After placing the inkstone and gathering a wisp of clear spring water, Ji Yuan started to grind the ink himself.
A good ink stick is not only extraordinary in appearance and fragrance, but also in this moment. When grinding the ink, it feels very smooth and the ink comes out very evenly. The water in the inkstone is almost instantly dyed black.
Almost all the characters on "Jian Yi Tie" were half-standing up, and each one was looking towards the direction of the inkstone.
Grinding ink brings a simple sense of ritual, which makes Ji Yuan's heart more peaceful. This change in will even affects the atmosphere around Ji Yuan, making the originally restless small characters appear unusually quiet.
The ink ground from the inkstone is like a pool of black spring water. It is not only translucent but also emits a faint fragrance of ink. It is so delicate that there is not a trace of flaw.
He took the brush, pulled up his sleeve, dipped the brush in ink... During this process, "Sword Intent Letter" had "slid" onto the table in front of Ji Yuan.
The temple keeper was not a man who liked to lavishly write, so there was no desk in the room, only this small round table. But at this moment, the elegance of the small round table was no less than any incense table.
"The Sword Intent Post was written by Zuo Li, preserving his divine will at its peak, which also makes you extraordinary. But Zuo Li is not the real Zuo Jianxian after all. The words are heavy and sharp, with less variety and more spirit..."
Ji Yuan picked up the pen, with the tip of the pen still five inches above "Sword Intent Letter", and said as he looked at these quiet little characters.
"Writing is also a manifestation of Taoism. Iron painting and silver hook can also moisten the ink and show the spirit. When I brush ink for you, you can't just focus on consuming the ink. You also need to visualize my intention of concentrating my spirit when I put pen to paper. I will brush ink for you in nine different handwriting variations at the appropriate time. Today is the first one. If anyone is distracted and doesn't pay attention, I won't do it again just for you. Do you understand?"
There was silence on "Sword Intent Post", but Ji Yuan knew it was not because they did not understand, nor because they were distracted and did not hear. On the contrary, these small words were all written very seriously.
He nodded, and the wolf-hair brush finally fell, dotted on the first character "吾".
(I have loved weapons since I was young, especially swords. I got a wooden sword when I was six years old...)
The emotions of the entire "Sword Intent Post" change with Zuo Li's life, from high spirits to old age, from the excitement and anxiety of entering the world of martial arts to the loneliness of being invincible. However, Ji Yuan wrote with brush ink, naturally trying to fade away Zuo Li's emotions as much as possible to show the agility of the handwriting itself.
It took me more than an hour to write a piece of book. In fact, it took less than half a quarter of an hour, as most of the time was spent on grinding the ink.
After writing once, he used exactly ten ink sticks. In addition, Ji Yuan added his own magic power and a trace of Xuanhuang Qi when grinding the ink, which consumed a lot of his energy.
But the result is also gratifying. The whole "Sword Intent Post" is now full of bright and shining ink. Each small character is like a meditating monk, quietly shrouded in this layer of light. After a long time, the ink is gradually drying up, but the light remains.
"Not bad, you are indeed a natural calligrapher!"
Ji Yuan exclaimed sincerely that he liked these little guys from the bottom of his heart, and he was more aware of their uniqueness and wonder.
There are many repetitions among these hundreds of characters, but even two seemingly repetitive characters actually contain similar but different spirituality.
Although there are only a hundred or so words, Ji Yuan has never been a greedy person. It is already a blessing for him to get these hundred or so words.
Although these characters make up the "Sword Intent Letter", Ji Yuan believes that with the help of his ink brush, without breaking up their unity and integrity, the variability will increase, and by then the characters can be combined into countless possibilities.
Placing the wolf-hair brush on the brush holder, Ji Yuan stretched his muscles, and sat beside it to concentrate on meditation.
. . .
Although there were people coming to burn incense in the alley land temple from time to time, it was actually quite quiet for Ji Yuan. He stayed here for three days. Except for the first day when he helped with the writing of small characters and applied ink, the next two days were more relaxing, and he mostly went out to wander around Moyuan County.
As a place famous for its ink production, now that he was here, Ji Yuan had to take a good tour, understand the general manufacturing process of various fine inks, listen to the history of ink production in Moyuan County, and its various cultural characteristics.
During this period, the local village god distributed ink to Ji Yuan several times, and brought him boxes of high-quality ink, including lacquer soot ink, pine soot ink, oil soot ink and other fine products.
On the third night, after the priests and workers of the land temple had gone to bed, there was another knock on Ji Yuan's door.
“Boom boom boom…”
Ji Yuan was deducing the practice formula of "The Wonderful Law of Heaven and Earth" by writing. When he heard the knock on the door, he knew who was outside. He just said "Come in" lightly, and then continued to write without changing his mind.
The God of Land held a much smaller box in one hand and a wooden stick in the other and pushed open the door. Seeing that Ji Yuan was writing, he moved more gently. After carefully closing the door, he slowly walked forward and whispered.
"Hey, Mr. Ji, I found something really great and I'm here to present it to you!"
The God of Land has indeed found a lot of good ink these days, but he always feels that it is not good enough, because the ink is not worth the money.
Today, he finally felt more at ease. Of course, the box of ink in his hand still could not be compared with the value of French coins, but in his opinion, it was already the best ink in the world and was somewhat more important.
"Please look, sir!"
The God of Land walked to the table and opened the box as if he was offering a treasure.
At this moment, Ji Yuan made another wrong calculation, and the natural meaning of the wonderful method was confused. He stopped writing, turned his head and looked into the box of the Earth God. He saw more than a dozen ink sticks lying inside, which looked like layers of gold thread patterns stacked up.
"This is?"
"Hehehe, sir, you don't know, this is an extremely rare golden scent ink, which is almost never circulated in the regular market. Even the rich and powerful people often have a hard time getting one, and they may not even have heard of it!"
"So this is Jin Xiang Mo!"
Ji Yuan blurted out words of surprise. He had been touring Moyuan County these past two days and had heard of the name of Jinxiang Ink from an old disabled ink maker.
It is said that this kind of ink is extremely difficult to make and the process is extremely complicated, just like a swordsman forging a top-grade sword. During the ink-making process, ink fat is embedded and pressed and accumulated layer by layer to form circles of golden lines as thin as cicada wings.
"The fragrance is as deep as ink, the black fat is like ointment, the juice sticks to the pen, and the shape is solidified when it falls on paper!"
When the God of Land heard Ji Yuan talk about these tricks, he was even happier. The more knowledgeable Mr. Ji is, the better.
"As expected of Mr. Ji, you understand everything! Yes, this is the Golden Fragrance Ink, a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Do you like it, sir?"
"I like it, of course I like it. Thank you very much, God of Land, for finding this golden ink for me. Thank you very much!"
Ji Yuan bowed his hands in thanks. These dozen golden fragrance ink sticks were very useful. They would be just right for him to use when he was applying ink for the ninth time to write those small characters, and he would even have a few extra sticks left.
After getting so much ink, Ji Yuan didn't want to go any further, so he directly told the God of Land that he had enough ink and there was no need to look for more. He also told him that he was leaving soon.
This made the God of Land feel relieved, but also somewhat disappointed.
This person is definitely an immortal cultivator with extraordinary supernatural powers. If he could live in the land temple permanently, he might have a great opportunity. But such things cannot be forced. This meeting is already a matter of fate.
After the God of Land left, Ji Yuan took out all the ink in his hand and placed it on the table, together with the Golden Fragrance Ink, a total of four large boxes and one small box.
These top-quality inks are the result of the hard work of many senior ink-making masters. The creation of each piece of high-quality ink is time-consuming, laborious and demanding, especially the Jinxiang ink. It can be said that each piece of ink is unique and stands out among the same batch of original inks.
With boxes of ink of this quality placed in front of him, even Ji Yuan had a feeling that 'I, Ji, am very wealthy now'.
The next day, Ji Yuan got up early, said goodbye to the temple keeper, and headed north.
Looking at Ji Yuan's receding back, the temple keeper did not feel relieved at all. To be honest, he was nervous at the beginning and was cautious in receiving him. But this Mr. Ji was like the warm sunshine in winter, humorous, knowledgeable and witty. It was natural to feel comfortable to be with him, and there was no sense of oppression at all.
Although it was only three short days, the temple keeper and even the two temple workers were a little reluctant to see Mr. Ji go. They just told Ji Yuan that if he passed by again in the future, they hoped he could stay at the temple again.
During the lunch break at noon that day, the temple keeper was again visited by the God of Land in his dream and was highly praised by him.
As for Ji Yuan, this time he was of course heading towards Daliang Temple. Originally, he didn't have to meet Monk Huitong this time, but after hearing some interesting stories at the dinner table, Ji Yuan wanted to go and see if the monk was still in such an embarrassing situation.
To some extent, as long as it is harmless, Ji Yuan also has a bit of a bad taste. Anyway, there are still a few years before the Xianyou Conference, so it won’t be too late to go to Daliang Temple first and then to Yuhuai Mountain.
. . .
Even though Ji Yuan did not deliberately use the art of flying to travel faster, he just strolled around Tingliang like a flying dragon. Without staying overnight, he arrived at Tongqiu Prefecture in the northern border of Tingliang State half a month later, which was the area where Daliang Temple was located.
Just as Mr. Liu said, Tingliang State was much better than Zuyue State, but it was still not as good as Dazhen. Many places along the way were not considered rich. Although the people had enough food and clothing, they had almost no savings. Once there was any natural disaster or man-made disaster, it would be difficult to get strong assistance in this social environment.
However, Tongqiu Prefecture was adjacent to the capital of Tingliang State, so it was naturally a prosperous place. When he arrived at several nearby prefectures, Ji Yuan saw more smiles on the faces of the people.
At the end of September, outside Daliang Temple, Ji Yuan was walking on the road to Daliang Temple with other pilgrims.
The ground here is paved with bluestone and is wide enough for four carriages to run side by side. In addition to pedestrians and carriages, there are people pushing carts carrying incense sticks and other items, and there are also people carrying wooden targets for candied haws and selling them as they walk, creating a lively scene.
Ji Yuan heard all the pilgrims' whispers. Soon he heard several voices discussing Master Hui Tong. The clear and pleasant voices should have come from young women.
“Ding… Ding… Ding…”
The sound of the Daliang Temple's bell could be heard from afar, and a magnificent Buddhist temple was already looming before our eyes.