The peasant husband is a squeamish bag

Chapter 141
Yun Cheng walked over, spread out the paper, and pressed it down with a stone ballast.

"Yun Cheng, are you going to write? Shall I sharpen the ink for you?"

Yun Cheng nodded: "The study is a bit empty, it's good to write some words and hang it up for decoration."

Luo Jia carefully thought about the sequence when Jin Xiaoxi polished the ink last time, first dip the ink stick with some water, and then lightly ink.

Luo Jia blocked the sleeve of his right hand from left to right, and slowly rubbed the ink with his right hand, but it may be the first time, he is not familiar with it, and the force is not very uniform, causing the ink in Luo Jia's hand to splash, directly splashing onto Yun Cheng on the clothes.

Luo Jia quickly put down the ink stick: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Yun Cheng."

Yun Cheng flicked it casually, it seemed that today's interest was really good.

Not only was Yun Cheng not angry, but he also held the ink stick in Luo Jia's hand: "No problem."

"The thing about grinding ink is to be calm, to move your hands with your wrists, casual and peaceful. After a long time of grinding, you can feel that people's hearts can calm down."

"Don't be impatient."

Yun Cheng said at the same time.While holding Luo Jia's hand, it shook slightly.

Yun Cheng was still wearing bright red, and Luo Jia was wearing sky blue. The two of them rubbed against each other because their wrists overlapped and their wide sleeves rubbed against each other.

Red and blue rub together, this color is extraordinarily beautiful.

The tip of the nose was wrapped in grass and wood fragrance again, Luo Jia's heart beat a little faster, and his mind was a little blank.

"Cloud ride?"

"Ok?"

"It's nothing."

"Try it." Yun Cheng let go of Luo Jia's hand and let Luo Jia try it himself, and it really went well.

Only then did Yun Cheng pick up a pen, dipped the pen in the ink, picked up the pen, and wrote without pausing at all.

Complete in one go, walk like a pen and a dragon.

Luo Jia waited until Yun Cheng stopped writing before slowly looking at it, and saw the words "Jing Ge and Iron Horse" vividly written on the paper, looking murderous.

"Yun Cheng, you really have a good handwriting!" Luo Jia's eyes were a little envious, and a little adored.

"Can you read?" When Yun Cheng asked this question, there was no sarcasm, just a simple question.

Luo Jia shook his head: "I can't read."

"But I can not only feel the arrogance in your words, but also the sea of ​​swords and blood in this poem you wrote!"

"It seems that there are many people who are fighting..." Luo Jia carefully talked about his feelings, and Yun Cheng's every move, even a single word, could tell him to take him to a different world.

Seeing Yun Cheng staring at him closely, Luo Jia suddenly felt a little embarrassed, his face turned pink: "Sorry Yun Cheng, maybe I made a mistake, after all, I can't read."

"No!"

"That's right!"

"You're right, what I wrote is the battlefield." Yun Cheng was only surprised by Luo Jia's perception, although Yun Cheng said without humility, as a generation of calligraphers, coupled with her cultivation base and divine sense, Generally, writing can easily bring others into your own artistic conception.

But like Luo Jia, who is illiterate and can still perceive, Luo Jia's perception is also very powerful.

It is said that looking for a bosom friend from a thousand miles away, Yun Cheng was already ready to put the words into words, but he met a Luo Jia who could understand what he wrote.

Yun Cheng was still a little happy.

"Then Yuncheng, can you read to me what you wrote?"

Yun Cheng nodded, and his voice was cold and serious: "The yin and yang of the year and the end of the year remind the short scene, and the sky is frosty and snowy.

The sound of drums and horns was tragic and vigorous, and the shadow of the Three Gorges Galaxy was shaken.

Ye Cry thousands of families heard the war, and Yi Ge started fishing in several places.

The crouching dragon and the leaping horse end up in the loess, and the human affairs, news and books are long and lonely. "

This is about snow, and war. Yun Cheng just wrote it out of feeling, and wrote it casually.

(End of this chapter)