Chapter 100 Message on the Flute of Heaven and Earth

Ning Que didn't know that he had passed by a great opportunity again, so he naturally didn't know that he tore a book and a papyrus in the brothel, and then was seen by a certain talisman master, which made him famous in the future. The two famous posts of the chicken soup and Yan's woodcut rubbings were produced. Now he is still the nameless young boss in Linshiqi Lane, and the ordinary student who worked hard and made progress in the academy.

After sobering up in the morning the next morning, he frowned and drank the bowl of chicken soup that had been hot for a lot of time, and then called Sangsang, who was about to clean up the stove. He looked at the little maid's black face and was extremely serious. He said, "I drank too much last night because I was too happy. I just got drunk and didn't have time to tell you when I came back."

Sangsang raised his little 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 so much. "

"In the old bookstore of the academy, I seemed to have found a way to understand those books."

Ning Que smiled and stretched out a finger, shaking it constantly in front of her little nose, and said, "Although it may be just a glimmer of hope, after all, it is still hope. I think if possible, I must catch it."

The so-called hope is just an occasional denial of despair. Because it's only occasionally, it's always difficult to last. As a guy who has been playing with fate for more than ten years, Ning Que knows better than anyone else. The end of hope often turns into disappointment and despair. The greater the hope, the deeper the final regret and regret.

Whether it was the practitioner in the mountains and fields of Yanjing, the assessment official of the military department, the gentle old man Lu Qingchen during the journey, and the recent selection of the art department when the academy was admitted, he forbidden to suffer the painful process of hope and disillusionment, so he became more and more He became calmer and even numb, but even so, he seemed to no longer care about entering that magical world of practice, but he never gave up hope in his heart.

Because he knew that he wanted to live in this world, live well, to complete his revenge, to write his capitalized name on the fertile black soil of the Tang Dynasty, then he had to enter that world. Once all hope is given up, the ending will no longer be disappointment, but despair.

In order to seize the faint hope, Ning Que once again mediated his mental state to the most passionate and sunny state. He took a car out of Chang'an City before dawn every morning, and took a ride when the night was very dark every day. The car returned to Linyi Qixiang. In the morning, I was often sleepy when I studied the classics of Six Categories. After the third bell rang, I felt like I was choking with Nanding Island tobacco and jumped up a hundred times more. I rushed out of the bookstore and rushed into the stove. In the hall, chew carefully and swallowed the lunch for two people, surrounded the lake and took several walks, then climbed the stairs and climbed the stairs again, holding the book in his hand and refused to let go.

He was basking in the sun under the west window and looked at the ink words, using the Eight Methods of Yong's Words to disassemble all the words on the book into separate strokes, and then carefully understood the direction of the strokes and deliberately forgot the meaning of the meaning.

The female professor was still quietly painting small calligraphy by the east window. She untied her hair and reflected the soft short hair that passed through her ears, which was getting richer and thicker than the spring outside the window, and was extremely warm. She was extremely silent. No matter how sincere Ning Que's attitude of asking for advice was, she would never give any advice.

A few afternoons a few days later, he finally saw the middle part of the book "A First Exploration of Qihai and Snow Mountain", and the ink words that caught his eyes were disassembled into thousands of strokes, and then combined again into Thousands of different shapes and meanings of the word "Yong" almost completely exhausted his mental and physical strength.

Ning Que rubbed his stubborn eyes and turned his head silently to look at the increasingly thick green leaves outside the window. He knew that it would be meaningless to force himself to continue to look like this. Even if he continued to squeeze his last spiritual perseverance, he would only have more. Understanding the intentions of some talisman masters who copied books will not provide any help to enter the initial state.

What disappointed him the most was that on the piece of paper sandwiched between the thin book, there was no comment left by the mysterious teacher again, and there was not even a single word, as if the man had disappeared.

The cicada chirping that has troubled the students of the academy for thousands of years, and at some point in the afternoon, the twelve years of reincarnation began without warning. Ning Que quietly listened to the noisy cicada chirping outside the window. After listening for a long time, he suddenly turned around. Go over, close the thin book on your knees, and then close your eyes and start meditating.

The strokes in the book were interpreted by him using the eight methods of Yong's word to form the meaning of the strokes, and then he forcibly used the scattered mood to forget the meaning of the word. Therefore, although there are many, he can barely stay quietly in a corner of the spiritual world. Once you start meditating on these strokes, the complex strokes will become dangerous.

On the first day of reading the word "I forgot the meaning" and feeling the power of the chest and abdomen flowing without a way forward, Ning Que knew that it would be very dangerous if he forced meditation and urged his thoughts. So he never tried it again these days, just hoped that he would be in the world and in front of his eyes. , if he watched it exist like this, but gradually slipped away to the underworld and to the horizon, this was something he absolutely could not accept, so at this moment, he had to make another attempt.

He closed his eyes and sat cross-legged by the window, as if he had not moved for a long time. A slight hot spring breeze blows from outside the west window, blowing onto the thin blue robe on his body, ripples appearing, and those traces are on his chest and abdomen. The blue shirt outside slowly protrudes and then calms down on the surface, protrudes and calms again, as if it has a certain spirituality, and as if it is a wonderful life coming to life. Unfortunately, those traces are still unable to communicate with each other in the end. , isolated in a corner and unable to touch each other, spirituality is blocked, life has no foundation, and gradually declines.

In a small pond in the academy, the lake water was disturbed by the wind, and the slight ripples pushed several small round duckweeds on the surface and swayed around, but no matter where the duckweed swayed in any direction, it would eventually touch the wall of the pool. Back in dejection.

Somewhere in the deep mountains in the world, a famous scholar traveled through a dense forest to visit famous temples. He knocked on the wooden door of a small temple but learned that the great monk had already traveled all over the world. The famous scholar had to shake his head and retreat, looking back at the broken road in the forest, and was very disappointed.

In Ning Que's spiritual world at this moment, those complex strokes, those slightly oblique radicals that are decoded without specific meaning, and those lines and ink dots with horizontal, vertical and horizontal strokes, as he tried to meditate, he suddenly understood. Become vivid. The ink marks have more sharp metal edges, and they have become a terrifying knife array of the barbarians' golden tent tribe on the grassland. The pen tips have more endless wetness, and they have become a cold rain outside the spring breeze pavilion. They begin to fall, and the fall is a knife to chop people's head. Countless, the rainstorm falls into endless rain, and there is no end but endless conflicts.

Suddenly, the whole world's sword sank. He suddenly opened his eyes and escaped from his meditation state. He felt a severe depression and pain in his chest. He couldn't help but lower his head and cough. The slightly hoarse cough sound instantly torn apart. The quiet on the second floor of the old bookstore, he hurriedly raised his sleeves to cover his lips, but found some blood spots dyed on the green sleeves.

"The Master once said that being strong and doing is boring. Your body is not suitable for practicing. Although your perseverance is amazing, and you have even found some very interesting method, but... since it doesn't work, don't persist."

At some point, the female professor had already walked to Ning Que's face and looked at him with a gentle look and said softly.

Ning Que looked up and realized that the female professor was extremely small, with her eyebrows and eyes clear, and she couldn't tell how old she was. He knew that in the previous dangerous moment, she must have used some method to force him out of meditation. He came out, couldn't help but laugh at himself, stood up and wiped off the blood stains on the corners of his lips, and bowed sincerely.

The female professor smiled and shook her head, indicating that he didn't need to care so much. After nodding slightly, she walked deep into the bookshelf with a small regular script with her hairpin and walked out of the old bookstore from somewhere.

Before he knew it, 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 to the cicadas. Because of his unfamiliarity, he whispered a bit intermittently, and then walked to the desk, polished the ink and wrote a passage on the paper.

Late at night, the talisman on the bookshelf deep on the second floor of the old book building was brighter, and then it slid quietly to both sides. With the heavy gasps, Chen Pipi squeezed out with great difficulty, and the fat face was trembling extremely funny. .

After leaving those words that night, he was always concerned about what the other party had made. However, because Ning Que took sick leave, he had not waited for a few days to hear back. He was even more curious when he was angry. Unfortunately, these days The second senior brother, who was most worried about his headaches and fears, didn't know what was wrong with his brain, and suddenly mobilized his left-behind classmates to study the ancient Yin Li sacrifice process. Under the continuous fatigue bombardment, he had no time and energy at all.

Today, I finally had my spare time. Chen Pipi didn't care about taking a bath and resting, so he rushed to the old bookstore just to see if that pitiful and hateful guy had any response.

Walking to the bookshelf, pulling out the thin book "A First Discovery of Qihai and Snow Mountain". Chen Pipi raised her thick eyebrows and let out a whisper. After smacking her lips for a while, she couldn't help but shake her head and exclaimed: "This guy is really He was bold and insane, but he came up with such a stupid way, and he could really understand it? "

This was naturally Ning Que's first reply. Then, he saw Ning Que's latest comment today. His thick lips couldn't help but slap louder and frowned and said distressedly: "Lian" I don't understand this, but I still want to practice cultivation? I really don't know if you are a genius or an idiot!"

After a moment of silence, Chen Pipi sat at the table by the west window, grinding ink and pen began to reply. During his second book exchange with Ning Que, this genius student from Xiling wrote: "You are a Kid? Don't even understand such a basic principle? Since you don't know anything, it's not understandable. Naturally, you can't resonate with the breath of heaven and earth. There is no other way to go. If you want to ask for specific principles, I can only give it to you To make a metaphor, our body is like a musical instrument, for example, the flute, and the power of thought is to return the return breath in the flute. Having a flute and breath does not necessarily make a wonderful music, because the sound is from the flute hole. It was sent out during the period."

"If you don't even have a hole in this flute, then how do you blow? How can you sense it if the heaven and earth can't hear your music? You have so many tricks in your snow-capped mountains and seas, how do you want to make trouble?"

(The computer network of Austrian hotels is as unsatisfactory as that of the German hotels. I tried my best to write it out last night but couldn't post it. Fortunately, it was OK... Also: Dears, it's a long way back to China soon. Horror flight, if you can code it on the plane, you won't be interrupted tomorrow. If you can't code it on the plane, it will be terrible. I will confirm whether there is any update before 8 o'clock on the night of the 19th, and report it to everyone at that time. . )