Mountain Village Xiao Shennong

Chapter 219 Copying the Poetry of the Immortals

He Chang is looking at the bluestone path paved by himself, which has a clean taste and feels very satisfied.

After being dazed for a while, he squatted down, took out his mobile phone, and began to chat with Lu Ban privately.

"Luban, are you there?"

"Yes, what's the matter with He Daxian?"

"I want to ask, about the next level, how does Lianji practice?"

"Practicing oneself is about the practice of essence, qi and god, and it is about refining essence to transform qi, and refining qi to transform god!"

"It's too profound, I can't understand it!"

"Generally speaking, what is important is a state of achieving the extreme of emptiness and keeping quiet. If you can achieve this state and gain some insight, you will be able to refine Qi to transform Qi, and refine Qi to transform God!"

"I still don't understand!"

"Daxian, with your comprehension, you shouldn't!"

"Speak more bluntly, simply and rudely!"

"Well, it is to achieve a state of ecstasy, forgetting everything around you, forgetting trivial matters, forgetting the whole world, and forgetting yourself!"

"Okay, I understand a little bit, so how should I practice!"

"He Daxian go to Shuxian Sun Yuheng, he is a Taoist priest with a clear mind, he should be able to help you!"

"Okay, thanks!"

He Changzai sent Lu Ban a package of [-] yuan, expressed his gratitude a little, and then started a private chat with Shuxian Sun Yuheng.

"Sun Yuheng, I want to enter the realm of self-cultivation. Is there any good way?"

On the other side, Sun Yuheng looked stunned, expressing that he never thought that He Changzai was just a practitioner who had attained the Acupoint Realm.

The next moment, he thought of an explanation, reincarnated and rebuilt, and his heart trembled.

After being dazed for a while, he sent a few gifts.

"This is Guo Pu's 23 poems about wandering immortals, and a set of pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and musical puppets from Daoist songs. As long as He Daxian copies these 23 poems about wandering immortals, he can practice himself!"

"Thank you, little red envelope, it's not a respect!"

After He Chang clicked to confirm, a solid book of immortal poems, pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and a fairy-looking puppet in a Taoist robe appeared in his hand.

There were a lot of papers this time, tens of thousands of them, unlike last time when they grabbed red envelopes, they only got a poor one.

Naturally, he didn't want to ask for so many things in vain, so he sent a thousand red envelopes to Sun Yuheng to express his intentions.

He Chang was looking at this exquisitely crafted music puppet, thinking that this thing was definitely made by Lu Ban.

After looking at the puppet, he took these things to the bottom of the mountain spring and gathered them into a small pool with crystal clear bottom.

Put the things aside, spread a piece of rice paper on a large bluestone, pour the ink into the inkstone, grind it with an ink stick, and open one of the poems of wandering immortals.

Hold your breath, hold your breath, pick up your pen and ink, and start copying.

The fonts on the book are not simplified Chinese characters, but cursive script.

This kind of calligraphy combines the strengths of regular script and cursive script. It is neat and clear, but also free and lively.

But the disadvantage is that people who are not in a free and easy mood can't imitate the charm.

Although calligraphy and painting have many similarities, He Changzai also knows Danqing, but it is not easy for him to copy this poem of wandering immortals.

I feel that it is not satisfactory, and it is not as full of verve as written by others.

Therefore, the brush was placed on the inkstone.

Take the musical puppet, turn on the button behind it, and listen to Taoist songs.

"There are so many turmoil in the world of mortals, I advise Junshan to be safe, the world is a fantasy and a dream, and finally smile alone..."

I have to say that the sound quality of this music puppet is nothing to say, it is enough to abuse some music phones, a bit like a real person singing in your ear.

He Chang is listening to this Taoist song, feeling a little brainwashed, he has not yet reached such a profound state.

So, turn the button and switch to a song.

"When you grow your hair up to your waist, it would be good to tie your hair up to enter the Tao, and tie your hair high into a bun. If you don't let the world of mortals disturb you, just go with the clouds in the cave, but it's good to have a moon..."

"This song is not bad, keep copying, freezing three feet is not a day's cold, I shouldn't panic!"

Accompanied by the singing, He Chang was silent, and started copying Youxian's poems again. He planned to copy one piece today, and copy the rest slowly later.

Jinghua Ranger's Cave, a hermit habitat in the mountains and forests.How rich a rich family is, if it is not entrusted to Penglai.

In Linyuan, there is Qingbo, and in Linggang, Danwen.Lingxi can dive into the disk, and Anshi can climb the ladder.

There are proud officials in Qiyuan, and Lai's has a wife.If you advance, you will see the dragon, and if you retreat, you will touch the feudal lord.

Out of the wind and dust, bow to Xie Yiqi.

Unknowingly, the sky has turned into dusk.

And there were more than 100 pieces of Youxian poems on the ground, and there were faint ink marks on the clear water in the inkstone washing pool in front of him.

At this time, Si Xia, who was taking pictures of the scenery, accidentally saw He Chang writing by the pool, and couldn't help walking over with the camera on his shoulders.

She saw that He Changzai was focused and concentrated, and she was embarrassed to disturb him.

Just standing in the distance, quietly watching, shooting.

All of a sudden, the water friends in the live broadcast room exploded, typing and discussing.

"Is my male god writing? His expression is so focused, I like it so much!"

"Oops, my heart is beating very hard, is this the feeling of a heartbeat!"

"As the saying goes, people in Moshang are like jade, and the son is unparalleled in the world. The temperament of my little brother's writing is far beyond this sentence. He gives people the feeling that he is a banished immortal!"

"Is my male god going to become a fairy boy? I really love it, I love it!"

"Have you noticed that the water in the inkstone washing pool in front of my little brother has turned black. It seems that no one's success is easy!"

"I remembered that sentence, the flower of success, people are only envious of her current beauty! But back then her bud..."

"That's right, we only saw the glamor and versatility of the little brother on the surface, but we didn't see the hard work behind him at all!"

"You can see that my little brother wrote a lot of things, and they all seem to be the same. He doesn't seem to be satisfied with what he wrote!"

"Sure enough, people who are self-disciplined and have high demands on themselves will succeed..."

……

At this time, the great modern calligrapher Xie Tiao who was watching the live broadcast looked at the words He Chang was writing, his eyes widened, and he exclaimed:
"The lines of this character are long and thin, short and thick, suitable for light and heavy, alternate in shades and shades, majestic and steep, beautiful and vivid. It is really a good character. I have written characters all my life, and I have never written such a good character!"

Just when Xie Tiao was admiring He Changzai's poem about traveling immortals.

He looked up at the sky, and felt that the words he wrote were not free and easy enough, so he casually threw the fairy poems on the ground into the water, packed up his things and turned to leave.

Suddenly, the broadcast room boiled up.

"Brother, why did you throw the calligraphy you wrote into the water? It's a pity for such a good character!"

"Handsome guy, I know you are a person who pursues perfection, in fact, I am too!"

"Brother, I really like the words of Fenghuo: Even if this life of a son of a bitch tramples me into a ball of mud, I can pinch you a dog's tail flower. Can you write it for me!"

"God, I don't want much, three words are enough!"

Xie Tiao looked at the wet paper in the pool and felt his heart was bleeding.

At the same time, I admire He Changzai's spirit of only seeking high-quality calligraphy works and pursuing high quality.

I decided to take my disciples to visit in person and ask for advice.

(End of this chapter)