Nightfall Chapter 101: A message about the flute of heaven and earth

Chapter 101's message about the flute of heaven and earth

Ning Que didn’t know that he had once again passed by some great opportunity, and naturally didn’t know that he tore a piece of paper and cursive in the brothel, and was seen by a certain runemaster, and he did it. After the creation of the famous chicken soup post and Yan's woodcut rubbings in the future, he is still the unnamed young boss in Lin 47 Lane, the ordinary student who works hard in the college.

After waking up in the early morning of the second day, he frowned and drank the bowl of chicken soup that was not too hot, and then shouted to Sangsang who was going to clean the pot, looking at the black face of the little maid , Said very seriously: "I drank too much last night because I was too happy. I just came back and I was drunk without time to tell you."

Sangsang raised his small face, raised his thin eyebrows, and opened his bright eyes. He looked at him curiously and asked, "Master, what makes you happy like that? I really rarely see you drinking that way. Lots of wine."

"In the old school, I seem to have found a way to read those books."

Ning Que smiled and stretched out a finger, wiggling it in front of her little nose, and said: "Although it may be only a glimmer of hope, but after all, I still hope. I think if it is possible, I must hold it. ."

The so-called hope is just an occasional denial of despair. Because it is only occasional, it is always difficult to last for a long time. As a guy who has been tossed by fate for more than ten years, Ning Que knows better than anyone. The end of hope often turns into disappointment and then despair. The greater the hope, the deeper the final regrets and regrets.

Whether it was the cultivator in the mountains and wilds of the Yanjing, or the military inspector, the gentle elderly Lu Qingchen during the journey, until the recent selection of the surgical department when he was admitted to the college, he had endured the painful process of hope and disillusion. He became more and more calm and even numb, but even so, he didn't seem to care much about stepping into that magical world of practice, but he never gave up hope deep in his heart.

Because he knows that to live in this world, to live well, to complete his own revenge, to write his name in capitals on the fertile black soil of Datang, then he must enter that world , If you give up all hope, the ending will no longer be disappointment, but despair.

In order to grasp the faint hope, Ning Que adjusted his mental state to the most impassioned and sunny state again. Every morning, when the sky was dark, he took the car out of Chang'an City, and the night was extremely dark. Shicai drove back to Lane 47. In the morning, I was often sleepy when studying the six classics. After the third sound of the bell, the whole person jumped up a hundred times as if choked by Nandin Island tobacco, and rushed out of the bookstore. He rushed into the stove, chewed on a lunch for two people, walked around the lake for a few laps, and then went upstairs and back again, holding a scroll in hand.

He was basking in the sun under the west window and looking at the ink characters, using the Eight Methods of Yongzi to disassemble all the characters on the book into separate strokes, and then he carefully understood the direction of the strokes, deliberately forgetting the meaning.

The female professor is still quietly tracing the lower case of the hairpin by the east window. I don’t know when she unwrapped her hair bun, and she will shine the soft and short hair that has been past the ears against the growing spring light outside the window, which is extremely warm She was silent to the extreme, no matter how sincere Ning Que was in asking for advice, she would never give any guidance.

One afternoon a few days later, he finally flipped through the middle part of the "A Preliminary Exploration of the Qihai Snow Mountain", and the ink characters that came into his eyes were disassembled into thousands of strokes, and then re Being combined into thousands of different shapes and meaningless words forever, almost completely exhausted his mental and physical strength.

Ning Que rubbed his astringent eyes, silently turned his head and looked at the increasingly plump green trees outside the window, but no matter where the duckweed swayed in any direction, it would eventually touch the pool wall and slumped back.

Somewhere in the world, in a deep mountain, a celebrity visits a famous temple through the dense forest. He knocks on the wooden door of the small temple but learns that the great monk has already traveled around the world. The celebrity has to shake his head and step back, looking back at the forest break road, he is very sad. .

In Ning Que’s spiritual world at this moment, those extremely complicated strokes, those deconstructed into non-specific radicals, those horizontal and vertical ink dots, as he tried to meditate , Suddenly became vivid. The ink marks have more sharp metal edges, and become the terrifying knife array of the golden tent tribe of the barbarians on the grassland. A little bit of pen sharpness adds infinite dampness, and it becomes cold rain outside the spring wind pavilion. It begins to fall, and it is the knife that grabs the head. Countless, the rain is endless, and there is no end but endless conflicts.

Suddenly the whole world disappeared and the rain stopped. He suddenly opened his eyes and escaped from the state of sitting and meditating. He felt a violent dull pain in his chest. He couldn't help but cough with his head down, a slightly hoarse cough. Instantly tearing the silence of the old second floor, he hurriedly raised his sleeves to cover his lips, only to find that the blue sleeves were stained with scarlet blood.

"The Master once said that it is very boring to act forcefully. Your body is not suitable for spiritual practice. Although your perseverance is amazing, and you have even found a very interesting method, but...if you can't, don't insist."

I don't know when, the female professor has already walked to Ning Que's body, looked at him with gentle eyes and said softly.

Ning Que looked up and saw that this female professor was extremely small, with thin eyebrows and clear eyes, but he couldn’t tell how old he was. He knew that at the dangerous moment, she used some method to force him from Called out in meditation, he couldn't help but laughed at himself, stood up and wiped the blood stains from the corners of his lips, and bowed sincerely.

The female professor smiled and shook her head, beckoning him not to be so solemnly, after a slight nod, she walked into the depths of the bookshelf with a small block of hairpin script, and she didn't know where to get out of the old one.

Unconsciously, Ning Que spent a lot of time meditating. It was already dark outside the building. When the night was approaching, he did not rush to leave, but stood quietly under the west window and listened for a while. The cicadas screamed intermittently because of their strangeness, and then they walked to the book table and wrote a paragraph on the paper.

In the middle of the night, the symbols on the bookshelf at the depths of the old second floor lightened again, and then slid away silently to the sides, accompanied by the heavy breathing of babbling, Chen Pipi squeezed out extremely hard, the flesh of the fat face was shaking. Extremely funny.

After he left those words that night, he was always concerned about the progress of the other party, but because Ning Que took sick leave, he did not wait for a few days to hear back, and was even more curious when he was angry, but unfortunately , The second brother, who had caused him the most headache and fear these days, didn't know what was wrong in his mind, and suddenly mobilized the left-behind classmates to collectively study the ancient Yin ceremony sacrificial process. After repeated fatigue bombing, there was no time and energy to come over.

Finally today, I have free time. Chen Pipi didn't care about taking a bath and rest, so he hurried to the old one, just to see if that poor and hateful guy got any response.

Went to the bookshelf and drew out the thin book "A Preliminary Exploration of Qihai Snow Mountain". Chen Pipi raised his eyebrows and let out a soft puff. After looking at it for a while, he couldn't help but shook his head and exclaimed, "This The guy is really bold and ambitious. He actually came up with such a stupid way, and he can actually understand it?"

This was naturally Ning Que’s first reply. Then, he saw Ning Que’s latest message today. His thick lips couldn’t help becoming louder and louder, frowning and said in distress. : "I don't even understand this, but still want to play spiritual practice? I really don't know if you are a genius or an idiot!"

For a moment of silence, Chen Pipi sat down at the table beside the west window, and started to reply with Momo Runbi. In his second book exchange with Ning Que, this genius student from Xiling wrote: "Are you a kid? You don’t even understand such basic principles? Since you don’t know anything, then you’re ignorant. Naturally, you can’t resonate with the breath of heaven and earth. There is no other way to go. If you want to ask specific reasons, I’ll just I can make a metaphor for you. Our body is like a musical instrument. For example, it is a flute. The power of mind is to restore the breath of the flute. If there is flute and breath, it does not necessarily mean that you can play beautiful music, because the sound is It comes from the flute hole."

"If you don't even have holes on this flute, how do you blow it? The world can't hear your music, how can you sense it? You have so many incomprehensible snow-capped mountains and seas, how do you want to toss?"