After listening to Fang Jun's warning, the official did not feel dissatisfied at all, and said respectfully: "Thank you, Mr. Marquis, for the advice. I'll save my time by taking a lower position."
Fang Jun hummed and ignored him. He looked at Fang Xuanling beside him and said, "Father, let's go over."
"Well."
Fang Xuanling responded and took a deep look at his son.
Once upon a time, this son made me worried. He was dull and clumsy when he was young, and he was not good at speaking and was dull-minded. He was afraid that he would not be able to settle down in the future, so he asked for a royal relative. In this way, the eldest son could inherit the title and establish a family, and the second son could also become the consort.
With the two elder brothers taking care of the younger brothers and sisters, the Fang family can maintain its prosperity.
Later, suddenly this dull and stupid son suddenly became enlightened...
Not only is his sharp tongue often making people feel uncomfortable, he is also bold and careful in doing things, and his many wild and unconstrained thoughts are amazing. However, he also gets into trouble everywhere because of it, and he often worries. No matter how high his official position is, how far can he go with this kind of temper?
However, now, this petty official of Jingzhao Mansion only expressed superficial respect for himself, the current prime minister, but he sincerely admired his son, as if he had become a foil...
There is no disappointment or dissatisfaction, only the joy of hoping that your son will succeed.
When the father and son rushed to the gate of Wei Mansion, they caught up with their filial son Wei Shuyu, dressed in white linen mourning clothes, standing on a wooden stool in front of the door, stringing a bunch of white linen paper on a long wooden pole.
It is erected on the left side next to the door.
This is called the New Year's Eve paper.
Hanging the New Year's Eve paper means the death of an elderly person in the family. The New Year's Eve paper is made of old white linen paper folded, cut end to end, and connected into a chain, about three inches wide and about two feet long. The number is according to
One picture for each age, one picture for the sky, one picture for the earth. Wei Zheng is sixty-one years old this year, so he cut sixty-three pictures...
After hanging up the New Year's Eve paper, Wei Shuyu got off the stool and saw the Fang family's father and son who had come to express their condolences, and hurriedly came forward to pay their respects.
Fang Xuanling sighed and said: "A good nephew doesn't need to be polite. I'm sorry and obey the changes."
Fang Jun didn't say much.
Wei Shuyu led the two of them through the gate and to the main hall where the mourning ceremony was held.
The atmosphere in the mourning hall was sad. All the men, women, and children of the Wei family were here, men on the left and women on the right, kneeling beside the mourning body. Wei Zheng, who had already put on his shroud, was parked on the door. Family members were not allowed to cry at this time. Fang Jun saw him
The coffin made of high-quality sandalwood presented to Wei Zheng has been placed beside the door. The family members will not be able to cry until the burial is completed.
Fang Jun sighed lightly, feeling a little heavy.
I was born again, I am used to seeing life and death, and I have a thorough understanding of life and death, but at this time, I still feel sad in my heart.
In any case, Wei Zheng's life can be said to be upright and upright, and he has been a model for officials throughout the ages. His reputation as a "human mirror" will last for generations to come, and he has become a model for all famous officials.
However, in the end, fame and achievements are just a piece of loess, decaying into sand and dirt over the years of history...
Fortunately, because of his appearance, Wei Zheng recovered all the manuscripts entrusted to Chu Suiliang and burned them before his death. Without this incident, His Majesty Li Er thought about Wei Zheng's achievements in admonitions over the years, and also in order to create a good impression on the world.
The positive image of "being open-minded and good at accepting advice" will definitely take more care of Wei Zheng's descendants.
I have already agreed to marry Princess Xincheng to Wei Shuyu, and I will definitely not regret it...
As long as they don't rebel when they are full, Wei Zheng's descendants will surely enjoy the shadow of their ancestors and rest with the country.
At this moment, the mourning hall has not yet been decorated, and the Fang family father and son were the first to come to express their condolences. Fang Xuanling bowed and saluted, and was invited by the elders of the Wei family to go to the side hall for a while. Before leaving, Fang Xuanling told Fang Jun: "You just stay here Here, help your brother Shuyu with the groceries."
Even if there was no one in the Wei family, how could Wei Shuyu ask the dignified Marquis Huating and the Minister of War to help with the funeral? The two did not have that kind of friendship. However, Fang Xuanling and fellow Wei Zheng were officials and had known each other for half their lives. Although they didn't move around much, their friendship was still there. There, this can be regarded as selling a favor to the Wei family.
Naturally, Wei Shuyu couldn't put it off, so he thanked him and said, "Thank you very much, uncle. Then I will have Lao Erlang."
Fang Xuanling patted Wei Shuyu on the shoulder and comforted him: "Why are you so polite? Brother Xuancheng and I have been close friends for many years. If I need help from my uncle in the future, just say it and never get separated. ."
Wei Shuyu was moved and said repeatedly: "My nephew, don't worry."
Fang Xuanling was then accompanied by the elders of the Wei family and went to sit in the side hall on the left.
How could Wei Shuyu let Fang Jun help with the funeral arrangements? He cupped his hands and said, "Erlang, go and sit aside. If something happens, I will inevitably trouble Erlang as a brother."
Just as he was talking, he heard someone in the hall on the other side say: "Erlang, come here!"
Fang Jun's voice was rough and full of energy. Who else could it be if it wasn't Cheng Yaojin?
After saying a few polite words to Wei Shuyu, he turned around and entered the side hall on the right.
There were not many people in the hall, and few of them knew each other. Cheng Yaojin was sitting behind a desk with a big horse and a golden sword. Next to him was a Taoist priest with a handsome face, dressed in a green sermon robe with an immortal style. He was holding a writing brush and raising his hand. He smiled at Fang Jun: "Erlang, long time no see. How are you?"
But it was Li Chunfeng...
Fang Jun bowed his hands in greeting and said politely: "Toefl, I'm still in good health."
Fang Jun has always been wary of Li Chunfeng, who is proficient in Yin and Yang magic and claims to be able to know five hundred years in advance and five hundred years in the future, and Yuan Tiangang, another "half-immortal" whose name he only heard but never met. .Fang Jun, who has been an atheist since he was a child, has already been shaken in his heart after experiencing such a bizarre plot that cannot be explained by science.
If someone were to "calculate" that he was a ghost resurrected from a dead body, other than being burned alive, there is really no other outcome he could think of.
"Half-immortal bodies" such as Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng can be said to be his natural enemies...
Cheng Yaojin didn't care whether he was half-immortal or not. He snatched the brush from Li Chunfeng's hand and waved his hand in disgust: "Get out of the way, you bastard. This nose is very ugly. Let Erlang write it."
Li Chunfeng was not angry at all. He was angry with Cheng Yaojin, a clumsy person. Did he think he had a long life? He even stood up and stood to the side of the desk in anticipation. He first poured water from a small kettle into the inkstone, and then picked up a piece of it. Ink, said: "Erlang's calligraphy is really beautiful, I have to help Erlang practice ink."
Fang Junqi asked: "What to write?"
Cheng Yaojin said: "Obituary."
Fang Jun was in a dilemma. Writing an obituary for Wei Zheng was not only not unlucky, but also a very honorable thing. There were so many officials and literati in the Manchu Dynasty, who had the qualifications to write an obituary for Wei Zheng?
But the problem is that he can’t write!
In the past, I only took a cursory glance at obituaries. Who would pay attention to their formatting and grammar?
Fang Jun said honestly: "Unless I don't want to, I really don't know how to write..."
Just as he was talking, Cheng Yaojin had already picked up a piece of white paper on the desk, which was covered with handwriting, and said: "This Niubi has been sitting here for a long time and will almost finish writing a draft. He is a professional. I'm sure you won't make a mistake, just copy it down."
Fang Jun stepped forward and saw that it was indeed the draft written by Li Chunfeng.
That's no problem. I don't plan to leave now anyway. There's nothing to talk about just sitting there. It would also be nice to write an obituary for Wei Zheng.
Dangjiang took the brush, dipped it in the ink polished by Li Chunfeng, and started writing.
"Wei Shuyu, an unfilial son, committed a serious sin and committed suicide. The misfortune has been extended to the future.
Wei Gongtao, the Prince of Zhengfu, was born in the second year of Xiangxiang in the Northern Zhou Dynasty. He died on August 13th in the fifteenth year of Zhenguan in the Tang Dynasty at the age of sixty-one.
The unfilial sons and grandsons are accompanying the attendants. They personally see the burial and are dressed according to the etiquette. They mourn this obituary.
Zishuyu, Shuyu, Shuwan, Shulin..."
The handwriting is round and elegant, written with one swipe, and the ink is dripping.
As early as Fang Jun was wiping away with paper and pen, relatives and friends of the Wei family sitting next to him gathered around him. After all, Fang Jun was well-known as a "talented scholar", and his "Fang style calligraphy" was closely related to calligraphy giants Yu Shinan and Ouyang. Xun Xun, Chu Suiliang, etc. are no less generous. It is a great honor to be able to see Fang Jun writing in person.
After all, this guy is very lazy, he rarely writes, and his calligraphy is almost unknown to the outside world...
Cheng Yaojin clicked his tongue and exclaimed: "Good calligraphy, good calligraphy!"
This man came to the world as a bandit, but he was by no means a vulgar warrior. His family had been officials for generations. His great-grandfather Cheng Xing served as the Sima of Yanzhou in the Northern Qi Dynasty, and his grandfather Cheng Zhe served as the Sima of Huangzhou as an official. His father once served as the Grand Zhongzheng of Jezhou in the Northern Qi Dynasty. A proper official of the fourth generation, not only had he read books, but he had also been educated at home and taught by famous teachers since he was a child. However, this man disliked literature and liked martial arts, and was brave and good at fighting. Therefore, the world did not know that his literary attainments were actually not low.
Naturally, everyone onlookers also praised him repeatedly.
It's not just flattery. As the saying goes, "Birds of a feather flock together, people of the same kind divide themselves into groups." If you can be related to the Wei family, how can you be an uneducated white man? Whether this handwriting is good or bad can be known at a glance...
Li Chunfeng also gave a few words of praise, but changed the subject and said: "Actually, I am even more amazed by Erlang's attainments in magic. He has actually reached the realm of studying heaven and man... Last year, he corresponded with his master and compiled the book written by Erlang. I gave a copy of "Mathematics" to my tutor. Later, my tutor wrote back and said that he was deeply shocked. He will probably return to Beijing before winter this year, and then he will go to his house to visit Erlang and discuss the art of mathematics."
His teacher is, of course, Yuan Tiangang.
When Fang Jun heard this, he was shocked. His hand shook, and a drop of ink fell from the tip of his sharp nose. It fell on the obituary he had just written and smeared into a ball...