy. My wife visited once ten years ago, when she was a carefree college student. She felt that the Green Lotus Valley at that time was not as beautiful as it is now.
After walking for about three miles in a roundabout way, we reached a mountain pass above Qinglian Valley. From there, we descended almost vertical stone steps of more than 3,000 steps to Sandie Spring.
Walking on the stone steps, I felt anxious and wary. The stone steps are only three feet narrow, and many sections are suspended on both sides. If you accidentally fall down, you will be shattered to pieces. The son does not know how powerful he is, but he still looks like a magpie jumping on the branches along the way. After finally walking down the four-mile stone staircase and turning around a screen of steep green stones, I suddenly felt a rush of refreshing energy. Looking up, I saw a bolt of lightning shooting down from the sky, splitting a green mountain in one swift motion. In half.
"That's Sandiequan." My wife said.
We ran down the last hundred or so steps, stood on a rocky hill, and stared at the Sandie Spring.
The first stack of springs is half hidden in the blue sky and half hanging in the white clouds. The novice monks would think it is a strong sail of Brahma's boat, and the seven-foot-old man would think it is a resounding arrow that breaks through the haze of history.
The second spring, hanging over the mountains and cutting ravines, leaping over the stone beams and flying into the sea, looks directly like it is not a continuation of the first spring, but a stream of incandescent magma pouring out from the underground cave. pressing.
The third stack of springs is divided into two on the cliff, the left is tall and tall, and the right is thin, what a pair of male and female swords! Absorbing the essence of the sun and moon, the dancing rainbow does not fall; it strengthens the dangers of heaven and earth, and cuts stones with sound.
Perhaps, this pair of generals, Mo Xiewu, was tired, and a short nap lasted for a thousand years. The two swords are inserted into the ground, and the cold light spreads, forming a Yaochi and a Longtan. Standing on the rocky Jitou, I felt so many photons and electrons flashing out from the sword peak, condensing into thunder, falling into rain, and impacting the ashes of time into dazzling pearls.
There are many waterfalls in Mount Lu, and poets of all ages have also written many poems praising the waterfalls in Mount Lu. The most famous one is Li Bai's "Looking at the Waterfalls in Mount Lu". Unfortunately, this eternal masterpiece is about the Huangyan Falls located in Xiufeng instead of the one in front of you. Sandiequan. I also made a special trip to watch Huangyan Falls. The result was a huge disappointment. The flying water flowing from Shuangjian Peak is as thin as a thin line. It doesn't have the spirit of "flying down three thousand feet, it seems that the Milky Way has fallen into the sky". The Mawei Waterfall next to it, which Li Bai also saw, was almost dry. I sighed in my heart: Such a waterfall is such a waste of a good poem by Li Bai.
The best Lushan waterfall is the Sandie Spring.
It is said that it was not until 1691 AD that Sandie Spring was accidentally discovered by a woodcutter. At this time, Li Bai had been dead for hundreds of years, so he had no chance to meet him. From then on, all tourists who came to Lushan wanted to see it. Even the famous Neo-Confucian scholar Zhu Xi, after hearing about Sandiequan, was too old and sick to come to see it, so he asked a painter to paint a painting of Sandiequan. The charming figure hangs in the study, wandering around day and night.
Since childhood, I have always loved clear mountain springs. It is quiet, but not in a hazy manner; it flows, but not in a surly manner. No matter winter, summer, spring or autumn, it is full of gentleness and leisurely escape. Many poets regard it as a mysterious image, but I regard it as the blood flowing in my veins.
The Sandiequan in front of me and the blood in my heart are surging at this moment. The Sandiequan is never disturbed. It flows into its own character, coming from life and going to life. Why does my blood sometimes come from innocence but flow to filth? Sometimes it comes from anger. But flow into loneliness? Who intervened and disrupted its flow?
This is a question that is heavier than Wulaofeng. Among the tourists, no one can answer me.
Suddenly someone called me, it was my wife. It turned out that when I was daydreaming, she and her son had already walked down Longtan. I jumped down like a monkey and was showered by the deafening sound of the waterfall. The son stripped down to his shorts and played in the water. The waterfall fell onto the rocks and turned into crystal pearls. Even when I was soaked, I jumped into the Longtan, poured the clear spring water, washed my eyes, washed my ears, washed, washed, I just wished I could pull out all my internal organs and wash away all the sticky residue. The filth and sorrow upon it.
My son and I got carried away playing in the water, and my wife called us to go ashore. She pointed to the returning tourists on the ladder and said it was time to return. I smiled and said to her: "Let us play for a while. No, it is not playing, I am being baptized."
"Baptism? What baptism?"
"The baptism of the soul. After my eyes have been washed, I will no longer accept filth. After my ears have been washed, I will no longer listen to the words of a Fu."
"You think so well, who would flatter you?"
I am speechless in replying to my wife's robbery. Yes, in this age when elegance is in decline, who can still look down on me, a poet who considers himself noble? At this time, the question that remained in Jitou came back to my mind. I secretly vowed that from now on, the water of my life must be like this Sandie Spring, always maintaining surging passion and only flowing on its own river.
Before landing, I took a few more sips.
"I'm going to get sick," my wife said.
"No, this is holy water."
With a feeling of relief after the baptism, we set out on our return journey.
The true face of Lushan Mountain
Viewed horizontally, it looks like a ridge and a peak on the side, with different heights near and far.
I don’t know the true face of Mount Lu, just because I am in this mountain.
People who have been to Lushan Mountain all think that Su Dongpo's poem about Lushan Mountain is well written and expresses the characteristics of Lushan Mountain. The beauty of this poem is that although it is about mountains, it can trigger people's metaphysical associations. What is the true face of Lushan Mountain? I don’t know what kind of image of Lushan Mountain Mr. Dongpo had in mind when he wrote this poem. This image is both geographical and humanistic; it is both concrete and abstract.
After getting off Mount Lu, I stood on the deck of the ship returning home. I looked at the looming Mount Lu in the haze at dusk and couldn't help but think about it. Since the great calligrapher Wang Xizhi built the first villa by the Jade Curtain Spring in Lushan Mountain in 340 AD, in more than 1,600 years, how many political, cultural and religious celebrities have come to this mountain to perform their own performances A piece of history. The heroes among so many people are all knowledgeable and courageous people, but not all of them are necessarily wise. Wisdom and knowledge are far from the same thing. A benevolent person enjoys mountains, and a wise person enjoys water. The joy of benevolence and wisdom lies not in the human world but in the mountains and rivers. What an indifferent mind! Tao Yuanming, who met Nanshan leisurely, can be described as a wise poet.
Poets of all ages took him as a model, and they all had epiphanies when they came here. Here are some excerpts from poetry:
And I enjoy the famous mountains, and my heart is free for them.
No matter how you cough up the liquid, you have to wash away the dust.
And if you live in a harmonious place, you will die in this world forever.
Li Bai's "Looking at Lushan Waterfall"
Taoism is deep and lonely, and the world is full of right and wrong.
If you go looking for famous mountains, how can you look at the clear splendor?
Wang Changling's "Send Off Master Dong Linlian Returns to Mount Lu"
Weary birds find lush trees, and dry fish return to their clear source.
Where can I go without this desire? The world is so dangerous and difficult!
Bai Juyi's "A new thatched cottage was built at the foot of Xianglu Peak.
Immediately chant the incident and write it on the stone"
Who comes to lie down on a pillow of strawberry moss and stone, and wash away the dusty heart with thousands of dendrobium mud?
Su Dongpo's "Kaixian Waterfall in Mount Lu"
His achievements will be recorded on Yanshi, and he will eventually go on a tour of Chisong after he retires.
Yue Fei's "Residence in Shandong, Lin Hui, and the People from the Sea"
The hut is leaning against the green and steep hills, and the wine glass is raised and the water is flowing.
The wind roars loudly, and chaos returns.
Tao Yuanming's "Returning Words"
The moon is deep in the sky, the mountain path is white, and the tiger stream is murmuring, as if hearing the mountain ghost's sermons are empty.
Kang Youwei's "The Ballad of Mount Lu"
The poet has two attitudes when returning to nature: he deeply feels that the famous mountains and rivers will last forever but he is about to fall into silence; he deeply feels that the world is dangerous but the mountains and rivers are so peaceful. Therefore, it is very natural to have thoughts of the earthly place and want to live in seclusion.
Tao Yuanming, who lived at the foot of Mount Lushan, was a recluse among Chinese poets. The true face of Lushan Mountain in his heart is probably the natural beauty of "the mountain air is getting better day by day and the birds are flying back and forth".
During my few days in Lushan Mountain, the steepness of Wulao Peak, the elegance of Sandie Spring, the beauty of Jinxiu Valley, and the cloud waterfall of Longshou Cliff all gave me the most authentic and beautiful enjoyment. But in other places, in front of Zhu Yuanzhang's Zhubei Pavilion, in Chiang Kai-shek's beautiful villa, in Hanpokou where Mao Zedong was photographed, and the former site of the "Lushan Conference" in 1959, I felt heavy. sense of historical oppression. The beautiful scenery of Lushan Mountain actually contains the light and blood of cruel battles. Among the series of true faces of Mount Lu, who do I identify with?
When I came to Lushan, I felt that my complete self had begun to split...
Among so many true faces of Lushan, I only recognized two people, one was Tao Yuanming and the other was Li Bai. Tao Yuanming, who was indifferent to fame and fortune, was the soul of Mount Lushan. Li Bai, who was unwilling to bend down to serve the powerful, was the soul of Mount Lushan.
Although I come and go from Mount Lushan in a hurry, the soul of the mountains and waters always linger in my heart!
