Since the qi of heaven and earth collapsed, the saying of cultivating immortals and seeking Taoism suddenly became false.

The warriors used their own brute force to fight for power and profit, and created secular dynasties, only seeking to enjoy the glory and wealth of the world, to protect their descendants, and seeking for immortality. This has become a joke, and the world suddenly becomes a chaos.

After hundreds of years, hundreds of countries of all sizes have been added to the mainland, among which the Dongxuan Domain is the largest in the Shenwu Kingdom.

In the 637th year of Shenwu, in March of spring, Xiangshan City is a good time for mixed peanut trees, groups of orioles flying around, and green willows like smoke.

Xiangshan has a long history and the era of Yuanqi, a super sect, "Xiangshan Sect", was born, and its power radiates thousands of miles.

Although Xiangshan Sect is now destroyed, the name of Xiangshan City is still passed down. Shenwu established the country, so Xiangshan was appointed as the county city, with a lake called "Xianghu". The water waves connect to the sky, the scenery is beautiful, and tourists are constantly coming.

Inside Xiangcheng, there is Xianghe River, which is a major transportation route from south to north, so it is known as "the throat, river and sea, and the power is overwhelming hundreds of counties" and "water connects flowers and flowers, and land controls mountains and barbarians". Within a thousand miles, Xiangcheng is the best.

In the early morning, fog surged from the Xiang River, stacked layer by layer, extending in all directions.

On both sides of the Xiang River, thousands of households, white walls and green tiles, because of the fog, they were naturally touched with a warm feeling, making the Xiang City look softer and more beautiful.

To the south of the Xianghe River, there is a tall building made of all wooden, which is the famous Xianmo Tower all over the world.

At this moment, on the third floor of Xianmo Building, there were two old men who were getting up early, standing in front of a calligraphy and painting and enjoying it carefully.

The pages of this calligraphy and painting have turned yellow slightly, obviously a little old. The title on it is an ancient saying that is neither a poem nor a lyric. The brushwork is as bright as a bamboo, but it is just the meaning in the lyrics, but it is a bit difficult to understand.

"What a pity, what a pity..."

As he looked, suddenly, the old man on the left kept shaking his head and sighing.

"Why did Brother Xuexuan sigh like this?" The old man on the right asked in confusion when he heard this.

The old man on the left, Qingyi Boying, looked like a gentleman. He had a slightly tiny mane, about fifty or sixty years old, but his spirit was still extremely shabby.

I saw him carrying his hands behind his back, as if he had endless energy in his body. He heard what the old man on the right said, then he stretched out one hand, pointed to the calligraphy and painting hanging on the wall, and spoke:

"Brother Lanting looked at this book carefully: Things in the universe are your own affairs, and things in your own affairs are your own affairs. In just eighteen characters, they are so arrogant that they want to be on par with the sky, and regard the affairs of the world as their own affairs, and count their own affairs as their affairs."

"When Lu Jiuyuan wrote this couplet, he was only twelve or thirteen years old. Later, he made a big splash and gradually became a god-like figure on the land of our Shenwu Kingdom. Unfortunately, we have no chance to see the "Nine Yuan Heavenly Book" he wrote. It's a pity!"

The old man on the right, Lanting, couldn't help but sigh when he heard this, and said, "Yes, it was precisely because of the couplet written on this building four hundred years ago that this building has changed from the original "Zhengming Tower" to the "Xianmo Tower", which means that his couplets are written by immortals and are unparalleled, so he sighs that "one couplet is suppressed by nine lifetimes, and no one can compare with each other."

"For four hundred years, people from Xianmolou have come and gone, and many literati and scholars have left behind their treasures here, but unfortunately, there is no couplet. It is so powerful that it can compare to this cosmic couplet. The name of Lu Jiuyuan has also become a legend."

The old man on the left heard this and said, "So, life is full of wind and clouds. If you can't make any changes, you are still a hero? After a thousand years, will you have the names of you and me in the book of calligraphy?"

Upon hearing this, both of them couldn't help but feel silent. Obviously, the three words "Lu Jiuyuan" seemed to have a magical magic power, which made these two obviously respected and extraordinary old men, who could only recall, admire, and sigh.

After a long time, the old man on the right looked down at the surging river and said regretfully: "If you can see the 'Nine Abyss Book of Heaven' in this life, you will have no regrets even if you die."

The old man on the left comforted him, "Yes, there will be a chance. If someone can return to the past four hundred years, meet Jiuyuan Gong four hundred years ago, and get his personal listening, maybe a few words will be passed down, but they will be left in some place in Xiangcheng?"

"It's hard, it's hard..."

The old man on the right said three difficult words in total and said, "The long river of time is vast and magnificent, without any end. We are just a member of the vast beings in this world, a drop in the ocean. I just hope that people in the world will not forget Jiuyuan Gong, and can aspire to open up another era. And we can witness the arrival of this era, so we will die without regrets."

"Although I die, I have no regrets..."

The two old men sighed upstairs, sighing.

And under my feet, the surging rivers flowed eastward, and the water light reached the sky, just like yesterday.

But today's Xiang River is different from yesterday's Xiang River.

Because the one standing on Xianmo Tower is no longer the famous Jiuyuan Gong, but two unknown old men.

There is metabolism in the world, and the times have come and go.

...

At the same time, about half a street from Xianmo Tower, there is a small street called Qianshui Street.

Qianshui Street has existed for a long time. Among the thousands of streets and alleys in Xiangcheng, this small street is not big, but it is extremely famous.

Because this place is only hundreds of meters away from Xianghe, which is famous all over the world.

On Qianshui Street, there are many scholars and scholars coming and going, so this place has always been the manifestation of the literary spirit of Xiangcheng, with many strokes and calligraphy shops and literary shops.

Those scholars and scholars, nobles with literary ingenuity, will come here to appreciate calligraphy and paintings, grind calligraphy, and even collect elegant plays to spend time.

There is a small lane south of Qianshui Street. I have been brought in since I was a child, and there are many relatively dilapidated houses.

In one of the houses, a young scholar with disheveled hair suddenly stretched out and raised his head from the table of calligraphy and paintings.

Perhaps because he was too tired last night, he fell directly on the desk and fell asleep. So when he looked up, a large striking ink mark on his left face reminded him that he had painted until late at night.

He was ragged and covered in dust. No one knew his origin. He only knew that he was the only one when he came, and now he was still the same person. He had been here for more than seven or eight years.

Because there was a yellow sachet tied around his waist and the word "Yan" written in seal script on the sachet, it was the only precious and eye-catching thing on his body, so his neighbors called him "Chou Yansheng."

Chou Yansheng is only about thirty years old this year, but his face is covered in wind and frost, but he looks like an old man in his seventies and eighties, full of dusk energy.

After he arrived in this Xiangcheng, he rented this small house and spent his daily life writing poetry and paintings to entertain himself, and exchanged for strong wine. He often drank drunk and became disgusted, so his neighbors generally did not want to interact with him.

All the money he earned became alcohol, so most of the time, he was very down and out. He would only be more diligent when paying the monthly rent every month, otherwise he would be kicked out by the fat landlord.

Except for that time, he was mostly embarrassed, but he didn't care. He could wear a piece of clothing for four or five years and didn't change it. He was so hungry that he would go out to write letters and sell paintings for others.

Fortunately, he should have a noble background and his painting skills are very good. He has been well-educated by famous teachers. If he is lucky, he can get a favourite. If he sells a few paintings, the money he gets in exchange for will be enough for him to last for a while.

So over the years, although he had a very poor popularity, he won the name of a "drunk painter" by writing poetry and painting. He was famous in Xiangcheng, at least in the Qianshui Street area.

However, first of all, he has a weird temper and he doesn't do anything when he is not short of money; secondly, he is smelly of alcohol, and the smell on his body is even more disgusting. Except for the waiter in the tavern who charges money and gives him wine every month, basically no one is willing to come to his house.

Therefore, although he is famous, he will never be developed.

And his paintings are only circulated in a small area. If they do not enter the elegant hall, they will hardly have a great future as a pastime for some artful people.

However, the name of "Drunk Painter" at least made him a little easier when selling paintings, and no longer as no one cares about it as when he first came, and it was even worthless.

"Oh, it's time to pay the monthly payment again."

Looking out the window, Chou Yansheng's face was a little confused.

In fact, with his skills, if he was willing to paint with sincerity and make friends, he might have been able to buy a house in Xiangcheng long ago.

However, he seemed to have no such intention. He could not save money except for paying monthly money or drinking, so he could not save it at all. So he obviously made a lot of money, but he rented the most dilapidated and poorest alley and the worst shabby house.

Even so, it is the county town of Shenwu Kingdom, and every inch of land is valuable. A house like this costs eighty copper a month. In the entire Xiangcheng, such a monthly money is already the cheapest.

Therefore, every month, he is in the most embarrassing time.

I looked at the sun outside and found that it was a cloudy day. The sun had not yet come out, so the weather was very cool.

He carefully pulled out a drawer from under the table, and there was a small cloth bag in the drawer. Chou Yansheng reached out and touched it, and then a trace of bitterness appeared on his face.

Business seems to be difficult this month. After working hard for half a month, I only earned more than a hundred copper coins, but half of them were used as the cost of paper and ink this month, as well as the consumption of one or two buns a day, and I also had to buy wine to drink. The remaining ones were less than fifty copper.

It is only three or four days before the owner comes to collect the accounts at the end of the month.

In three or four days, I wanted to raise thirty copper houses, which was not worth mentioning for those rich and famous people, but for him, a poor painter, he had to earn a huge sum of thirty copper in three days, but he was really unsure.

"No matter what, if you can't pay the entire house at the end of the month, the fat landlord will come to drive people away again. Taking advantage of the weather today, you will take a few more volumes of calligraphy and paintings to sell to see if you can sell dozens of copper coins."

Thinking of this, Chou Yansheng first pushed open the door and came outside the house. He drew a bucket of water to clean his face from the well, washed the ink on his face, and then walked back to the room.

He came to a corner of the wall, picked up a few volumes of calligraphy and paintings he had made in the past few days, opened them and looked at them, picked up three volumes that he was more satisfied with, tied them with a red rope, and carried them on his back.

After hesitating for a moment, he picked up the bag, tied it around his waist, pulled the robe open and covered it, then opened the door again, walked out, and came straight to the shallow water street.

When he was not here, he dared not stay in the house. Although Qianshui Street is a place where scholars gather, this poor alley is not full of money. If money is left in the house, maybe when he comes back, a single child will disappear.

So whenever he wants to go out, he has to carry this money bag with him to ensure safety.

Fortunately, no one will steal these calligraphy and paintings. He is not a famous person. The calligraphy and paintings he made are not worth much money, and they have signed them. They can easily make people catch the handle.

So even the poorest and most miserable thieves on this street would not do such thankless things. I guess in their hearts, these bad paintings painted by ugly paintings are not as attractive as a bun.
Chapter completed!