Home Has a Fairy Garden

Fang Zhe called the children out of the room, Yunduo went to the kitchen to bring out some snacks and fruits, and made a pot of scented tea. Because Yunduo was afraid that the children would not sleep well after drinking tea at night, he made various kinds of scented tea at night.

Especially the wolfberry chrysanthemum tea made by Yunduo, when it is brewed, put a few longans with nuclei in it, it will definitely sleep well all night.

After a few children came out of the house, they saw the refreshment from the cloud, and surrounded them excitedly, but the cloud asked them to wait for a while to eat, and the scented tea should be made for a while. Let them first look at the things on the table in the living room.

"Be careful, don't break it." Fang Zhe hurriedly cried when he saw Yun Chen's paws grabbing his most precious willow body Buddhist scripture.

Yun Chen retracted his hand, isn't it just a book? As for.

As if he knew Yun Chen's thoughts, Fang Zhe flicked Yun Chen's forehead, "Smelly boy, this is a national treasure, you know? It will be damaged if you don't be careful." Fang Zhe also glanced at Yun Duo, Yun Duo. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, this guy, that silky silk doesn't blame her, it's true.

Fang Zhe smiled, and then began to show the children these antiques, first let them see the porcelain. Tell them that some of the porcelains were initially estimated to be from the Tang and Song Dynasties, especially the beautiful secret porcelain, which is radiant and blue, and it feels like blue dripping out. Several children kept watching, admiring the wisdom of the ancients.

After looking at a few exquisite porcelains, Fang Zhe spread the book on the table for the children to watch.

When I opened the book, a long-lasting breath came to my face. There was no ink fragrance, but I could smell it. Everyone watched quietly, and Fang Zhe didn't open all of them. I just showed it to everyone and let them feel it. The breath of history. Just put away a few books again treasured. There doesn't seem to be room for this, so he is a little bit worried about gains and losses.

When Yun Duo saw that they had read the book well, he greeted everyone over for tea and snacks. After eating dim sum, everyone discussed the harvest this time. Fang Zhe got interested and decided to tell everyone about Liu Gongquan's life.

When Liu Gongquan was young, his handwriting was terrible, and he was often reprimanded by his husband and father because of the twists and turns of the big characters. Xiao Gongquan is very strong, and he is determined to practice his handwriting well. After more than a year of hard training day and night, his writing has improved greatly. Compared with friends of the same age in Liujiayuan, the word "Gongquan" has become the best in the village. Since then, he has written big characters. Xiao Gongquan was very proud of being praised by his classmates, praised by the teacher, and even the stern father's face showed a smile.

Liu Gongquan and a few friends set a square table under the old mulberry tree next to the village, held a "book meeting", and agreed that each would write a block letter. Watch each other's games. Gongquan quickly wrote an article. At this time, an old man selling tofu brain put down his burden and went to rest under the mulberry tree. He watched the children practice calligraphy with great interest. Liu Gongquan handed over what he had written and said, "Grandpa, do you think I write well?" The old man took a look and saw that it was written "I can write Feifeng's house." . Dare to boast in front of others.” The old man felt that the child was too proud, frowned, and groaned for a while before he said, “I think this word is not well written. It’s not worth boasting in front of others. This word seems to be part of my burden. Tofu is the same as the brain, soft and crumpled, without muscles and bones, without body, is it worthy of praise in front of others?" Several friends stopped writing and listened carefully to the old man's comments. Seeing the old man uttering his own handwriting in a mess, Xiao Gongquan said unconvincedly: "People say that my handwriting is good. You can't say it badly. If you have the ability, you can write a few words and let me see!"

The old man smiled heartily and said: "Don't be, don't be! My old man is a rough man and can't write well. However, some people can write much better than you with their feet! If you don't believe me, you go to Huajingcheng Take a look inside!"

At first, Xiao Gongquan was very angry, thinking that the old man was scolding him. Later, thinking of the old man's kind face and hearty laughter, which did not resemble scolding him, I decided to visit Huajing City. Huajing City is more than forty miles away from Liujiayuan. The next day, he started a five-shift watch, quietly left a note for his family, and went to Huajingcheng alone, carrying a bun bag.

As soon as Liu Gongquan entered the Shoumen Gate of Huajing City, he saw a white cloth under a big locust tree in North Street with three large characters "Calligraphy and Painting Soup" written on it. The font was vigorous and powerful, and the brushwork was vigorous and unrestrained. There were many people under the tree, and he squeezed into the crowd to look at it, and he couldn't help being stunned. I saw a black and thin deformed old man with no arms and bare feet sitting on the ground. With his left foot pressed against the paper spread on the ground, a large pen was held on his right foot, and he was writing couplets freely. His handwriting is like a god, and his handwriting resembles a gallop of horses and dragons flying and phoenix dancing, winning cheers from the audience.

Only then did Xiao Gongquan know that the old man selling tofu did not tell lies. He was extremely ashamed and thought: Compared with the old man who writes and draws soup, I am really far behind. He knelt in front of the grandfather with a "plop" and said: "I would like to worship you as a teacher. My name is Liu Gongquan. Please accept me. May the master tell me the secret of writing..." The grandfather hurriedly put down the pen in his foot and used Pulling his feet up, Xiao Gongquan said: "I am a lonely deformed person. I was born with no hands and couldn't work. I had to live on my feet. Although I can write a few crooked characters, how can I be worthy of being a teacher?"

Xiao Gongquan begged again and again, and the grandfather laid a piece of paper on the ground, lifted the pen with his right foot, and wrote: "Write all eight cylinders of water, and the inkstone will stain the waterlogging pond. If you win over hundreds of parents, you will win the dragon and phoenix. "

The old man said to Gongquan: "This is the secret of my writing. I have been writing with my feet since I was a child, and I have been practicing for more than 50 years. My family has a large tank that can hold eight dans of water. I ran out of eight tanks of water. There is a half-acre waterlogged pond outside my wall. I wash the inkstone in the pond every day after I finish writing. The water in the pond is black. However, my writing skills are still far behind! "

Liu Gongquan engraved the old man's words firmly in his heart. He thanked the old man deeply before returning reluctantly.

Since then, Liu Gongquan has worked hard to practice his calligraphy, he rubbed a thick cocoon on his hand, and his elbows have been patched up one layer after another. He learns the vigor and fatness of the face, the cheerfulness of the European style, the boldness of the calligraphy and painting soup, and the graceful and charming of the palace style. He often sees people peeling cattle and sheep, studying the structure of the skeleton, and derive enlightenment from it. He also pays attention to observe the big geese in the sky, the swimming fish in the water, the running moose, and the running horses, casting all the beautiful forms of nature into the art of calligraphy.

Liu Gongquan finally became a famous calligrapher in Tang Dynasty in China. His characters are rigorous in structure, strong and soft, sparse and open. They are cherished by the calligraphy circle and are known as the "face of the bones". However, Liu Gongquan was still very dissatisfied with his writing until he was old. In his later years, he lived in seclusion in the Stork Magpie Valley (now known as Liugou) in the south of Huajing City. He specialized in calligraphy and practiced handwriting diligently until his death at the age of eighty-eight.

The three children were all thoughtful when they heard it. Fang Zhe watched them laugh without saying a word. The truth is that you can only think about it by yourself. If you absorb it, you can benefit your whole life. The road to cultivation is not easy, and only by correcting one's mentality can one gain something.