There was a loud bang on the door of the Taoist temple, and Fang Sihai said, "I'm afraid the old Taoist is a little deaf, so let's break down the door and get in."
Fang Jun looked towards the top of the mountain and said, "It's still early. How about we go up to the top of the mountain and sit and admire the moon and watch the snow?"
The group of people climbed slowly again and reached a steep slope. The mountain path could no longer be discerned further up, and there was a cliff on one side of the mountain path. Fang Jun said: "We can't go up any more. It's too dangerous. We will definitely die if we slide down."
There were only trees and rocks here, and there were no pavilions or buildings to rest on. Everyone returned to the Taoist temple and asked the loud-voiced servant to shout: "Old Taoist, open the door. The young master of Mr. Fang's family has come here at night to enjoy the snow."
After shouting for a while, the old man finally opened the door and stared at the group of people dumbfounded.
Li Siwen said carelessly: "Old Taoist, if you have good wine and good meat, hurry up and bring it over."
The old Taoist rubbed his cloudy old eyes, looked at it carefully for a moment, and then said: "There are only some leftovers, no meat or wine."
Li Siwen shouted: "You are such a stingy old man. Tomorrow I will send a servant to give you money for sesame oil. Why can't you get a sip of wine?"
The old Taoist laughed and said: "There is no meat or wine in the small way of eating vegetarian food."
The eldest grandson Jiaqing interjected: "You are not a monk, how can you eat fast!"
Fang Jun stopped the two men from making trouble and said: "You two, don't make any noise. I will ask the servants to bring wine later. The journey is not far anyway. Let's enjoy the moon and snow first."
Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong sat side by side in front of the mountain gate of the Taoist temple. Fang Jun sat on the left side of Fang Xiuzhu, looking at the Xinfeng County town stretching at the foot of the mountain. Thousands of families were covered with snow, and the streets were all white.
The crisscrossing rivers outline the outline of the city.
There are several plum trees in front of the gate of Taoist Temple. They grow in disorder among the rocks and are uneven, but they are full of plum blossoms like snow, and there is a faint fragrance that hits your nostrils.
Fang Xiuzhu said: "Long'er, look, isn't this a natural ink painting? It's a pity that I don't know how to paint. Otherwise, if I could paint this scenery, it would be extremely beautiful."
Li Yulong bit his lip gently, his big eyes were a little blurry, as if he was full of thoughts, and did not reply.
Fang Jun looked up at the sky. The moon at the beginning of the twelfth lunar month was as crooked as a string. The night sky was cloudless behind the snow. The moon was bright and cold. The cold light spread on the ground. Moreover, because of the contrast between the mountains and the snow, the crescent moon in the sky was indifferent.
Lost color, as dim as white paper.
There is a bright moon on the sea, and the world is at this moment together.
This is not the sea, nor are I and my distant relatives under the same bright moon. What is separated in the middle is not the mountains and rivers, but the endless thousands of years of time...
"Leaving hatred is like grass in spring. The longer you travel, the farther you go..."
Fang Jun murmured silently, thinking of his parents and relatives who would never meet again in this life, his eyes filled with mist, and the ecstasy of longing stabbed his heart like a sharp awl, causing the heart-piercing pain...
…
"Second brother, this poem is so strange. Aren't most poems wordless or seven-character?"
It was a quiet snowy night, and although Fang Jun's voice was low, Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong could hear Fang Jun's murmur clearly.
Fang Jun completely let down his guard against these two little girls and showed no signs of wariness.
Hearing this, he smiled and said: "Poetry expresses aspirations, so how can there be a fixed specification? Besides, there are many four-character poems in the Book of Songs, and there were also many six-character poems before the Southern and Northern Dynasties."
Li Yulong's beautiful eyes blinked: "The two lines of the poem just now are very good, but I have never heard them before. Why don't Brother Fang read out the whole poem and listen to it?"
Fang Jun didn't care, and he didn't need to hide his "clumsy" in front of these two innocent little girls, so he softly chanted: "Don't come here in the middle of spring, my eyes are so tender and my heart is broken. The fallen plum blossoms are like snow, and they are still full after being brushed all over."
There is no news about the coming of wild geese, and it is hard to realize the dream of returning home after a long journey. Abandonment and hatred are just like spring grass, the farther you travel, the more you will live..."
This is a song "Qing Ping Le" written by Li Yu, the later master of the Southern Tang Dynasty, which means missing relatives far away in spring. The whole poem is full of emotions about the scenery, trying to express the chaotic feelings - the plum blossoms falling down the stairs are as chaotic as falling snow;
The body was brushed again and again, and the fallen flowers covered the whole body, expressing the deep feelings for the person in memory.
It fit Fang Jun's mood at this time, and he liked this poem very much before, so he chanted it casually.
Fang Xiuzhu looked confused: "I've never heard of it. Where did my second brother see it?"
Li Yulong once again looked toward the distance down the mountain with a resentful look, his whole body filled with a touch of sadness.
Before Fang Jun could answer, he heard someone behind him say: "This little brother is here to ask. Who wrote this poem? Has it ever been seen in books?"
Fang Jun turned around in surprise and saw a middle-aged Taoist priest standing in the snow behind him with his hands behind his back.
The hair is pulled into a high bun and fixed with a wooden hairpin inserted horizontally.
He was wearing a moon-white Taoist robe that was neat and simple. It was worn on his tall and thin body and swayed with the mountain wind, giving him a faint sense of ease as he was carried away by the wind. He was wearing cloud-head shoes.
He has slender eyebrows, bright eyes, straight bridge of nose, thin and slightly sunken cheeks, and three strands of black beard under his upper jaw, giving him a somewhat immortal demeanor.
With Fang Jun's experience, he could see that this Taoist priest was extraordinary, so he stood up and cupped his hands and said, "The Taoist priest is polite."
Fang Xiuzhu and Li Yulong also stood up, bowed slightly, saluted, and left together.
It is said that the social atmosphere at this time was open, and it was not inappropriate for a strange man and woman to be in the same room, but after all, the two women were ladies of the family, so they still needed to be reserved.
The Taoist priest bowed slightly to see him off, then returned the courtesy to Fang Jun and said, "That's so polite, little brother... I'm just a Taoist, but I don't know who wrote that poem just now?"
It's Li Yu... Of course you can't say that. The ruler of the country has not yet been born. Where can such a person exist?
Fang Jun joked: "I met a wandering monk by chance some time ago. I heard him chant casually and I remembered it."
"Wandering monk?"
The Taoist priest frowned slightly, quite surprised that a wandering monk could have such high literary attainments? Could it be some eminent monk who traveled around the world?
He never thought whether this poem was written by Fang Jun himself.
As Fang Jun himself said just now, poetry expresses aspirations and feelings. Without corresponding experience, it is difficult to express such sad and sorrowful emotions.
Fang Jun looked at the Taoist temple behind him and wondered: "Is it possible that the Taoist priest lives in this Taoist temple?"
In the memory of his inheritance and Fang Yiai, he had visited this dilapidated Taoist temple more than once. He only remembered that the abbot of the Taoist temple was an old Taoist priest who was old and frail, but he never remembered that there was such a person with such a refined temperament.
.
The Taoist priest said with a smile: "Exactly, I encountered some difficult problems recently, so I came here to stay and think quietly."
Fang Jun nodded and said: "This is a nice and well-designed place, but I'm sorry. I think it must have been me who arrived unexpectedly and disturbed the Taoist priest's Qingxiu?"
The Taoist priest smiled casually: "If the mind is not calm, even if you are alone in a shabby room, you will still be anxious and uneasy; if your mind is calm, even if you are in a busy city, you will still concentrate and gather energy, so why bother?"
This Taoist priest was not only calm and gentle in temperament, but also full of wisdom in his conversation, which made Fang Jun very fond of him.
Then he laughed and said: "What the Taoist said is wrong. The best way to be calm is to have a clear mind and few desires. Since the Taoist has desires in his heart, how can he be calm?"
The Taoist priest was stunned for a moment, thought about it carefully, and suddenly felt that what he said was reasonable. He bowed and said, "What I said is the most reasonable thing in the world... I have been taught by a poor Taoist. But Li Chunfeng, a poor Taoist, doesn't know about me?"
Fang Jun quickly returned the courtesy: "I don't dare to take my surname as my name. I am Chang'an Fang Jun..." He thought to himself that the ancients were so polite.
Eh?
"What did you say your name was?"
"The poor Taoist Li Chunfeng."
"Li Chunfeng..." Fang Jun was so frightened that he almost fell to the ground.