Chu nightning was lying on the bed, his mind was dizzy, and his consciousness was sometimes sober and sometimes vague.
He seemed to hear the quarrel between two people in a trance, it seemed that it was the teacher and the ink burning, and then the sound of the quarrel disappeared, and there was only the whirring of the wind in his ears.
Later, he seemed to be lying in the warm bed, someone was talking to him, the broken voice seemed to be coming from across the ocean, he couldn't hear clearly, only occasionally floated in three or two sentences, what previous life, what master— He vaguely felt that it seemed to be the voice of the teacher, but he didn't have much energy to digest, and these sentences quickly dissipated like the fog in the morning.
His memories became complete and clear little by little. The memory of his past life was like rainwater flowing into a river and finally heading to the sea.
The first thing he dreamed of was the deep corridor. The corridor was built on the top of the dead and the red lotus waterside. The corridor was covered with vines and flowers. When the wind blew, the fragrant snow fell, and the paper was full of youth.
He was sitting on the porch, writing a letter at a stone table.
The letter could not be sent out. The Emperor Ta Immortal did not allow him to have contact with outsiders, nor did he allow him to keep pigeons or any animals. Even outside the red lotus pavilion, countless whistling and forbidden spells were overlaid.
But Chu nightning still wrote.
Too lonely, one person, one side of the world, probably have to live like this for a lifetime.
To say it's not annoying, that's a lie.
The letter was written to Xue Meng, and there is not much else. It is nothing more than asking about the recent situation, whether it is okay, asking how the sun and moon are outside, and how the old people are.
However, there is really no ancestor.
So a letter was written slowly for an afternoon without much content. At the end of the writing, I was a little lost, thinking in a trance of the days when the three young apprentices were safe by their side, and I had taught them to write poetry and paint.
Xue Meng and the teacher learned very quickly, only the ink burns, and it is wrong to write a word three or four times, and you have to teach him by hand.
What did you write at the time
Chu nightning was stunned, and the brush and ink slowly spread out on the rice paper.
He first wrote "the body is a bodhi tree, and the heart is like a bright mirror", and then he wrote "life has no roots, floating like dust on a moth", stroke by stroke, neat and neat.
Whether he was writing books or writing letters, his words were always clear and upright, and he was afraid that those who read would not be able to understand them, and that he was afraid that his disciples would follow him to learn crookedly.
The words are like people, and the spine is extremely proud.
He wrote "Where is the old man" and "the sea is wide and the mountains are far away".
Later, the wind blew the wisteria flowers and rested on the Huahua paper. He was reluctant to brush it. Looking at the faint and magnificent purple, the strokes of the pen gradually turned, and he wrote, "Wake up from a dream and watch the light rain, the country is still gentle and gentle. "
Flat and flat.
May I be like the star and the moon, and the lights are bright every night.
As I wrote and wrote, my eyes softened, as if returning to the quiet and peaceful days of the past.
The wind picked up, blowing the paper flying, and some paperweights that had not been pressed, were blown up, and the ground was messed up in the mottled and fragrant sunlight in the afternoon.
Chu nightning put down the brush, sighed, and went to pick up the letters and poems in that place.
One after another, fell on the grass, beside the stone steps, in the remnant flowers, among the dead leaves. He was about to pick up a piece of paper floating in the fragrance of falling Yingying.
Suddenly, a slender, well-proportioned hand with well-defined joints appeared in his field of vision, picking up the page before him.
"what are you writing?"
Chu nightning was stunned, straightened up, and stood in front of a tall and handsome man, who was the emperor who came to the water pavilion when he didn't know when to step on the fairy.
Chu nightning said: "... nothing."
The ink burned in a black gold robe, wearing a crown of nine, and Xiu Zhan's pale fingers also wore dragon scales on the fingers, apparently just returned from the court. He first glanced at Chu Wanning indifferently, then shook the Huahua paper in his hand, read two paragraphs, and his eyes narrowed: "Seeing the letter as a meeting, showing the letter Shu Yan..."
After a moment of silence, he raised his eyes and said, "What does this mean?"
"Means nothing."
Chu nightning said that he wanted to get the letter back, but was blocked by Mo Ran simply raising his hand.
"Don't." He said, "What are you nervous about?" After saying this, he looked down carefully, glanced a few lines, and said calmly, "Oh. Written for Xue Meng?"
"Written casually." Chu nightning didn't want to implicate others and said, "I didn't plan to send it out."
The ink burned and sneered: "You don't have the ability to send it out."
Chu nightning had nothing to say to him, and turned back to the table to clean up the pen, ink, paper and inkstone on that table. Unexpectedly, Step Xianjun walked over, showing his black and golden robe sleeves, holding the letter he was about to put away.
The phoenix eyes lifted up, facing the narrow face of Xianjun Shangtao.
"… "
Forget it, give it to him if he wants.
So he withdrew his hand and went to get another one, but he was pressed down by the ink.
In this way, he took one, and the ink burned one. In the end, Chu nightning was finally impatient. I don't know what the yin and yang of this person was crazy, raised his eyes, and said gloomily: "What do you want?"
"Seeing the letter is like meeting, showing the letter Shu Yan, what does it mean?" Mo Ran looked at him deeply, and his thin lips opened lightly, "Speak."
The flower branches and vine leaves flickered, and the light and shadow were mottled. Chu nightning couldn't help but think of the ink burning that had just worshipped under his door. His smile and words were very gentle, and he asked him with a respectful smile: "Master, body It's a bodhi tree, and the mind is like a mirror, what does this mean? Can Master teach me?"
Comparing the two, at this moment, the aggressive attitude of stepping Xianjun made Chu Xiaoning feel a pain in his heart. He lowered his head suddenly, stopped talking, and closed his eyes.
He didn't say a word, and the ink burned gradually gloomy. In this silence, he picked up the letter on the table and read it one by one. The more he looked back, the more dangerous his eyes became. He murmured thoughtfully, a man who could put the era title as "halberd", racking his brains to find the chapter excerpts by the stone table.
In the end, with a gloomy face, he suddenly brushed the stack of letter paper on the ground.
He raised his eyes coldly.
"Chu nightning, you miss him."
"… No."
He didn't want to get entangled with him, he turned around and was about to leave, but before he took two steps, the sleeve of the robe was grabbed, and then he grabbed his chin with a violent and fierce force, and he was suddenly pushed against the stone table. superior.
The ink-burning hand is so strong, so ruthless, and in a blink of an eye, there are bruises and red marks on his cheeks.
The sun shines down through the vine flower and shines in the eyes of Chu Wanning, and the eyes are reflected in the almost madly twisted face of Emperor Tengxian.
Handsome, pale.
hot.
Stepping on Xianjun didn't know the word shame, and Mutian began to tear Chu nightning's clothes on the ground. If there are other possibilities for pushing on the stone table, then starting to tear off the clothes obviously has nothing to do with it. Chu nightning almost shouted angrily: "Mo Weiyu!"
The tone full of anger and disappointment did not extinguish the burning evil fire, but fell like hot oil, splashing fierce flames.
When suddenly intruding in, Chu nightning only felt extreme pain.
He didn't want to touch the ink-burning back, and only grabbed the edge of the stone table spasmodically with his backhand, panting in a low voice: "Beast..."
There is a layer of blood in the burning eyes, and he doesn't judge the word "bad animal", but sullenly: "You don't explain it. You really shouldn't ask you again. You can't be regarded as the seat at all now. Master."
His movements are fierce and fierce, and he only seeks his own pleasure and comfort, but the feeling of Chu Wanning is like a mustard.
"What is Wanning now?" He almost gritted his teeth: "It's just a side concubine, forbidden to eat... The legs are separated from this seat."
During the entanglement, Mo Ran turned him over, the paper and ink on the table were chaotically beaten, and the brush fell to the ground. Chu nightning was pressed by him at the table, there was endless pain under him, and there was an endless vastness in front of him.
He looked at every word, every stroke.
The body is a bodhi tree, the mind is like a bright mirror...
Where is the old man
The sea is wide... the mountains are far away.
Words kill the heart.
In front of him, the ink of his youth was still smiling at him, and the dark eyelashes and feather curtains trembled gently, like a black butterfly perched on the ground.
The ear temples are the low breaths of stepping on Xianjun, humiliating him, bullying him, and saying hoarsely: "Chu nightning... Oh, the Chu concubine in this seat still thinks about others in her heart?"
"What do you wish me to be like a star and a king like the moon, every night with a bright light." There was killing intent in his voice, "Do you think I really don't understand at all?"
Chu nightning gritted his teeth and crouched on the stone table. Those who were bitten and pinched were all wet red marks, but Fengmu was stubborn: "You don't understand."
Knowing that speaking up will lead to more vicious treatment, but still insisting that you don't understand.
You don't know who the old friend is, and you don't know why Haikuoshanyao is.
You don't know who you are and who Yue is referring to.
You... won't understand.
After a lot of absurdity, Mo Ran finally let him go.
Chu nightning's clothes are messy, lying in the wisteria flowers, lying in the poetry and writing, there are red marks at the end of his eyes, like the bright color on the fingertips when the rouge flower is pinched off.
Lips were bitten and blood.
He got up and slowly put on his clothes... After being under house arrest for so long, from the initial gouging out of the heart, to the present, the sadness is no greater than the death of the heart.
What can he do now that the spirit core has been destroyed? The so-called dignity, but only after the event, always stubbornly dressed by oneself, unwilling to leave it to others.
When he did all this, the ink burned sitting at the stone table, holding the letters he had written, and reading them one by one.
When he saw the piece of paper that was awake from the dream and looking at the light rain, his hand seemed to freeze slightly, but soon he turned the piece of paper over, and then sneered: "The bones are soft, but the words are still beautiful. ."
He tucked the stack of letters into his robe and stood up.
The wind blew through his hem, and the golden thread on the black crown was flowing with splendor.
"gone."
Chu nightning did not speak.
The ink burned through his eyes, and the wisteria flower shadow made his dark eyes darker and deeper: "Won't you send this seat?"
The shade of the tree flowed, Chu nightning's voice was hoarse, and he said slowly: "I taught you."
The ink burned for a while: "What?"
"Seeing the letter is like meeting, showing the letter and Shuyan." After he finished saying this, he finally raised his eyelashes and glanced at the man who was very impressive, "I taught you to write, but you forgot."
"You taught me to write?" Mo Ran frowned. This is not to deliberately tease Chu Wanning. Looking at his appearance, he really has no impression at all.
Those who wanted to leave stopped again.
The ink burned and asked: "When did it happen?"
Chu nightning looked at him and said, "A long time ago."
After he finished saying this, he turned around and walked towards the house of Honglian Shuixie.
The ink burning pestle was in the same place, and it did not leave or come in for a while. Later, Chu nightning caught a glimpse of him from the window and returned to the stone table, flipping through the remaining stack of letters under the paperweight.
Chu nightning also closed the window.
That night, because he was tortured and didn't know how to clean himself properly, he felt a cold.
It was not a big deal, and he felt that the ink burned would not know. But for some unknown reason that day, I heard from Duke Liu that it seemed that Song Qiutong had cooked a bowl of chaoshou, and for some unknown reason, the Emperor Ta Immortal was furious. Walk away.
It was late at night and it started to rain heavily. At this time, people came to the red lotus waterside.
"Your Majesty has an decree to ask Master Chu to move to the bedroom."
These personal accomplices are clearly aware of the relationship between Mo Ran and Chu Wanning, but they are still asked by Mo Ran to call him a master.
If there is not a trace of good-heartedness, it is mean and vicious.
Chu nightning was very uncomfortable, his face was very pale, and the person was very gloomy, he said: "Don't go."
"Your Majesty has—"
"Nothing goes."
"… "
Going to bed with a patient is naturally not an interesting thing. When he was very unwell in the past, Mo Ran would basically not force anything.
But it didn't take long for the dismissed palace man to come back. He entered the red lotus waterside, bowed in front of Chu Wanning, who was coughing badly, and then said indifferently: "Your Majesty has a decree, small If you are well, please go to the Wushan Temple to serve you and go to bed.”