Horse-head Wall Reflects the Qing Dynasty

Chapter 58: Loyalty and filial piety are not limited to Zhou Gong's dream of immortals. He was originally a mortal.

"The judge of the underworld helped Yunniang fulfill her lonely wish. Fortunately, there are such literary works in this world." Yunniang looked at Guan Yin with a look that was half like a close friend and half like attachment.

"Shi Lang and I would like to thank you two benefactors..."

Yunniang bowed gracefully, and Guan Yin and Cheng Heng accepted this greeting without knowing what to do, and were at a loss as to what to do.

"How can the wisdom of heaven and earth be said to be the work of writing?"

"The universe gives birth to and raises people, so don't mention the power of people."

Two voices came out from Guan Yin and Cheng Heng one after another.

As soon as the two finished speaking, Shi Lang, who had not spoken yet, shook his head in the wind and said, "Although it is said that he was born and raised by nature, it is clearly the result of one's heart."

[North to South] [The rain is still late and the beauty is still beautiful, [the blue] is fully carved. [If] spring comes early in the south, [the beauty] will not be wasted.

"Shi Lang, when did you become so sad? It's a pity that the little devil left, Qingsong hasn't come back yet, and I don't know where to find the girl..." Yun Niang landed beside Shi Lang, her figure was soft but not coquettish, and her words were also delicate but not decadent, "Alas, there are so many pitiful people in this world."

How can I redress the injustice? I have no choice but to tell it to whom. Even if the gods and ghosts come to catch me, I will still put me in chains and put me in chains. Who will punish the evildoers? The loyal and conscientious people will always feel sad.

As time went by, a gust of cold wind blew by, and the red shadow in the wind was indeed clear, but this lonely soul was in a panic and didn't know where to go. It bumped into Yun Niang and staggered, unable to stand still.

[The Southern Garden is Beautiful] In a panic, I hide in the south and north, I am timid and cowardly, and I am wrapped in old clothes. Spring is late and I am sad, and the autumn wind takes away my sick soul.

"Oh! That ghost with a green face and fangs keeps chasing us!"

[Beigu fine wine brings Taiping Order] (The ghost female role cries) Tears are woven into the dense net, and my lonely shadow is tortured.

"Oh my! This primate is following me non-stop!" The soul of the Guan girl was spinning in place anxiously. The mountains were towering, and she had lost her direction after coming and going for a long time.

Thinking of how lucky I was in the dream, I couldn't help but think that I had never been able to tell right from wrong in my life: "Hey! How can you not tell right from wrong?"

"Miss Guan, please don't leave. I am the pine spirit in your dream. I created the dream for my own selfish reasons. I never thought that you would die in a dream and die in the underworld when you woke up." The green pine spirit followed behind, signaling Yunniang and Shilang, who had regained their human form, to stop the soul of Guan's daughter first. "The three of us are not proficient in immortal magic. It is difficult to make up for your life. I don't ask for your forgiveness, but I hope that you will think it over and reincarnate as soon as possible."

"It was clear just now..." Guan Yin recalled the words of the immortal. It was clear just now that the daughter of the Guan family was both loyal and filial, and she deserved to be promoted to immortality. "Why did Qingsong Ling conceal this?"

[Autumn withers] deceives the fallen leaves, [Spring is deep] and the drunken soul walks around, stripping away the soul after a lifetime of hard work.

"I didn't hide it from you." Qing Songling didn't blame Guan Yin for saying this out of thin air, but Guan Yin's unconscious words did cause Qing Songling a lot of trouble. "I know it's hard for you to let it go, but..."

"Is it better to wander the countryside and just let people call me a coward and a fool?"

Qing Songling didn't expect that the more she persuaded her, the less interested this girl became in life and death.

After waking up from the dream, Guan's daughter certainly did not give up. She just found that she could not do anything by herself, and even the underworld had no place to complain.

"There are so many injustices in the world. If you are willing, I will appoint you to the position of a loyal minister and a good general to redress grievances." The precious light had not yet dissipated, but it was much softer than when it first came. The immortal was clearly taking into account the current confusion of Guan's daughter and was afraid of scaring her.

The Guan family girl immediately raised her head and looked towards the dark and bright place: "But I..."

"Although I was well versed in poetry and literature, my parents died young."

"How can a lonely girl take on such an important task? A weak fairy is worried about making mistakes. I am afraid that hatred and resentment will increase." In the dream, the tip of the knife was stained with blood. Of course, a young girl would be afraid.

But she still gritted her teeth and moved forward until the injustice was cleared up. But in the end, it was all in vain. It was nothing but an illusory dream, a dream that a group of fairies gave her out of pity for all living beings and risked their own future.

Therefore, Guan's daughter never resented the three fairies for continuing this dream for her. It was just that after waking up from the dream, she realized she was powerless and wanted to escape.

At this time, Guan's daughter was just wandering in the world in a daze. Even if the gods made a promise, she had no place to find the courage to take on the task of clearing the name of a group of people.

"But you have been brave enough to walk alone for such a long time." After listening to Liu Jiaoan's past, Guan Yin knew that the "Guan's daughter" in the script was more like a dream written by the original Guan Tongtong for himself.

"I will use my courage to wipe out all the greed and flattery."

"If you don't want to, they probably won't want to leave either." Guan Yin only understood educational psychology when dealing with children, but Cheng Heng, a scriptwriter, had seen the minds of many playwrights.

Cheng Heng could certainly understand how long a group of compassionate fairies would haunt themselves over the killing of Guan's daughter.

Sure enough, Cheng Heng's words finally came in handy. Guan's daughter certainly didn't want these immortals and spirits who were devoted to her to be trapped in a small world because of her, and she had long been worried about these difficult things to ask for help.

"Even if I die, I will only bring trouble to this mountain elf."

[When that time comes] there will be hatred and resentment. It will be recorded in history [as a testimony] to my uprightness, [who will ask], who can ask for my loyalty!

"Since you have already known your fate, you should set off early and go!" The Three Officials Emperor stood at the head. In an instant, divine light of seven colors illuminated Huangshan and Baiyue, and two groups of auspicious lights descended separately, covering the place where the three immortals were and the figure of Guan's daughter.

(The last person to act as the Three Emperors, Qingsongling, Yunniang, and Shilang quickly leave) [Southern Ending] The loyal and good are vindicated, and the clouds of sorrow are dispelled. I am happy to hope that the world will be peaceful and smooth. I will ascend to heaven and fulfill my promise!
Diligent Huabiao Crane, (Sikong Tu)

The Taoist prefers to choose. (Guo Yin)

The article is brilliant with five colors, (Li Bai)
Who can understand this feeling? (Han)

When I looked at the piece of paper in my hand again, the words on it were no longer the ending written by Guan Yin. The four sentences of "Collected Sentences" had naturally changed from Guan Yin's somewhat detached mood to what they are now.

"The article is brilliant, but it is certainly not light." Cheng Heng did not understand the purpose of this journey. But he now understood the purpose of this dream.

"This poem was written by Li Bai about Huangshan." Seeing the man in front of him looking a little silly, Guan Yin recalled that this sentence was mentioned in the guide script, "I think it should be related to the scenic spot of 'Miaobi Shenghua'."

"Who can get this kind of love... Yes, who can get this kind of love."

The clouds and mists dispersed again. Looking down, the green mountains still reflected people's faces. Look as you like. When Cheng Heng's eyes fell back on Guan Yin, Guan Yin's eyes just happened to focus on the rice paper in their hands: "This story is much better than what I wrote myself, and it can be regarded as... personal experience."

“Immersive and interactive, this kind of drama is what I want.”

"Compared to the last one, this Huangshan is still spiritual. It is much more interesting than my original play."

Cheng Heng did not care that the person in front of him was the "lucky audience" who had been "dragged aboard" by him before.

As time went by, Cheng Heng even felt a little uncomfortable without Guan Yin in his dreams - it wasn't any special emotion, but in such a lonely world, Cheng Heng had already regarded Guan Yin as a support.

No matter if it was a reliance that could be relied on, or a reliance that represented the modern world... Every moment that Cheng Heng was addicted, he was relying on Guan Yin's existence, reminding himself to think about how to go back.

When I go back, I have the opera career I want to develop, my family and classmates, and the "boss" who should be punished!
"Perhaps you can write a better one."

"Don't you think this poem is strange? I didn't tell you about the rules of 'collection of sentences' before, so this is my problem." Speaking of immersive interaction, Cheng Heng also remembered that his mind just now was clearly on these four lines of poetry, and he had unknowingly deviated from the topic.

"I saw that the poems she had mentioned before were all already there, so I just followed them, but I really didn't know how to do it in the middle."

"When I was still young, a good friend who introduced me to the industry told me that this is called 'Ji Tang'..." Cheng Heng's way of talking about the problem, to be honest, really looks like a grown-up teacher, "Actually, this should be called 'Ji Qu', but most people generally use Tang poetry, and poems from other dynasties are rarely used, so it can also be called 'Ji Tang'."

"As for the 'collected sentences', you can see that they are not closely related to the content of the main text. This is because we generally believe that the 'collected sentences' are often like breaking the fourth wall of the play. Some of them are not the content of the script, but the author's unfinished intentions."

"The author's unfulfilled meaning..." Now Guan Yin understood why the quality of his previous paragraph was obviously different from before.

This was not originally my own story. It is certainly not easy to ask a person with a happy family to write about the mentality of a person who has experienced many ups and downs in life.

If the playwright is observant, this might be possible...

"You don't have to feel sorry for yourself. It's already very rare to be able to write like you do."

I don’t know when I will wake up from the dream. When they walk in the mountains again, they have different thoughts. Guan Yin is thinking about how he should do what his original body wanted to do, and how he should know that what he is doing is not just wishful thinking.

And Cheng Heng's eyes were still on the thin piece of rice paper.

Green mountains have no dreams, green mountains have no worries, so naturally there is no article worth writing about green mountains. But these four sentences are more like my own state of mind: "The article is brilliant with five colors, who can understand this feeling?"

Cheng Heng longed to write for his own mood, just like a free and unrestrained crane, coming and going freely. But if he didn't rely on writing to support himself, he would have to do something to make a living.

Just like this time, I gave up the money that should have belonged to me for my passion, how can I make up for this loss? - Just like my hometown that values "farming and studying", how many students have really realized the true truth from the books of sages, but have to be controlled by power and money in that feudal society?

"Guan Yin, what do you think the article should be about?"

"Write what you want to write... and of course, you have to make money."

"We were told that opera is a high-level education. When we were reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea in junior high school, our teacher also told us that science fiction describes the world of the future and is the contribution of literature to social development..." Cheng Heng suddenly realized that Guan Yin quickened his pace, as if he did not want to get involved in his naive and confusing question.

"Guan Yin? Guan Yin!"

In the distance, green pines were covered with clouds and mist, and in front of them, the sun was shining with golden light. Before Cheng Heng caught up with Guan Yin, he had an idea in his mind - no matter what, he had to keep writing, and keep writing despite all difficulties and obstacles!
"Cheng Heng?"

"Cheng Heng! Keep writing."

"Write!" Cheng Heng suddenly woke up as if he had been given a shot of chicken blood. When he opened his eyes, he saw a classroom of students. The sound of him waking up from his dream made the students who had been studying hard with their heads down immediately raise their heads.

The students who were originally distracted could no longer hold back their laughter because they had already noticed the teacher taking a nap.

This small episode naturally would not affect the relationship between teachers and students. However, Cheng Heng himself was panicked for a while. When he was sure that no students were gossiping about him in private, he "accidentally" overheard the students discussing Mo.

"My father said that Wang's ink was hard to come by back then, and Hu's ink came from the Wang family."

Here it comes, here it comes, the main story is finally here! Cheng Heng looked calm on the surface, but he couldn't stop being excited inside: "Ahem, what are you talking about?"

Guan Yin's script has been completed, and the main storyline of his last script is about to end. Perhaps it is time to end this ill-fated relationship caused by the play. When Cheng Heng thought of this, his steps couldn't help but lighten.

Being a teacher is quite fulfilling. Cheng Heng thought: If he can no longer be a drama director, maybe he can try to get a teacher's certificate, teach students, and cultivate a group of new-age enthusiasts; teach foreigners and let them see the vast China.

"Sir, I didn't..."

Such an obvious ink stain could not be hidden, of course. As a student, I didn't want the teacher to preside over the argument, but I still couldn't hide it from the teacher who came up to me.

"Sir, my father bought me a piece of fine ink yesterday. He borrowed it from me, and when it broke, he said my ink was worthless. He wanted to use a piece of ink from an unheard-of ink shop to replace the broken piece!"

The student who had been silent before seemed to have found his backbone and started pouring out his grievances to the teacher in front of him.

"If I'm going to compensate you, I'll have to compensate you with an identical piece." Cheng Heng wasn't biased. The ink in front of him was soon named the Imperial Ink and became famous in later generations. It was also made by its founder himself, so of course it couldn't be "bad".

But when I was a child, I treasured old things.

When Cheng Heng was learning to write in elementary school and was allowed to use a fountain pen instead of a pencil, his father gave him a fountain pen.

Later, the nephew grew up, and Cheng Heng's signature pen had replaced the fountain pen, so his father gave this "useless" pen away...

The better pen that I promised to give Cheng Heng, Cheng Heng has forgotten whether he bought it or not, but he still remembers the pen that he can never get back.

What's more, the boy was clearly boasting when he spoke just now. Cheng Heng naturally remembered the time when his nephew waved the pen in front of him with his self-proclaimed "victory" - even though his nephew went to high school and had long forgotten about the pen, he still remembered to come over and say "sorry" to him.

"Yes, I don't care whether your ink is good or bad, I want you to compensate me for this one!"