Yang Shouwen’s mother’s tomb was built on the top of Guangwu Mountain.
Qingming Festival is approaching, and peaches and apricots are in full bloom.
The drizzle fell in the sky, covering Guangwu Mountain in hazy mist.
It can be seen that the Zheng family attaches great importance to Yang's mother. Judging from the size of the tomb, it is obviously quite impressive. A small pavilion was built next to the tomb, and there was a stone tablet in the pavilion with the words "Penggui Pavilion" written on it, which was ancient and majestic.
"When Shijiulang was not yet a lieutenant in Henan, he would come to worship every year.
To be honest, I am not as good as a brother. I have only worshipped him a few times in the past ten years, and I am really ashamed."
Yang Chenglie did not answer, walked to the tombstone, reached out to touch him gently.
There were no weeds on the grave, and it was obvious that someone was cleaning it regularly. He squatted down and said to himself: "Xiwen was closest to Shijiulang during his lifetime. I still remember that she and I came here to climb high and look into the distance.
I hope to visit the pavilion, was this pavilion built by Shijiulang?"
Yang Shouwen and Song stood behind Yang Chenglie with a solemn expression.
Yang took Yang Rui and Qingnu, holding Yan Yue in his arms, and stood behind the two of them. Yang Moli and Song Sanlang's family stood on one side, with everyone's faces solemn, looking at the tombstone quietly.
"Yes, you came back with your third sister's coffin that year and left in a hurry.
After more than ten years of no news, Shijiulang built this pavilion pavilion. He said that the third sister must not worry about you and hope you can return soon. The wind on the mountain is strong, and building a pavilion can shelter the third sister from the wind and rain. I believe you will be very happy."
Listening to the conversation between Yang Chenglie and Zheng Jingsi also made Yang Shouwen's sense of the Zheng family better and better.
After witnessing the ending of Lu Yongcheng in the Battle of Changping, Yang Shouwen was somewhat afraid of those nobles. The wealthy families did not have eternal affection, but only had eternal benefits. Lu Yong was dedicated to becoming the Lu family, but in the end he was completely erased from the genealogy by Lu Huaiyi. Even Lu Yongcheng's wife and children were said to have been driven out of the Lu family after the Battle of Changping, and their whereabouts were unknown... And the Lu clan members of the Baoxiang Pavilion in Changping had no end in the end. But the problem is that they were all fighting for the Lu family and even sacrificed their lives for it.
The Lu family and even the wealthy families of aristocratic families have become synonymous with ruthlessness in Yang Shouwen's mind.
However, the Zheng family in Xingyang seems to be a little different.
After learning that his family was hiding in Changping, Zheng Lingzhi sent five hundred soldiers to Changping without saying a word and took Yang Chenglie's family over. Are there any other factors? Yang Shouwen was not clear about it. But what they did was very humane and made people feel comfortable. Especially when looking at the Zheng family's care for their biological mother, he also felt good.
The drizzle is silent and moistens things.
Yang Chenglie squatted in front of the grave, lit incense and candles, and arranged the offerings.
He took out the "Journey to the West" written by Yang Shouwen from the package, and a thick stack was lit one by one in front of the grave.
"Sanniang, this is "Journey to the West" written by Yizi."
Yang Chenglie's voice was a little choked, as if muttering to himself: "You have spent fifteen years to train Yizi from an ignorant child to adulthood, but I know nothing. You have been with Yizi for fifteen years. He has shown his talent now, much better than me... Look, this is the strange ambition he wrote after you left. If you have a spirit, just savor it.
Don't praise him too much, this brat is already very proud! If you praise him again, your tail may be raised to the sky."
The manuscript was swallowed by flames and turned into ashes.
Yang Shouwen held up an oil-paper umbrella in his hand and stood beside Yang Chenglie.
A gust of wind blew. Ashes were flying in the air, as if it were Yang Shouwen's mother, who had already received the manuscript.
Next to him, Zheng Jingsi showed a look of horror.
He heard what Yang Chenglie said. Yang Shouwen has the talent and knowledge of today. Could it be that the third sister was teaching it in the dark?
Since the Six Dynasties, people have firmly believed in ghosts and gods, and believe that the soul will never die after death.
Although the saint said that the son did not speak strange powers and confused the gods, it means that people are not qualified to talk about those things that cannot be understood, rather than completely erasing the sayings of ghosts and gods. Zheng Jingsi grew up reading the words of the saints. However, after being demoted, he believed in the Taoist art of gods and immortals.
His eyes looked a little different when he looked at Yang Shouwen!
If he had a little doubt about Yang Shouwen's talent before, it undoubtedly originated from his inheritance.
But now, the inheritance has been found!
Master Yang Shouwen spent fifteen years following his mother and his third sister educated him in the underworld.
Thinking about it, it seems that nothing strange! The third sister is very knowledgeable and talented, and it is reasonable to teach Wei Zi.
The manuscripts were swallowed by flames one by one, and the blue smoke curled up in front of the grave.
"Shizi, this is the situation, I write a poem, and I will also let your mother take the exam for your talents."
Yang Shouwen was stunned for a moment and looked around in a daze.
On Guangwu Mountain, peaches and apricots bloom, crimson and pink white, making Guangwu Mountain particularly charming in this hazy rain and fog.
However, I thought of my grandfather and my father in my mind.
He remembered his grandfather Gu Dao's kindness and acted righteously, but was wrongly accused of being an assassin.
My father was loyal to his duties, although he was not outstanding in talent, but he always worked diligently... However, after the Battle of Changping, there was no news.
He didn't care what official Yang Chenglie was, but he just complained about his father and grandfather in his heart.
In an instant, Yang Shouwen felt infinite grief and anger, and he couldn't help but call Yang Moli, then handed the oil-paper umbrella to Yang Rui, took out the pen and ink from the package, ground the ink, dipped it in full, and then picked up the pen on the white marble step in front of the tombstone, and wrote quickly.
Rumbled, and a faint thunder came from the horizon.
Zheng Jingsi couldn't help but feel curious, so she walked up with an umbrella and recited it gently.
"Peach and plum blossoms laugh during the Qingming Festival, and the wild fields and the deserted tombs only bring sorrow. Thunder shocks the heavens and the earth, dragons and snakes hibernate, and rain till the grass and trees in the suburbs are soft."
He turned his head and looked at Zheng Qian, but saw a look of surprise on Zheng Qian's face.
The first four lines of this poem are so consistent with the scenery in front of you.
If Yang Shouwen did it in advance, whether it was Zheng Jingsi or Zheng Qian, he would not believe it. He could only say that this was an impromptu work in response to the situation.
Zheng Jingsi whispered: "Yizi is quick to be wise and has extraordinary talent."
Zheng Qian recited the following poem in a tender voice: "People beg for sacrifice to my noble concubines and wives, and scholars are willing to burn unjust marquis to death! Who is the wise and foolish for thousands of years? They are all fluffy and have a hill."
Rumble, thunder kept coming.
Silver snakes danced in the dark clouds, and the rain became heavier.
The rain washed the handwriting on the white marble steps into ink marks and flowed down the stone steps.
The fire in front of the grave suddenly seemed to explode, ashes dancing wildly...
Zheng Jingsi and Zheng Qian looked at each other, and Yang Chenglie looked at Yang Shouwen in horror and said nothing.
The rain wet Yang Shouwen's bun and clothes, and a few strands of black hair were pressed on his face, highlighting a kind of unruly spirit.
Everyone stood quietly in front of the grave.
Chapter completed!