. Hearing the old man's words, Huaxiang did not refuse at all and walked towards the table where the pen, ink, paper and inkstone were placed. Seeing that Huaxiang was so natural and did not refuse, the Lord of the Valley and Qingxu looked a little disappointed. Yu Xiaoran just held her grandmother's hand and trembled, as if she was very angry. Only the old man smiled and nodded, obviously she liked Huaxiang's personality very much. Huaxiang knew that in the eyes of scholars, if someone gave you something, she would treat you as a close friend. If she refused according to the set in the cultivation world, it would only make people hate it.

Pen, ink, paper and ink, four treasures of study, and must-have for scholars. The four things placed on this table are what Huaxiang sees as soon as she comes in. Compared with the magnificent scrolls hanging on the wall, the four treasures of study on this table are all Huaxiang’s favorite things. Since childhood, Huaxiang has never come into contact with any good four treasures of study. Entering the world of cultivation, although Huaxiang has not abandoned his studies, he has almost no time to fiddle with pen and ink. Huaxiang sincerely likes the pen, ink, paper and ink on this table. Huaxiang knows that the pen, ink, paper and ink are all top-notch products, not only for the workmanship, but also because this was used by Zhong Daxian, a Confucian scholar. The righteousness and the bamboo artifact contained in it are enough to beautify the top spiritual tools in the world of cultivation.

Without any hesitation, Huaxiang stretched his hand straight to the inconspicuous pen on the inkstone. Seeing this, Yu Xiaoran and Ogu Master were relieved. Fortunately, Huaxiang did not take the scroll on the wall, while Qingxu sighed. Obviously, she felt that Huaxiang had chosen the wrong choice. Only the old man next to her had a twitching face, but she felt relieved after a moment. In the eyes of the old man, the pen selected by Huaxiang was the one that the old man was most reluctant to give it out, but even if he had a word, he could not be chased. The sword was given to the hero. Huaxiang's talent would not have buried this pen, so the old man was relieved.

"Why don't you choose the scroll on the wall?" Yu Xiaoran asked curiously, and the other two were the same. In their eyes, the artistic conception in this scroll is profound and profound, no less than a treasure. No matter how hard it is, Huaxiang will choose an inconspicuous pen. Although this stroke also contains the righteous spirit, its richness is, but its value is not as good as those scrolls.

While playing with the pen in his hand, Huaxiang said to the old man: "I will choose this pen."

"Haha, I want to ask you why you chose this pen." The old man smiled.

Yu Xiaoran stared at Huaxiang as if she was about to eat him. Huaxiang actually dared to ignore her, which made her heart angry. After calming down, Huaxiang said, "For scholars, what can't be displayed in one hand?"

Huaxiang looked at the old man with a deep expression on his face, feeling the confidence and expression in Huaxiang's eyes. The old man smiled and smiled happily. She seemed to be recalling the same words and the same smile. The old man knew that this pen was given to the right person.

"It seems to you that this pen can be used to make a wonderful use only if he has a good experience." The old man said in his heart.

Hearing Hua Xiang's words, Yu Xiaoran finally found an excuse and said, "You said that scholars can't show anything. Wouldn't it mean that the picture here is not worth mentioning? Since that's the case, please show us how talented you are."

Hearing this, Huaxiang smiled bitterly. It seemed that she had offended this girl last time, but her anger had not yet subsided. Moreover, she had hidden her name and obviously knew that she was doing something against her. Now she was doing it right now, while the old man looked at Huaxiang and smiled without saying anything. The meaning was very obvious, and she wanted Huaxiang to show it. Qingxu and the Lord of the Valley were a little unbelievable. They were not scholars, so they naturally did not understand the rules of scholars.

Huaxiang looked helpless and said, "Since that's the case, I'll be ugly. As the girl said, I'll draw a picture of landscapes."

As soon as these words were said, the old man was a little unhappy, but he just looked at Huaxiang without saying anything. Yu Xiaoran and the other two looked at Huaxiang, looking at you with a look of how you look ugly. The three of them didn't know Huaxiang's knowledge, so naturally they didn't believe that Huaxiang could draw a more imposing picture than this landscape picture.

It slowly stopped, and in one breath, Huaxiang fell into silence. Holding a pen in one hand, a bookish aura emerged from Huaxiang. At this time, Huaxiang seemed like a great scholar.

Feeling the bookish aura on Huaxiang's body, Qingxu and the other two were shocked, while the old man said in a daze: "The aura of books, books, and books is actually the aura of books to understand."

At this time, the old man could no longer hide his surprise. Only one person could master the energy of the book comprehension in history, that is, the saint of the Confucian Sect, Yu Haoran, the Tai Chi Sect's library. Geniuses of all generations could only follow the principles, but could not practice it. This is even more so in the Confucian Sect. Who is Yu Haoran? The old man knows very well that his close friend is Yu Haoran's disciple. She still remembers that close friend once said: "My biggest regret in my life is that I failed to understand the teacher's encyclopedia of the book comprehension."

But now it was revealed in Huaxiang, which surprised the old man. In the old man's heart, Huaxiang's status was raised again.

"I haven't started writing for a long time." Huaxiang said to herself and ignored the surprise of the people next to her. At this time, Huaxiang held the pen and looked like a scholar. Her thoughts slowly entered the pen. A shocking bamboo artistic conception spread throughout Huaxiang's mind. The pen in her hand was like a bamboo, standing in the wind and rain, tenacious, and rather breaking than bend. No matter how many difficulties, she could only move forward and move forward. At this time, Huaxiang was completely shrouded by this artistic conception. At this time, the four people outside looked at Huaxiang like a bamboo. The bamboo standing in the wind and rain, letting the wind and rain, I would rather break than bend.

Looking at Hua Xiang's figure, the old man's sealed memory began to open up. How similar this figure is to him, how familiar this artistic conception and breath are. Suddenly, the old man seemed to see him, with a confident smile, a rather unyielding bone marrow, and a tenacious personality.

With a moving thought, Huaxiang retreated from this artistic conception, Huaxiang accumulated more in my heart, and the whole breath returned to normal: "Dream cold, dreams are broken, people are cold, and a melancholy..."

Huaxiang sighed, as if he was the only one at this time, expressing his feelings with all his heart. With a flash of spiritual thoughts, the paper on the table was spread flat in the void. The inkstone was gently lit on the tip of the pen, and the strokes were drawn on it. An alternative breath surged out from Huaxiang. This breath was proud, all the flowers were blooming, I didn't bloom, proud, and bloomed in the winter night.

At this time, the fragrance of flowers is like a plum tree. The whole bamboo house seems to have entered the cold winter. The fragrance of flowers is the plum blossoms that are about to bloom in the vast snow. What we want to show the world is the unyielding will of the unyielding, the unyielding will and the unyielding beauty.

Huaxiang, who picked up the pen, was a great scholar. Huaxiang, who entered the scroll, was the plum blossoms blooming in the cold. This was the artistic conception of Huaxiang, the artistic conception that Huaxiang yearned for the most. Qingxu and Yu Xiaoran in the house were both trapped in this artistic conception, only the Master of the Valley and the Old Man did not. Just stared at Huaxiang's figure quietly. The old man realized that Huaxiang's understanding in the book had surpassed the one in his heart. When she looked at the Lord of the Valley, her heart couldn't help but move, and a feeling of guilt spread. He knew that the Lord of the Valley had not changed for tens of thousands of years, and from the moment he saw him, it had not changed yet. He was like this plum blossom, facing difficulties and unyielding will.

The fragrance of flowers has completely fallen into the landscape of the paper. One stroke of mountains is connected, flowing in the water, three strokes of ancient pines stand, and four strokes follow each other tightly... The whole landscape seems to be really alive, with the quiet sound of water and the towering mountains, overlooking the small charm of all mountains.

The brushwork is like a god, the dragon and the phoenix dance. Each stroke is like the finishing touch of the painting dragon. It seems to be missing, but it is just right. The whole person's body shape is constantly changing, as if it is dancing, which makes people respect it.

I don’t know when the Huaxiang stopped, but the last stroke was not drawn, but stopped. I smiled and Huaxiang stopped. This stroke was no longer necessary.

Everyone woke up. The only old man here who had a deep understanding of calligraphy and painting immediately said: "What a proud and magnificent landscape painting."

But the rest felt as if something was missing, but Yu Xiaoran said, "Why don't you draw the last stroke?"

Huaxiang smiled and said nothing, and the same was true for the elderly. Only the elderly can understand why Huaxiang was not painted.

Yu Xiaoran said, "Hurry, hurry, draw the last stroke."

Qingxu and the others also had anticipation expressions. Seeing this, Huaxiang shook their heads and said, "The things in this world cannot be perfect, and the same is true for the scroll. If you add the last stroke to make it perfect, then there is no need for it to exist."

Upon hearing this, Qingxu and Master Ogu both realized something. The old man looked at Huaxiang and nodded. Only Yu Xiaoran said aggrievedly: "Please, draw it on it, I want to see what perfection is."

Hua Xiang was helpless, and with a big stroke, the last stroke of the scroll was immediately spread out. Suddenly, the mountains and rivers in the entire scroll were connected, as if they were coming alive, the water flowed and the mountains were quiet, and the whole paper trembled, and the mountains and rivers seemed to be about to break through the picture.

"So beautiful..." Yu Xiaoran spit out two words, but Hua Xiang moved his divine thoughts, and a stream of light hit the scroll. Suddenly the entire scroll turned into a fire scroll and burned to ashes.

"You...you..." Seeing Hua Xiang burning a perfect scroll, Yu Xiaoran immediately said angrily: "Why are you like this?"

Hua Xiang smiled and said, "Hualong's finishing touch. I use the art of wonderful brushwork to combine the spirit of books to draw mountains and rivers. If I don't add the last stroke, I can leave it, but add the last stroke."

After hearing this, Yu Xiaoran felt as if she had realized something......

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Chapter completed!