After gradually calming down, Ning Que stared at the ink words on the paper in a daze, silently wondering who had left these words on the paper? Who was it that was answering his questions? Who was secretly helping him? Why did he do this?
He quietly turned his head to the east window. The female professor was still calmly writing regular script and did not notice him at all. Ning Que looked at the plain figure of the professor and thought of the extremely disrespectful explanation on the back of the paper. He subconsciously shook his head. It was impossible for such filthy words to be written by the female professor.
Could it be the teacher-in-charge of the old library downstairs? Ning Que frowned and thought about this question. Finally, he gently shook his head. Although the teacher-in-charge was humorous, he could see that he was a person who strictly abided by the rules. If he wanted to instruct Ning Que, he would have said it face to face instead of choosing to leave a letter.
After thinking about it, Ning Que still could not figure out who left the letter on the paper. He confusedly looked out of the window and listened to the chirping of the male insects in the depths of the woods and grass. Then he laughed at himself and thought that the person who left the letter was probably an old and dirty teacher-in-charge of the Academy. If Situ Yilan and others saw these words, they would definitely jump up in anger.
The words in the letter combined the way of reading books with the attitude towards women. Although it was obscene, it was extremely simple and easy to understand. Otherwise, Ning Que could not have realized that he might have learned something from it in such a short time. In his view, the person who left the letter deliberately used this method to enlighten him. As the saying goes, seek the way from the filth. He could not help but admire this person to the extreme. He silently thought that the person who left the letter must be a cultivation genius.
Since he was sure that the person who left the letter was a cultivation genius of the Academy, Ning Que naturally became more serious. He picked up the Primary Exploration of the Ocean of Qi and Mountain of Snow and that thin paper, walked to the end of the bookshelf and sat down on the floor warmly illuminated by the sunset. After holding his breath and calming himself down for a moment, he began to read the letter again.
Chen Pipi had obviously underestimated the poor Ning Que's comprehension ability. Even if he did not write the last two paragraphs and did not explain it with an extreme attitude towards women, Ning Que would still be able to understand the true meaning of what he wanted to express with the first few sentences about objective facts and understanding.
"Don't understand, don't think, just look at the text itself … Is this the original intention of the Divine Talisman Master of the Academy? What I need to do is to look at these words and not think about the meaning of these words. "
Ning Que looked at the thin book on his knees and thought silently for a long time. These days, he had been reading the books in the building at the expense of his spirit. He was very clear about the impact those words had on his spiritual world. Comparing the two, he increasingly felt that the method of reading books suggested by the writer was worth a try.
It was just that when you saw a word or phrase that you knew by heart, you had to not think about it. You had to pretend that you didn't know the meaning of the word or phrase. You didn't even have to pretend. You really wanted to forget the meaning of the word or phrase. No matter how you looked at it, it was extremely difficult.
There was a big locust tree outside the courtyard that accompanied you through your childhood and adolescence. When you saw this big locust tree today, you had to pretend that you had never seen it before. You had to pretend that you didn't know it was a big locust tree. You had to forget that it was the big locust tree that accompanied you for countless years and witnessed your naughtiness and even your first love and first kiss … Who could do that?
Ning Que did not open the thin book on his knees. He stared at the thin paper beside the book in a daze. His mind had drifted out of the window to somewhere else. He was thinking hard about how to forget the meaning of the words he saw.
"To forget all the words I know … How can I do that?"
The sunlight outside the west window shone on his frowning eyebrows, giving off a faint luster. Suddenly, the tip of his eyebrows slightly raised and a flash of light flashed in Ning Que's eyes. At this moment, he remembered the word he had written many years ago when he first came into contact with calligraphy. He remembered the word he had written countless times with a brush and a branch over the years.
The word "Yong".
For anyone who had received ordinary calligraphy training, the word "Yong" would always be the most familiar word to them. In the Eastern Jin Dynasty in that world, Mr. Wang Xizhi, the most vigorous calligrapher in history, thought that the Eight Strokes of Calligraphy of Yong was just like the Eight Skills of Regular Script. As the saying went, the point was the side, the horizontal was the restrain, the vertical was the crossbow, the hook was the leap, the lift was the tack, the skim was the sweep, the short skim was the peck, and the restrain was the chew. This was the famous Eight Skills of Calligraphy of Yong.
Ning Que's eyes became brighter and brighter. A word "Yong" could basically form any word in the world if it was broken apart and reassembled. Then if he used the Eight Skills of Calligraphy of Calligraphy of Yong to look at it again, would he be able to recognize all the words as the word "Yong"?
He was very clear that this was not a wise or even a smart method. It was just a stupid method, and no one knew whether this method could be used or not. However, he could not suppress his inner desire and impulse at this time. After taking a deep breath, he did not hesitate to open the first page of the Primary Exploration of Ocean of Qi and Mountain of Snow.
"Heaven and earth breathe, which is called breath …"
Ning Que stared at the word "Tian" at the beginning of the first sentence of the book. To be more precise, he did not see the whole word in his eyes, only the first stroke of the word "Tian", a flat horizontal line. It was as if a sharp knife had drawn in the dark spiritual world. With a hissing sound, a faint white light seeped out from the tiny gap.
Then, a second stroke of thick ink appeared in his eyes, followed by an indifferent long stroke, and finally a downward stroke. The full and complete word "Tian" on the page of the book appeared successively in his eyes and in his mind in this way of deconstruction. However, it could not form a complete meaning.
There was a word in his eyes, but he was only allowed to see the strokes, and was not allowed to assemble it in his mind. It sounded simple, but it was extremely difficult to do. It was definitely not something that ordinary people could do.
Fortunately, Ning Que had painstakingly practiced calligraphy for nearly 20 years, and disassembling words had already become a kind of instinct. However, calligraphers required that every stroke should be finished first, and then the framework should be reconstructed. Now, he had forcibly cut off the most important part in his mind. If his spiritual instinct required him to assemble those strokes, the word "Yong" in his mind would begin to play an important role, and he would interpret it as a part of the word "Yong" instead of a part of the word "Tian"!
Even for him, it was extremely difficult to treat the unreal as the real thing. At this time, he had concentrated all his spirit, and his hands holding the book were slightly trembling. The back of his school robe was already wet with sweat. His eyelashes kept blinking painfully, and his lips were tightly pressed together, as if he had licked the tip of a pen for the first time in his childhood.
This time, after the ink words in the book entered his eyes, they finally did not become blurred like countless times in the past, and then became blobs of ink, and then floated away from the paper and began to vibrate in his mind. Instead, they appeared extremely clearly and slowly in his field of vision, as quiet and tame as the leaves floating on the windless lake.
At this moment, Ning Que had completely forgotten how he had been tortured by these words. He just quietly looked at the strokes and the momentum of each stroke. It was as if he was looking at the surface of the lake under the breeze, and the leaves slowly drifting to the east and west, or drifting close to him.
There was no wind and waves, no rainstorm in Spring Breeze Pavilion, and no pack of wolves on the grassland. He slightly drooped his eyelids and sat cross-legged on the floor at the end of the bookshelf in the warm afternoon sunshine. His trembling hands no longer trembled, his tense body gradually relaxed, and his tightly pressed lips gradually relaxed. He did not faint, faint, or vomit, only calmness.
The rise and fall of the wind were always gentle and graceful. The insects in the depths of the woods outside the building once again began to sing cheerfully, celebrating this happy spring day, celebrating the appearance of a new and interesting world in front of him. The gentle spring wind wrapped these songs and floated into the window, rippling in the empty and quiet space of the old library. Occasionally, it fell on the lad, gently brushing his clothes. The front of his school robe slightly trembled, as if some invisible force was slowly flowing inside.
The traces on the front of the school robe did not flow smoothly and smoothly. Every time it reached a certain place on the chest and abdomen, it would quietly turn back, like the waves on the lake raised by the spring wind, pushing the leaves on the water to scatter around. Finally, it would touch the lakeside stone wall and silently turn back, unable to reach the shore or break the shore.
At this time, the female professor by the east window seemed to sense something and slightly frowned. She raised her face and quietly listened to the insects outside the window and the movement of the spring wind. Then she turned her head to look at the lad under the west window and smiled slightly.
"It's called Xi …"
When Ning Que saw the word "Xi", suddenly his mind was slightly distracted and his eyes subconsciously left the book. The whole word "Xi" came directly into his eyes with its complete structure. With a splash, a naughty shepherd boy threw a stone into the small lake. The water rippled slightly and the swaying leaves became chaotic. He only felt a buzz in his mind and suddenly became sober.
Although he had experienced it many times, the word "Xi" still brought a great shock to his spiritual world. He groaned and stretched out his right hand at lightning speed to support his body on the wooden floor. He forced himself to turn his head and did not dare to look at any of the words in the book. His face was extremely pale.
Even so, there was an irrepressible smile on his pale face at this time because he knew that he did see the door. Although it was not necessarily the door that the writer wanted to open for him, at least he did not faint after he opened the door. Moreover, he had a faint feeling that if he continued to read in this way, regardless of whether he could see the wonders of the cultivation world or not, it would be of great benefit to the art of calligraphy.
He did not rush to stand up, but continued to sit cross-legged under the sun. He closed his eyes and began to recall the previous feeling, trying to find the strokes in the depths of his mind and the leaves that dissipated on the surface of the lake.
After an unknown amount of time, he opened his eyes and smiled. Standing up, he walked to the table by the west window and picked up the brush and a new piece of paper. After a moment of contemplation, he began to write a reply to the person who had left the message.
In the reply, he first sincerely thanked the writer for his guidance, and then wrote his solution and doubts very frankly. He asked the writer to comment on whether it was feasible or not. Finally, he very solemnly asked for advice, "When reading the book and meditating, I seemed to see the movement of the leaves in the lake. Is that the original intention of the Divine Talisman Master's strokes? I saw that the traces of the leaves in the lake were scattered, but indistinctly followed a pattern. I seemed to feel it in the Ocean of Qi in my chest and abdomen … "
"Is that … Psyche Power?"
…
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