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Chapter 53: Xuelang Monk, anxious for public good and righteous

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    Zhao Hao buried his head in the bed, no matter how Xuelang banged on the door and shouted outside, he refused to answer.

    It wasn¡¯t until Zhao Shouzheng came back in the middle of the night and tried to persuade Xuelang, who was shouting hoarse, out of the house.

    Xuelang was being carried out by the Gao family and his son, and he shouted to the west room:

    "Donor Zhao, this poor monk knows that you don't want to live up to your reputation. You are really the style of the Wei and Jin Dynasties! But for the sake of the Ming Dynasty's poetry circle, this poor monk will never allow you to be so low-key! I swear to make you famous, so that you will be famous all over Jinling. No, you will be famous all over."  The whole Ming Dynasty!"

    Zhao Hao burst into tears under the covers and sighed: "Monk, monk, do you think I don't want to be famous? I can only copy poems, but I can't compose them. In case one day I need to write poems, or give comments and corrections to someone.  , I won¡¯t reveal the secret right away?¡±

    He was not afraid of copying poems. What he was afraid of was that the poem would become a joke in the end, so he made up his mind that he would never admit that he had done itat least until he learned how to compose poems, he would never admit it.

    As for the future, if you really learn how to compose poetry, no one will recognize you as your grandson!

    After seeing off Xuelang, Zhao Shouzheng walked to the west door and apologized through the door: "This time I made a decision for my father and caused a lot of trouble for my son"

    Zhao Hao really didn¡¯t want to continue filling his ears with the magic sound, so he pretended to be asleep and snored.

    "Oh, look, this kid is so tired that he's starting to snore" Zhao Shouzheng shook his head sadly and tiptoed back to the house.

    ??~~

    Whenever night falls, the tower of the Great Baoen Temple standing next to the Rain Flower Terrace will shine brightly, emitting a precious light like colorful glass. It is so sacred in this night that it even covers up the bright moon in the sky.

    This nine-story, eight-sided glazed pagoda has two windows on each side, for a total of 144 windows. The window coverings are all made of extremely thin clam shells, which are called "Ming Wa".  Excellent light transmittance.

    There are one hundred monks on duty in the pagoda who take turns to light the oil lamps behind each window at dusk, then add oil, cut the core, and wipe the open tiles.  In order to ensure that the tower lights are bright every night, each oil lamp requires six taels of lamp oil per night, and the total amount of lamp oil consumed by the entire Glazed Pagoda every month is one thousand five hundred and thirty kilograms.

    Xuelang stood quietly outside his monastery, looking at the glazed pagoda that illuminated the night sky. After a long moment, he sighed: "Without this tower, the long night would be bleak. Without Donor Zhao, our Ming Dynasty poetry world would also be dark."  It¡¯s like a long night¡­¡±

    After being distracted for a while, he stepped into the monastery with the help of the little novice monk.

    The furnishings in the monastery look very simple.  There are only a few incense burners, a painting, a futon, a piano and a bookshelf.

    ¡°It¡¯s just that the five-foot-long table is carefully carved from agarwood.  Deep sea ambergris is burning in the furnace of Jinbo Mountain.  The pine-stone zither on the piano table was made by Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty.  The bookshelves and floors are all made of red sandalwood. The books on the shelves are all ancient Tang and Song Dynasty editions and Qin and Han bamboo slips.

    The only thing that seems a bit out of the ordinary is the "Picture of a Lady Playing the Flute" painted by Tang Yin on the wall.

    The painting is good, and the beauties playing the flute are pleasing to the eye, but this is a pure place of Buddhism

    Xuelang was very happy.

    Under the service of the young novice, he took off his cassock, sat on the futon, and sipped the Mingqian tea that had just been shipped from Longjing yesterday.

    "Publish these five poems together with "Die Lian Hua", find the best bookstore, use the best paper, and the best engraving, and I will spread it throughout Jinling within three days!"

    Xuelang put down the tea cup, took out the five poems from his sleeve and handed them to the little novice monk, and said with great regret: "It's a pity that the poem that seems to be "Mulan Ci Ling" only has one sentence, 'If life is only like the first meeting', I have no chance to read the whole poem.  , Donor Zhao is really cruel."

    As he spoke, his eyes suddenly lit up and he said, "Okay, let's use these seven words as the name of the collection of poems."

    "Is it 'if life is just like the first time we met'?" Xuelang's young novice also has considerable literary attainments. Hearing this, he said with a look of fascination: "The comparison is over. I can compare with my senior brother in just seven words."

    "Do I need you to remind me?" Xuelang glared at the little novice monk angrily and said sincerely: "Although the poor monk is very talented, how can the light of a firefly compete with the bright moon?"

    "Wow, senior brother has actually learned to be humble." The little novice monk said in surprise.

    "Don't talk too much." Xuelang knocked on his bald head and asked, "Have you figured out the situation of Donor Zhao and his son?"

    "I've figured it out." The young novice then handed over a pile of paper that he had just copied.  "Brother, please take a look."

    Xuelang drank tea with a relaxed expression while looking at the pieces of paper. Gradually, a look of solemnity appeared on his handsome and virginal face.

    After a long time, Xuelang slapped the stack of papers on several cases, and said with indignation: "The high thief, because of his own selfishness,The unparalleled genius has left me without a master in the poetry world of the Ming Dynasty!  He is truly a sinner through the ages, I must punish him!  "

    "Senior brother is angry again" the little novice monk said with a frown as he wiped away the tea spilled on the table.

    "I know, but what is unbearable?!" Xue Lang was still furious, standing up and pacing back and forth on the sandalwood floor: "I wonder why Donor Zhao is so low-key and unwilling to admit his own poems!  It turns out that I am afraid that if my reputation is too famous, I will incur retaliation from Gao Xinzheng!"

    After thinking for a moment, Xuelang said in a deep voice: "Please slow down this collection of poems for now, so as not to cause trouble to Donor Zhao."

    As he said this, he sat down in front of the table, rolled up the sleeves of the mid laner and said:

    "Yanmo, I want to write a letter to Leader Wang and ask him to uphold justice for my poetry world!"

    ??~~

    In the morning, when Zhao Hao got up, Zhao Shouzheng had disappeared.  Probably because he is afraid of meeting his son

    Zhao Hao secretly reflected on whether he had been a little harsh on his father recently, feeling that the parent-child relationship was a little tense.

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s mainly because Qiu Wei is anxious

    "However, this seems to be very detrimental to candidates' preparation for the exam. It seems that I should review it and try to give Zhao Shouzheng a relaxed preparation environment.

    After washing up, he originally planned to ask Old Man Gao to go to the breakfast stall.

    But suddenly I remembered that today was the day I had made an appointment with Tang Youde, so I didn't go out.

    Just as he was about to let Gao Wu go to the street to buy breakfast, he heard a knock on the door.

    "The door is not closed, just come in." Old Man Gao responded.

    I saw a girl in a green coarse cloth skirt and a wooden hairpin coming in carrying a heavy bamboo basket.

    Gao Wu hurriedly greeted him and took the bamboo basket.

    "Yeah, Qiaoqiao is here to deliver food again." Old Man Gao said with a smile: "Your brother went to jail with the master early in the morning, but he can't eat the food you sent."

    ¡°My father asked me to send it here, and it doesn¡¯t matter who he eats it with.¡± Qiaoqiao secretly made a face at Old Man Gao, threatening him not to talk nonsense.

    "Boss Fang is so polite." Zhao Hao greeted Qiaoqiao with a smile and said, "Miss Qiaoqiao, can we also use it together?"

    "I'm older than you, so I want to call you sister." Qiaoqiao emphasized seriously while putting out the steaming basket and soup bowl.

    "Heh" Zhao Hao ignored it, picked up a small porcelain bottle, poured some strange powder into the soup bowl, stirred it evenly, and then drank it in small sips.

    Seeing him eating soup very calmly and gracefully, Qiaoqiao somehow missed that poor boy who couldn't even afford steamed buns.

    "Is there a flower on my face?" Zhao Hao picked up a soup dumpling and looked at Qiaoqiao strangely.

    "No, I'm going back." Qiaoqiao blushed and turned around to leave.

    "There's no need to send it off tomorrow morning." Zhao Hao said behind her.

    Qiaoqiao¡¯s face turned pale.

    "I will go to your house to eat." Zhao Hao added.

    Qiaoqiao¡¯s face turned redder.

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