Almighty painter

Chapter 516 Heart
Buddha said: All hearts are non-minds, which are called hearts.

Translation: Buddha told Patriarch Subhuti that human hearts are changing all the time, and most of them are not true.

Although the name is "heart", it is just a flashy illusion like aquatic foam.

——Excerpted from "Diamond Sutra: The Same View of Everything" translated by Kumarajiva (Eastern Jin Dynasty)
-
A cloth bag full of money.

A smiling virgin, a compassionate young man.

Silent prostitute, laughing old man.

These few seconds.

Everything in front of Gu Weijing was probably this prostitution street, one of the many sludge alleys that continued to grow and extend with the opening of the port for trade, like a spider web in the bustling shadow of the magical city.

The most bizarre scene since the moment it was born.

Everyone has a different expression, and everyone seems to have said a thousand words even though they haven't said a word at this moment.

This was no longer simply a sound that the mother and daughter were not allowed to hear.

It seems that even such a strong man feels that this kind of thing is too miserable.

And the old dancer who still seems to have not recovered from this incredible scene, wondering if it is just a fantasy.

The guard frowned.

He frowned and trotted over, raising his hand to help the old gentleman.

The old painter smiled and bent down, as if he had seen the funniest thing in the world, laughing and coughing at the same time.

It's just expected and human nature, and there's nothing wrong with it.

The guards of Xin'an Department Store did not dare to have a head-on conflict with the Shanghai King's housekeeper in front of their own shopping mall, so they could only act as a deaf man in embarrassment.

He didn't move.

They were just a few strands of foam surging on the torrent, like glimmers of light.

He pointed at his nose mockingly with a trembling hand.

He looked at the girl holding the hand of the little girl with a stubborn look on her face, looked at his apprentice, looked at the girl who was holding the purse tightly, seemingly grasping the hope of her mother's life, and looked at the girl with a face full of joy, It seems that... she is not a prostitute who is interested in herself.

I have painted countless pictures, but I have no understanding of the joys, anger, sorrows, love, hate and separation of the world.

He hesitated.

"I would like to add another unpleasant thing to you. Living in a place like this, and suddenly receiving a large amount of money that is far more valuable than their lives, is really not necessarily a good thing."

What is drawn on paper is so shallow.

A sturdy man in a dark coat jumped out of another rickshaw that had been waiting behind him.

The old man smiled and bent down, waving his hand to indicate that the guards would be okay. He wiped the tears from his face with a handkerchief, still smiling.

Then he pointed to the apprentice on the other side.

The guard's tone was very soft.

Ensure that the master and apprentice can return safely.

If the sound gets a little louder and God hears it, a heavy rain will suddenly fall from the sky.

Still bending down, he whispered in the painter's ear: "Sir, there's no point. No matter how good the medicine is, it can't save the disease. It will only last for one or two years at most. It's just a waste of money."

The old man's hands trembled again.

The old man suddenly felt.

However, when the master and apprentice left in a rickshaw, the guilty owner still sent a follower and called a car to wait at the back, at least for a ride.

"Sir? This?"

He looked at the little girl holding up her wallet to express her gratitude to her mother as if she were offering a treasure.

"Don't ask me, just do as Xiaoxuan said. No worries. Please take the mother and daughter to see a doctor in Renji, the best doctor."

"To be honest, even if she is taken away, the woman may not want to be cured in her heart. You are compassionate, but to put it bluntly, what's the point of living like this after you have lived this life? "

"Sir, you have good intentions, but do you believe it or not, let alone Hua Liu's terminal illness, it can be cured. If we really take her here for treatment, this woman will be able to hang herself tonight?"

He was unwilling and unable to offend Shanghai's number one foreign bank.

The old man was silent for a moment.

Tears of laughter flowed freely.

He paused and said softly.

"You are a man of culture. But you may not have seen the real poor people. When I was a child, there was the Guangkang Poor Children's Relief Home established by the government in northern Jiangsu. There was an aunt who fled from the three eastern provinces and her husband died, and her life was really hard to live by. I want to send my child to the Ku'er Yuan. The person in charge of the Ku'er Yuan said that according to the policy issued, only those whose parents are dead are considered "ku'er". I saw with my own eyes that the woman asked her son to stay there calmly. Wait for him outside. As soon as the child goes out, she turns around and hits the corner to death. "

A strange portrait of all beings.

The guard is a hard worker on the dock. There have been more and more homeless people in recent years. It seems that people have become accustomed to this kind of thing.

"Even if she only spends one copper coin to buy medicine, she would definitely want to leave the money to her daughter."

hard to imagine.

This kind of rough-looking man, who works as a guard and a thug, can speak in such a voice that sounds like a mosquito.

He got a few reflections of the foam in the sky, and thought that his brush combined the blazing sun and the desolate moon.

Those nobles and nobles who spent every day in front of the mansion facing the "Painting Book", facing the "Book of Immortals", facing beautiful maids and fine wines, birds and birds, antiques and rare treasures, and competed in painting skills.

What are you studying every day?

Not an exaggeration.

In terms of the number of treasures, the collection is amazing.

Emperor Qianlong should be the number one collector of things both internal and external in the tens of thousands of years of human civilization.

Only based on the Qing Dynasty archival records such as "Shiqu Baoji", "Qing Palace Secret Files" and "Secret Palace Pearl Forest" can we reconstruct one or two things.

At that time, there were 225 volumes in the Qing palace alone recording various rare collection catalogs.

Nowadays, almost everything is regarded as a national treasure, and any one that goes up for auction is a Song Dynasty calligraphy and painting that started at 100 million yuan... I'm sorry, in Qianlong's warehouse, the number is counted in tens of thousands.

He made a hundred small paintings of Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty alone.

Although history always spirals upward.

But the quality of folk antique collections throughout the Qing Dynasty.

Far inferior to the Song, Yuan and Ming dynasties.

This has something to do with the political atmosphere of the Qing Dynasty, literary inquisition, etc., but it doesn’t have much to do with it.

Perhaps Qianlong alone must bear the greatest degree of responsibility. He can be called the first "devourer of art" and "glutton of calligraphy and painting" in human history.

Although Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty also did a lot of searching for art among the people, he also set up a stall outside the Daming Palace in Chang'an to collect all Wang Xizhi's authentic works.

However, classmate Li Er is dedicated anyway, and he is only a fan of Wang Xizhi.

Qianlong was a Neptune-type collector who loved everything. He was just like the money-obsessed landowner Lao Cai. He would move the good things to his home when he saw them. When he heard that there were good things somewhere, he would write a decree to collect them.

Sixty years of storm inhalation.

With the power of one person, he can almost completely devour a country's folk treasures and pile up millions of collections. The outrageousness of this matter is unprecedented in the entire history of art.

It has never been done before, and it is probably very difficult for anyone to do it in the future.

Many people have no idea about the luxury, pomp and exclusivity of wealth of the Qing Dynasty royal family.

What about the treasure rooms of the Medici, Louis XIV, Rockefeller, Rothschild, Paul Getty, these great collection families that were praised and boasted by later generations.

If Qianlong saw it.

It was only worthy for classmate Aixinjueluo Hongli to pick his nose and mock him, saying, "What a country boy", and then write a handwritten envelope and take him away.

Just like the last emperor Puyi's classic comment about Cao Xueqin, who wrote "A Dream of Red Mansions", which is "the emperor's golden hoe" -

"Everything in this book is good, but it's too small-minded, and it feels very inconsistent. What about Yuan Fei's visit to the bride, and the pomp and circumstance of this trip, even after I abdicate, I go to the Summer Palace to relax easily, and follow the eunuchs and maids who are waiting for me. A lot of change.”

Qianlong was certainly far from the "Old Man with Perfect Things" in the world who he longed for, but if he could be said to be the "Collector of Everything" with everything in the world, there might not really be any problem.

however.

Even if it is sitting on the best art collection in Yunei.

When I return to the palace every morning, I take the big eunuch and the little eunuch with me, close the door like a printing press and huddle in the royal study room, "bang, bang, clang" and stamp their names like crazy.

Covered for a full sixty years.

What kind of thing has been covered up and come out?

Talk about the eight sufferings of all living beings in front of Buddhist paintings, talk about tranquility and inaction in front of Taoist immortals, talk about desolation and loneliness in front of "The Picture of Cold Camels and Remaining Snow", and talk about how difficult people's lives are in front of "The Picture of Hundreds of Lives of Refugees".

But in the cheers and flattery of the ministers, "I am no more merciful and merciful than the king."

Does the supreme emperor of the world really understand what the eight sufferings of all living beings mean, what it means to be quiet and inactive, what it means to be desolate and cold, and what it means to have people's lives be so difficult?

I would rather be at a tea party with singing and dancing silk and bamboo, while warming my hands with the bosom of twenty-eight beautiful maids, I would rather sing softly, "A hundred springs will be swallowed by the cold, but I will sing the cold even more.", thinking about the words and sentences of the ancients.

But he was unwilling to step out of the charcoal fire to warm the soup and look at the frozen bones on the roadside.

Ye Gong loves dragons. He looks for fish from trees and sits in a well to look at the sky.

Nothing more than that.

The old painter felt so clearly that the pain in the calligraphy and painting he painstakingly created pales in comparison to the real suffering and pain.

The daughter's smile and the mother's smile are so profound and complicated.

Since Gu Kaizhi was reincarnated, Wu Daozi was resurrected.

I'm afraid it's impossible to portray such strong emotions.

"Write your heart with your heart, write your blood with your blood. How many people in the past and present have been able to do it?"

The old man said to himself silently in his heart.

"It's really different."

He suddenly raised his head and spoke in a decisive voice as if to the guards around him, as to the prostitute, as to Cao Xuan, and as to himself.

"Cure, it can be cured."

He waved to Cao Xuan, and then said to the prostitute and his daughter next to him.

"To get treatment and take them to a place to live, please put all expenses on my account."

Bang!
The dancer knelt on the ground holding her daughter.

"Herr, erbarme..."

She is a refugee who has been forgotten here.

She had lived in the magical city for many years, but at this moment, as if a ray of miraculous light appeared in front of her in her dim life, she still spoke her mother tongue subconsciously.

The old prostitute seemed to be praying and thanking her. She knocked her head to the ground one after another at Cao Xuan and Cao Xuan's teacher, causing her forehead to turn purple.

The old man couldn't understand what the other person was saying.

At this point, there is no need to understand the language.

Reflect the heart with the heart.

All language has lost its weight.

He just pulled Cao Xuan to avoid the mother and daughter's prostrations, and in turn bowed to the end, and then did not take the rickshaw again.

The master and the disciple held hands.

Just like the residents here, feeling the weight of the mud under their feet, they walked along the alleys step by step.

"I came to Shanghai last time and didn't buy the foreign suona I wanted. Aren't you disappointed?"

the old man suddenly asked.

"It's Saxophone." Cao Xuan corrected him seriously, his tone sounding like an adult. "Disappointed, no regrets."

The music played by no musical instrument is more important than a person's life.

"You can only change the lives of this mother and daughter. Such things happen every moment in this city, among the 40 million compatriots, and every moment. Don't you think so? Powerless?"

"I only have so much strength." Cao Xuan said.

"Then what if one day I have more strength? I reach a higher place."

"Then save more people."

It has some heat and some light, just like a firefly, it can also shine a little in the dark.

Cao Xuan heard the meaning of the old man's words, and recalled what his master had said to him with great expectations that night half a month ago, and he said it with some embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, teacher, I didn't draw the painting you wanted. I also made a mess in Shanghai. I made you disappointed with my painting."

"Do not."

"Aren't you disappointed? You just said that my character makes it difficult for me to take on big responsibilities."

"No, I mean, none of that matters anymore."

The old painter shook his head.

"A few days ago, I said the five words 'Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva' to you. Do you know how to interpret these five words?" He spoke softly.

"Like a word puzzler, I couldn't find the answer in the scriptures I've heard." Cao Xuan shook his head.

"No, this is not a scripture, it is just a word puzzle." The old man smiled, "These are not my words. I wrote a letter to Shuya a few years ago. I asked him what kind of person he thought. Only then can we bear the weight of China and the next generation of literary and artistic inheritors. He wrote these five words in his reply to me. "

Shuya is the name of Liu Wendian, a great scholar in the history of Chinese studies during the Republic of China.

Liu Wendian was greatly appreciated by Chen Duxiu and served as Sun Yat-sen's secretary when he was the president of Anhui University.

Legend has it that because Lao Jiang asked him to hand over the progressive students of our party in the school, he kicked Lao Jiang in the stomach with a roundhouse kick, and he was almost killed by Lao Jiang. According to folk tabloid legends, there is also a version of "a carp was erect and kicked on Lao Jiang's crotch".

He is known as the number one madman in the Republic of China.

At this time, he was serving as the head of the Department of Chinese Literature at Tsinghua University.

"I thought about it for a long time before I figured it out. This is a word puzzle. The so-called Guanshiyin Bodhisattva, the so-called "Guanshiyin" refers to observing the various conditions of the market and knowing the sufferings of all living beings. The world means understanding the world and the human heart, and accurately grasping joy, anger, sorrow and joy. "Yin" means both Whether writing or painting, we must pay attention to the rhythm of the music, which is as clear and moving as the mountains and flowing water. The most important thing is the last word Bodhisattva, which means having the heart of a Bodhisattva to save suffering and care for all living beings.”

(End of this chapter)