"Do you still remember the master carpenter who came here to help my uncle build the city gate almost ten years ago?"
That happened when Pei Xiaoyuan was thirteen or fourteen years old. At that time, the surrounding situation was still unstable. When Pei Ji was surveying the terrain, he found that there was a relatively narrow area between the foothills and the river valley hundreds of miles away. It was a natural pass with an excellent location. He wanted to use the terrain to build a pass tower to resist the enemy. However, the surrounding terrain was steep, and it was not easy to build a pass here. He had found many craftsmen, but all of them were helpless. Later, a man came. He was about the same age as my uncle. He was not good-looking, with a messy beard, and loved drinking. He hung a wine gourd around his waist all day and was drunk. After arriving, he went up and down the mountains and valleys, and circled around for seven days. After several nights of candlelight, he took out a map of the pass tower with exquisite structure and supervised it personally. My uncle mobilized tens of thousands of local soldiers and civilians to participate in the construction. After more than half a year, the pass was successfully built according to the terrain and was as solid as a rock. After the work was done, the master craftsman left and never showed up again. Because the impression of this incident was too deep, Pei Xiaoyuan remembered it as soon as Pei Ji mentioned it lightly.
"Yes. If my nephew is not mistaken, my uncle and the master craftsman must be old acquaintances."
"Yes. I met him in Beijing many years ago. At that time, he was well-known all over the world, and everyone in Chang'an knew him."
Pei Xiaoyuan was startled, and suddenly thought of Pei Ji's previous words, and suddenly realized: "Could it be that he is..."
This was really unexpected. He hesitated and didn't say what he guessed.
Pei Ji nodded: "You are right. He is Ye Zhongli."
"He was truly a genius. His abilities were not limited to painting, he was also proficient in architecture. After entering the palace, he also served as the chief architect of the imperial court and was ordered to repair palaces and imperial mausoleums. The Wansui Palace that was burned down was his work."
"He didn't have close friendships with people. In his life, he loved drinking besides painting. The late emperor often gave him generous gifts, but he was chivalrous and spent a lot of money. He often supported the folk painters, stonemasons or sculptors who served with him in the temples and grottoes. He was too short of money himself, and sometimes he didn't even have enough money for wine. My uncle admired him and deliberately approached him with fine wine. Fortunately, he thought more highly of him than others, so he had some exchanges with him. The days of making friends and drinking wine were also the most carefree time in my uncle's life."
It was the first time that Pei Xiaoyuan heard his uncle talking to him about his past, so he listened attentively.
"People living in this world are like the blowing dust."
Pei Ji sighed slightly.
"Many years later, my uncle was demoted to be a county magistrate and moved frequently. One year, while on the road, he was taking shelter from the rain and happened to pass by a small temple of an unknown sage king in the countryside. On the wall, he saw four paintings: Emperor Yao abdicating, King Shun working hard, King Tang praying for rain, and Dayu controlling floods. The lines were very much like leaf paintings, full of spirit and charm, which shocked me."
"It had been nearly twenty years since I last saw him in Beijing. If it wasn't too unbelievable, I would have thought it was his authentic work. But even if it wasn't, there are countless painters in the world who copy his paintings day and night and learn his brushwork. To be able to imitate to such an extent, it can be said to be indistinguishable from the real thing, and it is definitely not an ordinary hand. I saw that the paint was not yet dry, so it must have been finished not long ago, so I wanted to visit the painter..."
He asked the nearby villagers and learned that the local area was famous for brewing wine, which was well-known far and wide. A few days ago, a family in the village married off their daughter and dug up a dozen jars of 18-year-old girl's red wine buried under a tree. The aroma of wine filled the air. An old man and a young man happened to pass by and refused to leave. They wanted to ask for wine, but it was difficult to ask for it. When they heard that the temple at the head of the village needed a painter, they immediately recommended themselves. The villagers did not believe him and laughed at him for being crazy at first, but he did not care at all. He asked the young man to stand under the wall to mix the colors. He drank a pot of wine himself and did not care how the villagers watched and pointed out. He was drunk and painted. The four holy kings were lifelike and the villagers were amazed. They called the old immortal and knelt down in front of the mural he painted. Finally, they asked him to exchange it for a jar of girl's red wine and left the village with it.