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Chapter 026

Everything in heaven and earth can be divided into categories.

This is true for music, chess, calligraphy and painting, as well as poetry and articles.

Jiannan Snowflake is famous all over the world, not because it is as white as snow, does not burn in fire, does not soak in floods, does not rot for thousands of years, and is immortal for thousands of years.

Rather, it can carry the weight of literary spirit, make literary thoughts flow, and enhance the quality of calligraphy and painting.

Feng Qingyan in the study was amazed at the snowflakes spread on the table. He was really shocked by the snowflakes. When he stared at the snowflakes, it seemed that in an instant, he was in a holy and flawless ice and snow, feeling The wisps of cool breath make people feel refreshed, and their hearts are clear and ethereal.

But in an instant, literary thoughts came to me like spring water.

I write like a god.

He thought for a while, and finally suppressed the idea of ​​writing, because what came to him were literary thoughts from his previous life. It seemed that in his previous life, in addition to building the underworld, he also read a lot of poems and articles, and read a lot of classics and history, but unfortunately he could not recall them all.

He shook his head, put away the snowflakes, and continued reading.

Early the next morning.

Feng Qingyan sent Mr. An a knife with snowflakes to thank him for his careful teaching over the past few days, saying it was a gift from the student to Mr. An.

Mr. An pondered for a moment and then accepted it with a smile.

Although snowflakes are expensive and hard to find, to Mr. An, they are no different from ordinary rice paper.

When he returned to the cabin to have breakfast and then come to morning class.

A majestic-looking old man in green clothes stood in front of the gate of the academy with a ruler. He had stopped several students who wanted to enter the academy and said, "The academy is a quiet place. Students who are not in the academy are not allowed to break into the gate without permission. Violators will be punished." responsibility."

Feng Qingyan was a little surprised when he heard this. The academy is not allowed to enter?

However, the thatched cottage had not been moved and was still in the academy, so he had to go in. Then, he suddenly remembered that this was the teacher who scolded the students yesterday afternoon...

"You guys, you don't know how to study hard, but you know how to travel around, drink and have fun. If you don't pass the exam, what does it matter if you read it or not? If you pass the exam, what does it matter if you read it or not?"

The majestic old man scolded.

Several students had no choice but to return with a bow.

"It should be noted that climbing the holy road is like sailing against the current. If you don't advance, you will retreat! You can take care of yourself." The voice of the majestic old man came again and fell on the ears of many students on the south bank of Lingshui River.

On the south bank, many houses have been built, ranging from simple bamboo huts to luxurious courtyard pavilions.

Although the academy will provide housing for students, students' servants are not allowed to enter the academy. Therefore, students' servants can only live outside the academy and take care of the students' daily life and food.

But most students live in luxurious residences outside for the sake of comfort.

"Students meet their teachers."

Feng Qingyan walked up and saluted, saying: "The student is a student in the morning hall, please allow the teacher to enter."

The majestic old man looked at Feng Qingyan in surprise. It was really surprising that such a worldly person could study in the morning hall. He nodded and said: "Although it is not too late to study in the morning hall now, it is not too late. If you study hard, you can catch up." ,go in."

"Thank you, sir."

Feng Qingyan said respectfully and walked in.

"Hey, how can Brother Feng go in?" A student from a distance said in surprise when he saw it.

"Brother Feng is studying Yayan with Master An in the morning hall. He is considered a student of the morning hall. It is not surprising that he can go in." A student explained, and then his eyes lit up, "Hey, if we also say that we are a student of the morning hall. , wouldn’t it be possible to go in?”

"You are trying to fool the teacher. Be careful, the teacher will find out." A student shook his head.

"We have entered the academy several times. Now, as the teacher said, we need to study hard and study hard. If we fail to pass..."

The student stopped talking and became silent.

The students also gradually became silent. Not everyone can enter the academy.



Afternoon.

A clear and cold sound of the piano came from the sea of ​​clouds with elegance.

Just like the cold current in the quiet space, the melody disappears and appears, as if you can see the top of the mountain, surrounded by clouds and mist, erratic...

It is as if the whole person is in the cold current under the sea of ​​clouds, which is immersive.

Many students were fascinated and amazed after hearing this.

"Chibai is born!"

A student accidentally looked up and saw white sound mist and red sound mist appearing in the sky. He couldn't help but be shocked and said: "Eighth-grade piano player!"

"Eighth fret player?"

When a student heard this, he quickly looked up and saw the red and white mist of sound.

At this time, many students were so excited that they did not expect to hear the performance of an eighth-grade qin player. They couldn't help but listen attentively, and their thoughts fluctuated with the sound of the qin.

Mountain stream cabin.

Feng Qingyan heard the cold sound of the piano and put down his book to listen.

He closed his eyes, and the world in the sound of the piano gradually appeared in his mind, and people couldn't help but be intoxicated by the music. But gradually, Feng Qingyan's hands began to tremble, making him unable to control it. In the end, he couldn't control it at all.

.

Hands, constantly shaking.

This is?

Feng Qingyan was shocked, what happened to his hand?

At this time, he clenched his fists with both hands and was able to control it, but he still felt a trembling feeling.

Meditate!

Meditate!

Feng Qingyan took a deep breath and gradually stabilized his hands. However, as long as the sound of the piano was still there, his hands could not stabilize.

The sound of the piano seems strange.

Feng Qingyan couldn't help but walk out of the wooden house, looked up at the sky and saw red and white sound mist, but he didn't know what it was.

South bank of Lingshui River.

Many students came out and wanted to find the whereabouts of the eighth-grade qin player.

"It must be nearby!" a student said firmly, then looked towards the mountain to the north, "Do you think the piano player will play on the mountain?"

"The sound of the harp comes from the sea of ​​clouds, but it is possible that the harp is played on the mountain."

"Let's go to the mountain and see if there is a chance to get to know this eighth-grade piano master. If we get to know him, he will be of great help to us in the future..."

"Go together and go together."

A student suggested it, and many students immediately agreed, and they all rode carriages up the mountain.

Buried on the east side of the mountain.

On the top of a pure white hill, there is sound mist filling the air.

A young man of eighteen or nineteen years old in white clothes was sitting cross-legged on a rock with a lyre on his knees. The cold and elegant sound of the piano came from the fingers of the young man in white clothes, and the sound disappeared into the sea of ​​clouds.

Beside the young man in white, two girls stood respectfully.

The girl looks like fourteen or fifteen years old, her eyebrows are like green feathers, her teeth are like shells, her muscles are like white snow, and her waist is like a girdled veil.

One song caresses everything.

The young man in white looked at the horizon for a while, then silently put away his piano and stood up.

He was carrying a lyre across his back.

"Sir, someone is coming down the mountain, can we leave?" the maid on the left asked softly.

"Is it worth seeing someone who doesn't have a good tune?" The young man in white said coldly, and left with his lyre on his back, "I hope Burial Mountain Academy will not let me down."

The two maids looked at each other and followed closely behind.

"Young Master, although Burial Mountain Academy is one of the eighty-one academies and gathers talents from all over the world, how many people in the world can compare to the Young Master's piano skills?"

A maid worshiped and said.

"ignorance."

The voice of the young man in white was still cold.




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