"The age is only Ding Mao, and there is no shot in the law. The weather is cold and the nights are long, and the atmosphere is desolate."

"...I have been a human being for a long time, but I have been poor in luck. The baskets and ladles have been exhausted many times, and the grains and silk are old in winter. I am full of joy and go to the valley, and I have to pay my salary when I sing. The firewood gate is in the shade, and I am in the morning."

"...The outline has been destroyed, the emotion has faded away, there are no seals or trees, the sun and the moon have passed by. The reputation of the past is valuable, but the song of the future is more important. Life is really difficult, and death is like this. How sad!"

I often lean on the stone tablet and reflect on Mr. Wuliu's life, which included poverty, optimism, sorrow, and leisure.

In the face of everything in the past, he "has transformed into the present and has no regrets."

Facing the impending death, he asked to "bury him in the middle of the field to rest his soul."

When the God of Death grabbed his hand, he cast his last glance at his living self: "Life is really hard, how about death?"

Tao Yuanming was entangled and divided.

Half of Tao Yuanming was languishing in officialdom, thinking about leisurely wandering in the forest and springs, picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, and leisurely seeing the Nanshan Mountains.

Half of Tao Yuanming was enjoying the hardships of the countryside, but he was also full of ambition and longing for the world, and his thoughts were far away.

Half of Tao Yuanming struggled in the dirty mud.

Half of Tao Yuanming was released into the misty Peach Blossom Spring.

Life is really difficult, how about death?

Even for Tao Zi, life is really difficult.

It’s difficult, so I drink.

Wine is everywhere in Tao's poems, and there are twenty drinking poems.

Wine is Tao Yuanming's most trustworthy partner, a mirror that reflects all things in nature, and the glue that fills the gaps in time.

But he will not be intoxicated, because he does not use wine to reach the illusion, nor does he let wine stimulate emotions.

Tao Yuanming wrote about drinking when he was most sober and lonely.

As Rilke said: "Let the autumn wind blow across the fields. Let the last fruits grow plump and the last sweetness be brewed into strong wine. Whoever has no house now does not need to build it. Whoever is lonely now will be lonely forever."

"

…

It's hard to be free all the time, and it's rare to feel like crying without tears.

You should know that the rice paper should be kept dry and wet during ink rubbing. If you stop halfway and re-apply ink, the ink color will be slightly different.

Therefore, it is important to complete the monument in one go without stopping in the middle.

It took him two days to write four big characters. He didn't know how long he would have to finish these more than 300 characters.

The old man has no clock here, and Chang Xian's mobile phone has been turned off. Like an ancient man, he can only count the time by sunrise and sunset.

It took him three days to finish this stone tablet.

I spent a day and a half typing words, and a day and a half pouring out ink. I worked from morning till night every day, using up countless pieces of paper and ink, and my eyes hurt.

The old man was nowhere to be seen most of the time, and hardly spoke when he came over, leaving him alone to work.

I have been thinking very hard these past three days, as if I had run a marathon every day, and fell asleep.

Finally, Chang Xian gritted his teeth and peeled off the inscription from the stone tablet bit by bit and showed it to the old man.

The old man stroked it with his hands and nodded slightly: "You can start to formally learn stele rubbing."

When Chang Xian heard this, his vision went dark and he almost fell to his knees.

Xiao Man was so frightened that he howled and screamed, and while he was barking, he came over and rubbed Chang Xian's feet with his dog's head.

This bitch has more conscience than many people.

The next day, the old man pointed out another stone tablet to Chang Xian. It was the self-written epitaph of Xu Wei and Xu Wenchang.

"... When I was nine years old, I was able to learn the Qianlu calligraphy, but I abandoned it for more than ten years. I regretted my studies, and my ambitions were far-fetched and comprehensive. I studied classics and history from various schools. Although they were trivial and trivial, their ideas were extremely vain.

Every time I waste sleep or food, I read the pictures that fill the table. Therefore, I am now forty-five years old. I have been living in the academy for twenty-six years, I have eaten among twenty people for ten-three years, and I have been raised in the countryside for eight-and-a-half years.

If you don't sell one, others will laugh at it, but you won't do anything. Living in the back alleys, counting rafters, and hoarding bottles of millet for ten years..."

The calligraphy on this stele is vigorous and simple, like a halberd in a yamen. The bones are straight and straight, the thickness of the lines changes gradually, and the strokes have few twists and turns. When using the pen, there is a "silkworm head and swallow tail", and many seal characters are used. It is directly inherited from Yan Lugong's "Magu"

The writing style of "Xian Tan Ji".

Yuan Hongdao is a fan of Xu Wei. If you read Yuan Hongdao's "The Long Biography of Xu Wen", you will know the wonders of Xu Wei.

Throughout the Ming Dynasty, in terms of erudition and talent, there were three people who were the strongest, known as the "Three Talents of the Ming Dynasty".

One of them is Xu Wei.

Tang Bohu?

Don't be kidding, Brother Bohu is still not ranked.

Xu Wei left the deepest impression on us as a painter, and many famous painters in later generations loved him deeply.

Zheng Banqiao claimed to be his "lackey", Qi Baishi lamented, "I wish I could have been born three hundred years earlier to grind paper for him", and Huang Binhong praised "no one can match him in three hundred years".

He pioneered the Chinese freehand painting school and had a profound influence on the Bada Shanren, Shi Tao, Yangzhou Eight Eccentrics and even modern Chinese painting in later generations.

However, painting is Xu Wei’s least talented talent!

Xu Wei self-assessed: "My writing is first, my poetry is second, my writing is third, and my painting is fourth."

The skill he thought he was least capable of was one that was far beyond the reach of the painting masters of later generations.

In fact, Xu Wei's self-identification also missed the most important thing. His strongest skill is actually the art of war.

It was precisely because of his military skills that he helped Hu Zongxian establish the southeast of the Ding Dynasty, and taught Li Rusong to sweep away Japanese pirates in Korea.

He is talented in ghosts and gods, but has a bad fate.

Xu Wei attempted suicide nine times but failed.

At the age of fifty-three, Xu Wei gave up his Confucian crown and ended his career as a scholar. Xu Wei spent the first half of his life working for rice, and the second half of his life lived for himself.

When he lived in the countryside in his later years, his life was very difficult.

Although his paintings and calligraphy were already worth millions of dollars at that time, he still "sells paintings based on his character." Xu Wei no longer catered to people who came to visit him.

When he didn't want to see guests, he pressed the firewood door with his hand and let outsiders knock on the door anxiously, shouting inside: "Xu Wei is not here."

At the age of seventy-three, Xu Wei, who was poor and sick, passed away in his own shabby house.

Before he died, there was only a big yellow dog by his side, there were messy straws under him, and there was not even a mat on the bed.

"After half a lifetime, I have become an old man, and my independent study is whistling in the evening breeze.

The pearls under my pen have nowhere to sell, so I throw them away among the wild vines."

Just like this self-narrative poem, Xu Wei was trapped in difficulties for half his life, but his whole life was sonorous.

…

This monument is incredible. It is five feet high and the entire monument is densely packed. Just looking at it makes you dizzy for a while.

Chang Xian didn’t even have the courage to count how many words.

Fortunately, after training on the first two tablets, Chang Xian has become perfect with practice. All he needs is more patience and a more meticulous attitude.

From a certain perspective, this monument is no more difficult than Master Hongyi's four words.

This time, Mo Tuo was an unprecedented success. Chang Xian had never been so calm and concentrated on one thing.

Everything around him seemed to have nothing to do with him.

Chang Xian just stared at the monument in front of him and the words on it, they were everything to him.

In this world without clocks, he finished eating, finished eating, and couldn't remember how many days had passed.

It was another evening, and Chang Xian finally miraculously finished the stone tablet. The black and white hair was shiny, and the black and white were neat. It was a masterpiece.

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and handed the rubbings to the old man who was squatting by the stove making porridge.

The old man looked at it and finally uttered two words: "Not bad."

He casually placed the manuscript beside the pot, not far from the flames in the stove. He didn't care, but Chang Xian was so frightened that he quickly picked up the rubbings and carefully returned them to the desk.

Chang Xian squatted back next to the old man and watched him put firewood into the stove.

The old man said nothing and continued to tinker with the fire.
Chapter completed!