world class art fanatic

Zhong Ying'an lived in Zaining's mansion with peace of mind, without asking about his cell phone or Ning Mingzhi.

Learn tea ceremony, self-cultivation.

Wearing a pitch-black sportswear, he sat upright in the tea room, kneeling like a pine, listening to the serious teaching of the tea ceremony teacher.

"The tea ceremony pays attention to 'harmony, respect, purity, and silence', and the movements have established norms."

Every movement of the teacher has a dance-like elegance. Whether it is lighting a charcoal fire or pouring matcha, it is what he said is peaceful and respectful, which makes people feel leisurely and soothing, and has the unique seriousness and strictness of Japanese tea ceremony.

Zhong Ying reads slowly, learns slowly, and is not in a hurry at all.

Yuan Shan beside him patiently helped him with the translation. When Zhong Ying took over the teacher's tea bowl, he pointed out with his bare hands: "You need to turn the tea bowl so that the pattern on the tea bowl is aligned with the owner."

The Japanese tea ceremony is indeed far from the domestic tea culture.

Zhong Ying's kneeling posture standard, under the guidance of two professional teachers, rigidly followed the "four rules and seven rules" created by the Japanese influenced by Chinese tea culture.

He continued to comprehend "harmony, respect and tranquility", and listened to the tea ceremony teacher explain the tea ceremony rules such as keeping promises in advance and preparing rain gear.

Rather than saying that he is tasting and learning tea, it is better to say that he has nothing to do, calmly learning a cautious and humble way of removing the turbid and promoting the clear.

Experience the long-awaited Japanese tea culture.

In the quiet and narrow tea room, the dull sound of wheelchairs rolling down the wooden corridor can be heard slowly.

The conscientious tea ceremony teacher turned his eyes and said happily: "Master Zaining is here? It's just right, Mr. Zhong can ask the master to comment."

Ning Mingzhi moved into the tea room from his heart.

Everyone knelt and sat on the stacked mats, but Ning Mingzhi was the only one who was condescending with his wheelchair.

Zhong Ying is patiently making matcha tea, and a bowl of green foam has been stirred out with a bamboo teaspoon, which can be enjoyed by guests after sitting for a while.

Yuan Shan translated the words of the tea ceremony teacher, and greeted his master softly.

"Master, Mr. Zhong is a fast learner. This is his first time learning, and he has fully understood the essence of tea tasting and serving tea."

After finishing speaking, both he and the tea ceremony teacher looked forward to Zhong Ying being able to present the first bowl of tea to the respected Master Zaining.

However, Zhong Ying stopped, turned the tea bowl patiently and meticulously, and drank it by himself without even looking at Ning Mingzhi.

Yuan Shan was dumbfounded, and the tea ceremony teacher was even more astonished.

"Mr. Zhong!" They cried out in surprise, but it was too late to stop them.

The atmosphere fell into embarrassment, and he didn't give Master Zaining face very much.

Ke Zhong should not care.

"Good tea." He drank the matcha tea by himself without rules.

Putting down the tea bowl, he politely finished the final ceremony of paying tribute, then stood up, and looked down at Ning Mingzhi condescendingly.

I haven't seen him for two days, and Ning Mingzhi is getting old again.

As if suffering from a sleepless night.

Zhong Ying greeted with a smile: "Ning Mingzhi, did you sleep well?"

Seeing Zhong Ying's arrogance, Ning Mingzhi remained calm and asked, "How about the Japanese tea ceremony?"

"Tea was introduced to Japan from the Tang Dynasty. Compared with today's Chinese and Japanese tea ceremonies, there is indeed a big gap. While paying attention to peace and tranquility, at the same time, it is necessary to consider the warmth of winter and coolness of summer. It is quiet and quiet, and the rules are cumbersome. It does not seem like tea tasting. "

Zhong Ying didn't mind chatting with him about his feelings, and said calmly: "However, compared to the 'four rules and seven rules' of the matcha ceremony, I am more curious about the free and loose Sencha ceremony that the teacher said. After all, tea is made with It’s for drinking, not for offering, and the Japanese “Tea Zen Yiwei” is more like a ritual of domestication and obedience, and I prefer the ease and freedom of drinking tea.”

He looked down at Ning Mingzhi and smiled.

"I think you must like this kind of Japanese-style domestication and obedience very much. It happens that someone can be your master and teach you the rules, words and deeds."

Zhong Ying's rude words made Yuan Shan and Zhi Xin pale and angry.

They stared at Zhong Ying and Ning Mingzhi closely, as if the master gave an order, and they could gather together to condemn this arrogant young man!

However, after Ning Mingzhi listened, he just said aloud: "Yuanshan, take Mr. out."

As soon as he exhorted, Yuan Shan suppressed his anger and asked the tea ceremony teacher to stay away from the center of the storm.

In the narrow tea room, there were only three people facing each other silently, but Zhong Ying kept his eyes on the dying old man.

"Ning Mingzhi, I know you want to hear me play the piano."

He folded his arms, and his attitude and tone showed no respect at all.

"But the seven strings you put in my room are made of paulownia wood, and the strings are raw. At least one or two years have not been played. No matter how good the piano is, it will lose its original value if it is left for a long time. I am not picky or picky. can play such a harp."

Between the lines, he disliked that the seven strings in the room were not good enough.

Before Ning Mingzhi could speak, Zhixin reminded in a low voice: "You haven't even played the qin, so why do you say that the qin is not good?!"

Zhong Ying raised his eyes to look at him, and this sentence let Zhong Ying know that the monitor of Yilang Pavilion was turning.

More than one person saw him sitting silently in the room without raising his hand to beat the strings.

However, he remained calm and smiled.

"Because the strings of the qin have collapsed and bent the mountains and dragon's gums, the neck and waist of the qin body are rough, and the cutting technique is rough and wild. If this is a pioneering and innovative work by a master, I can still boast a few words of new ideas and ideas. If it is an imitation of Tang's guqin, I can only say that the person who made it just copied the gourd and made a ostentatious lyre."

"This kind of violin..."

Zhong Ying sneered, and looked at Ning Mingzhi contemptuously, "Did you put it in the room on purpose to obstruct my eyes?"

Ning Mingzhi was kind and gentle, "You know a lot."

Zhong Ying replied: "My grandfather is a violinist, and he taught me everything I know."

"Xuewen never told me that he knows so much."

Ning Mingzhi originally wanted to praise Zhong Ying, saying that blue is better than blue.

But I didn't expect Zhong Ying to be ungrateful, and said directly:

"Because our qin masters never play the qin to the cows, it's a waste of effort."

Ning Mingzhi has experienced Zhong Ying's confrontation for a long time.

I have also learned to look carefully at this grandnephew's grandson,

"Yes." Ning Mingzhi actually smiled.

"If you want to find a bosom friend, you really have to play the piano for someone who understands the piano."

After he finished speaking, he asked Zhixin to push him away without leaving a single word of instructions.

Yuan Shan sent the tea ceremony teacher back, and Zhong Ying patiently followed the rules of the matcha ceremony and stirred another bowl of bitter tea.

"Please use."

He respectfully handed it to Yuan Shan.

Yuan Shan was angry because of Zhong Ying's rude words just now, but now he is flattered by his politeness and respect.

The young disciple took the tea bowl upright, followed the rule of turning the tea bowl three times, sipping lightly, and drinking slowly, and slowly drank the bitterness from the bowl.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Yuan Shan returned the tea bowl politely, his clear eyes revealing a daze.

He was curious about Zhong Ying's youth and intelligence, and also curious about Zhong Ying's hatred and resentment towards his master.

Zaining Wenzhi is a master he has admired since he can remember. Being able to rely on his musical talent to worship under Zaining's sect and learn the traditional culture of China and Japan is something Yuanshan is proud of in his life.

He doesn't understand, he doesn't understand.

After only two days together, Zhong Ying treated them with a gentle and polite attitude, and was easier to serve than any other guest.

but……

Zhong Ying lowered his eyes to pack the tea set, and suddenly heard Yuan Shan whisper:

"Master is a very good old man, why don't you try to communicate with him calmly?"

Zhong Ying picked up the teapot, and the charcoal fire below was blazing.

He clearly understands the longing of Ning Mingzhi's disciples for Ning Mingzhi, and he understands how a master who "inherits and protects Japanese music culture" can be mythologized by others.

Zhong Ying was unable to communicate peacefully with Ning Mingzhi.

When he saw Ning Mingzhi's old and long-lived body, and heard his despicable sophistry, he would think of many, many people.

"Because every day he lived, he stepped on the backbone of the dead."

Zhong Ying's voice was cold, and his dark eyes stared at the pure distant mountains, "Do you know that the Japanese went to China and killed millions of innocent people?"

Yuan Shan's face was pale, and he said weakly, "I know."

Zai Ningzi often went to and from the mansion, and these apprentices who accompanied Zai Ning Wenzhi every day naturally knew the history better than outsiders.

Zhong Ying saw that he was sluggish, helplessly hooked the corners of his mouth, and sighed:

"The Japanese killed strangers who had nothing to do with them. But Ning Mingzhi killed his close relatives and close friends—"

He raised his hand and poured water on the charcoal fire, and there was a pricking sound, and the gray smoke filled the air.

"He is more vicious than the Japanese executioner, is he worthy to be your master?"

Beneath Yuan Shan's rigid mechanical appearance, there is a lively and joyful heart.

It's a pity that this heart is like a coal fire that Zhong Ying has extinguished, sickly, accompanied by Zhong Ying who has been silently returning to the room, saying goodbye.

Zhong Ying closed the door, and was satisfied to see that the piano table in Yilang Pavilion was empty, only the smoke from the burning incense burner was left.

Ning Mingzhi took back the lyre that had not been played for a long time.

At night, Zhong Ying nestled behind the curtain, staring at the top of the bed thinking about life, but heard a polite knock on the door.

"Mr. Zhong, are you asleep?"

It was Yuan Shan who asked him, but Yuan Shan did not come alone.

Just as Zhong Ying opened the door, Zhixin, the apprentice who was guarding Ning Mingzhi, walked in with a unique guqin in his arms.

The qin has a thin neck and a narrow box, with thirteen silver strings shining coldly, the wood paint of the qin body is dark red, with light blue tassels hanging, swaggering with the pace of Zhixin.

"This is Yilanqin."

Zhixin simply introduced, "Master said, you should understand it better than anyone else."

Zhong Ying looked at the piano that should have been unfamiliar, but he was very familiar with it.

This is the thirteen-string building of the Yiyin Yashe, and it is also the lost musical instrument that Shen Ling placed high hopes on.

He remembered that Shen Ling and Zhuqin met for the first time, and they were very happy. He wrote: Zhuqin is struck with bamboo, and the sound is sad and deep, which should be a sad song.

He also remembered that when Shen Ling and Ning Mingzhi met for the first time, they were overjoyed and wrote: Zhiyuan is talented and smart, and he studied in Japan and is proficient in music theory. It is perfect for him to study and build pianos.

Zhixin placed the Zhuqin on the table, and the supporting bamboo ruler was light in color.

Zhong Ying involuntarily picked up the thin qin bamboo, hung his wrist in the air, and said softly: "This qin is no longer called Yilan."

Zhixin and Yuanshan didn't know, so they stood quietly by the side, not daring to ask.

Because, before coming here, the master has given serious instructions.

He will watch everything in front of the surveillance, and he must hear the music of Zhong Ying Fuxian and Zhu!

But Zhong Ying picked up the bamboo ruler, not in a hurry.

He evoked a slight smile, and carefully looked at this Zhuqin that had been away from his homeland for many years.

"This is the thirteen-string building given to Ning Mingzhi 80 years ago by Mr. Shen Ling and Shen Jingdu."

"It was imitated by the qin masters of the Tang Dynasty. The paint color of the qin body is stable, and the tone is sad. It can be used as an elegy."

"At that time, Mr. Shen and Ning Mingzhi had a close friendship, and the friendship lasted forever, so they named it Yilan. I hope that Ning Mingzhi can hit the stage and play "Yilan Cao"."

"later……"

Zhong Ying Zhichi said with a soft smile: "Mr. Shen was very disappointed with the ungrateful person, so he gave this piece of piano a new expectation and a new name in his suicide note."

"So, it is no longer called Yilan."

As he said that, Zhong Ying raised his wrist lightly, and struck with a little force, the bamboo ruler was in the soundless air, barely a centimeter away from the strings, and just suspended above the strings he wanted to strike.

Zhong Ying didn't stop, relying on his familiarity with Zhuqin, he struck the strings with a ruler lightly and smoothly, staying on the thirteen strings repeatedly with incomparable accuracy.

Yi Lange's silent performance startled Yuan Shan and Zhi Xin.

They looked at each other, staring at Zhong Ying's every movement, every strike, completely unable to understand such a peculiar performance art.

However, Zhong Ying was extremely satisfied.

There are thousands of rhythms in his heart, thousands of voices left behind.

The Zhuqin played in the void resounded through the gentleman's courtyard and shook Zaining's mansion.

After a short song, Zhong Ying put down the bamboo ruler with a smile, looking towards the distant mountains as if seeking the audience's approval.

"Does it sound good?"

Yuan Shan blinked, but didn't hear anything, only saw Zhong Ying swinging a bamboo ruler.

But he thought of his master's exhortation, and because of Zhixin's presence, he had no choice but to reply flatteringly: "It sounds good. But..."

Yuan Shan was still confused and asked: "What are you playing?"

Zhong Ying held a bamboo ruler in his hand, and the tip of his right finger, which had not healed from the wound, was glaringly conspicuous.

He chanted aloud—

"The wind is rustling, the water is cold, the strong man will never return once he is gone, he will enter the dragon's palace when he explores the tiger's den, and he will become a white rainbow when he looks up to the sky and exhales!"

He put the bamboo ruler back to its original position, as if he had really performed a hearty strike and singing, wanton and carefree.

The next moment, Zhong Ying raised his head and looked at the surveillance camera with the red light flashing on the roof.

"This famous song for piano construction is just right for the dragon pool and tiger den at this moment."

He asked Ning Mingzhi, "It fits the occasion, doesn't it?"