This is completely a waning old man. His face is full of age spots and wrinkles are crisscrossed. On his face, you can't feel any majesty. Even if you stare at him, you can't feel the pressure. But Luo Ziling knows that this old man
, a cough will frighten many people out of fear, and a stamp of his weak foot will make the whole land of China tremble.
One word from the old man can determine a person's fate or even life or death, and this person is not an ordinary person.
"Hello, great grandpa, I'm here to see you today. I wish you longevity and good fortune like the East China Sea." When Luo Ziling saw Ling Mingrui for the first time, he felt tremendous pressure. When he just walked to the door, he also felt
He felt very oppressed, and he knew that this feeling of oppression came from Ling Jinhua. But when he faced Ling Jinhua directly, this feeling of oppression disappeared.
He said a few polite words of blessing naturally, and after finishing speaking, he smiled at Ling Jinhua who was lying on the bed.
It was a strange feeling, even the pressure from Ling Mingrui disappeared.
Ling Jinhua had half-closed eyes. After hearing Luo Ziling's words, his eyes widened and he looked at Luo Ziling without blinking. After a while, he smiled and moved his eyes away from Luo Ziling.
On Ling Ruonan: "Nannan, your son is not bad."
Ling Ruonan, who was originally in a state of turmoil, became elated when he heard Ling Jinhua's words. He couldn't help laughing, but he still said modestly: "Grandpa, thank you. Ling'er has been the head of a small mountain village in the northwest.
I don’t know etiquette, and if I’m rude, please forgive me, grandpa, father, and third uncle, don’t worry about it.”
Ling Qirui and Ling Mingrui didn't say anything, but they took two steps back and gave up the space in front of the bed to Luo Ziling and Ling Ruonan.
Ling Jinhua's eyes fell back on Luo Ziling. He stopped smiling and asked Luo Ziling seriously: "Today is my ninetieth birthday. What gift did you bring?"
Luo Ziling quickly took out the gifts he had prepared from the bag and explained with a smile that these health medicines were picked or prepared by himself and his grandfather.
But Ling Jinhua was not satisfied, "This gift of yours is too cliché."
Luo Ziling looked at Ling Jinhua in astonishment, and then at Ling Ruonan who was equally surprised, and was a little unable to react.
Ling Jinhua just smiled, closed his eyes and rested.
Ling Ruonan seemed to understand something and whispered to Luo Ziling: "Ling'er, why don't you write some subtitles for my great-grandpa? My great-grandpa likes calligraphy very much."
When Luo Ziling heard this, he immediately understood the meaning. He smiled and said to Ling Jinhua: "Grandma, I will write a letter for you. If you are satisfied, keep it. If you are not satisfied, throw it into the wastebasket."
Ling Jinhua smiled slightly and said nothing else.
Luo Ziling breathed a sigh of relief and immediately walked to the desk on the side.
When he entered the door, Luo Ziling saw a large desk in the corner of the room with the Four Treasures of the Study on it. He also knew that the old man was a calligraphy enthusiast, otherwise he would not put these things in the room.
Ling Ruonan walked over and took a piece of rice paper for Luo Ziling, spread it on the table, and personally prepared ink and pen for him.
When mother and son were about to write, Ling Jinhua didn't say a word, and Ling Mingrui and Ling Qirui didn't say anything either.
After Luo Ziling dipped his pen in ink, he thought for a moment and then began to write quickly.
Don't listen to the sound of beating leaves in the forest,
Why not scream and walk slowly?
Bamboo sticks and mango shoes beat horses lightly,
Who is afraid?
I can live my whole life under the mist and rain.
The cool spring breeze blows away the drunkenness,
slightly cold,
The top of the mountain is shining slantingly, but it is welcoming.
Looking back at the bleak place,
go back,
There is neither wind or rain nor sunshine.
When Luo Ziling just wrote two sentences, Ling Mingrui and Ling Qirui, who were looking at him casually, showed surprise in their eyes, and walked over and stood beside him to watch.
Ling Ruonan had been standing beside Luo Ziling, watching carefully. After seeing Luo Ziling writing the sentence "Don't hear the sound of beating leaves in the forest" in cursive writing with a very free and unrestrained attitude, she couldn't help but feel surprised.
Keep it on your face.
Luo Ziling's writing posture is very chic, and more importantly, the words he writes are as free and easy as a dragon and a frightening phoenix, giving people the feeling of flowing clouds and flowing water.
While watching Luo Ziling write at a very fast speed, the pride on Ling Ruonan's face became stronger and stronger, and finally she couldn't help but smile.
After Luo Ziling finished writing Su Dongpo's famous poem "Ding Feng Bo", he also added his own words to the title.
After finishing writing, I threw away the pen, took two steps back, and looked at my work with satisfaction.
"Good calligraphy," Ling Qirui, who was watching from the side, couldn't help but praise: "You have the level of a master."
"The calligraphy is good," Ling Mingrui also praised, but had no other words.
"Bring it here and let me take a look," Ling Jinhua, who was lying on the bed and coughing softly, ordered softly after hearing that his son and nephew praised it.
"Yes, great-grandpa."
"Yes, Grandpa!"
Luo Ziling and Ling Ruonan almost agreed.
The mother and son each took the two corners of the rice paper, and together they walked to the bedside holding the words with the ink not yet completely dry.
Ling Mingrui and Ling Qirui took the lead, helped the old man up, and stuffed a pillow behind Ling Jinhua to let him sit up.
After seeing the words written by Luo Ziling, Ling Jinhua's eyes actually shone a little, and he stretched out his slightly trembling hand, motioning for Luo Ziling and Ling Ruonan to get closer, and asked Ling Qirui to bring his reading glasses.
After putting on his reading glasses, Ling Jinhua carefully read the words written by Luo Ziling for a while, and then recited them softly.
"Good calligraphy, good words." After reading it carefully twice, Ling Jinhua couldn't help but smile. "The calligraphy is good, with Wang Youjun's style. The words written by Mr. Dongpo are quite suitable for describing your life... Look
It seems that you two, grandfather and grandson, have always been very optimistic."
Hearing Ling Jinhua praise Luo Ziling in front of so many people, Ling Ruonan was completely relieved, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she glanced at Luo Ziling and let him speak for himself.
Luo Ziling replied in a neither humble nor arrogant manner: "Grandpa, my calligraphy was taught by my grandfather. My grandfather is good at running script and his regular script is also good. I have practiced it for so many years, but I am still not as good as my grandfather. My grandfather and I often write this poem and we like it very much."
The artistic conception in this word.”
"It seems that Old Man Luo is still so crazy," Ling Jinhua laughed and joked, then asked Luo Ziling: "What kind of regular script are you practicing?"
Hearing Ling Jinhua ask this question, Ling Qirui and Ling Mingrui looked at each other, and they both saw something strange in each other's eyes.
Ling Ruonan's son seems to make the old man very happy, otherwise he wouldn't ask such questions as soon as they meet him.
Although this is a small problem, this kind of small problem can best reflect the old man's preferences.