"I killed someone and it was just a knife on my neck. Now you are going to chop me into minced meat!"

This shocking sentence made Zhong Yue concentrate and look at the grave.

Before he knew it, Zhong Yue actually came to Xu Wei and Xu Wenchang's cemetery.

He is full of heart and heart worrying about the world, and his meridians and latitudes are passed down from ancient times to the present.

Who is it?

Shanyin Xu Wenchang!

A versatile talent in the Ming Dynasty, Xu Wei!

If you want to use an art master as an analogy, then Xu Wei will be Van Gogh from the East.

No, in Zhong Yue's mind, Van Gogh is the little Xu Wei of the West! This versatile talent in poetry, calligraphy, painting, opera, and military can be called a genius.

Such a genius is sometimes crazy, and even kills his wife and goes to prison, and sometimes he is full of passion. He holds his pen to rest in the world and immediately determines the world. Only a talent that is unparalleled in hundreds of years has been produced, with a bumpy life and a miserable fate. Sometimes he drinks in a restaurant, sometimes he sometimes destroys his face and head. Before he dies, he only has a dog to accompany him.

It was such a madman who set the forefront of freehand landscapes in the Ming and Qing Dynasties.

The saint in Qingteng's paintings, and his calligraphy is more than that of Lu Gong.

This is Xu Wei, this is the crazy Xu Wenchang!

"I killed someone and it was just a knife on my neck. Now you are going to chop me into minced meat!"

This is not Xu Wei’s crazy, but his shouts and roars in the face of the constraints of feudal ethics!

Zhong Yue watched Mo Yun vent his voluntary vent in front of the grave, how rampant it was.

Perhaps gentle and elegant are synonymous with the image of masters of Chinese studies. But Xu Wei is not, he is a genius Qingteng.

In five hundred years, countless masters can be born, but in five hundred years, the second Xu Wei cannot be born!

Mo Yun turned into a figure and looked at Zhong Yue, "You said, am I Angelica or die!"

Zhong Yue felt a little pain in his heart when he looked at Mo Yun's figure standing on the grave.

A man who was so crazy that he was destroyed by time actually asked him whether he would return or die.

Xu Wei's cemetery, like his people, was penniless and could not even be seen. The genius buried here was so burying. This place was not even considered a tourist attraction.

It's not a scenic spot, but this will allow this genius who is uneasy during his lifetime to sleep quietly after his death.

"Diet, isn't Mr. Wen Chang's heart coming?"

The ink rhyme surged again, and the laughter came overwhelmingly like ghosts.

Madman, Xu Wei is a madman! He does not have the demeanor of a master.

But he doesn't need it!

"Where is my heart to be my death? A joke! I did not die when I pacified the Japanese in Zhejiang, and did not die in the implication and frame-up of the imperial court. Now, you, a child who is a yellow mouth, actually let me die? It's ridiculous!"

Seeing the half-crazy and half-zealous Mo Ying floating in the air, Zhong Yue had no intention of being frightened. This dialogue that traveled through time and space was obviously virtual, but it made him feel sad.

"The world cannot tolerate Xu Qingteng."

Mo Ying, who was still laughing wildly, suddenly stopped laughing and repeated Zhong Yue's words.

"The world cannot tolerate Xu Qingteng."

"The world cannot tolerate me, Xu Qingteng."

"The world cannot tolerate Xu Wenchang."

"How can I not tolerate my Xu Wei in the world?!"

The rain is like silk, and this is Xu Wei crying.

Everyone hopes to be treated gentlely by time, but there are always people who are unfortunate, but those lives that survive tenaciously from misfortune and grow wildly against the trend are the most legendary figures in this world.

Zhong Yue can have a long talk with Jin Nong, Wen Zhengming can be called a disciple, and Wang Ximeng can be called a brother, but only when facing this man, Zhong Yue feels sad for him from the bottom of his heart, and even hopes that he will go there.

It’s not the world that it can’t tolerate Xu Qingteng.

That's because the world is not worthy of this genius!

Xu Wenchang should be a cultural prosperity that is free from illness, feudal ethics, and court struggles.

If he was born in the prosperous Tang Dynasty.

Maybe Ouyang Xun is nothing.

Maybe Gu Kaizhi is nothing.

Perhaps, Guan Hanqing must be a little inferior to the charming and worship this talent.

However, pressing Xu Wei in the prosperous Tang Dynasty seemed so inappropriate.

The words of persuasion that Zhong Yue could think of is—

"Please die by Mr. Wen Chang."

Living is so painful that it is so painful that a person commits suicide nine times, and from time to time the axe is slashing his face. What a cruel thing?

Zhong Yue bowed and bowed, and said firmly, "Please go back to bed, sir."

The funny and funny ink rhyme is in a dim manner.

"Okay, okay! One is back to bed, and the other is back to bed!"

Although it is a treasure hunt in the secret realm, when facing such an open and unrestrained real person, Zhong Yue could not say any flattery. The only thing he wanted to say was "please go back to bed with a sir."

The rain stopped.

The figure gradually stabilized.

When Zhong Yue looked up again, it became clearer, as if the old man with black ink in front of him was Xu Wenchang himself, who was incompatible with the world.

Zhong Yue didn't see much of those deep and arrogant eyes, perhaps the same was true for Van Gogh before committing suicide.

"I am going to sleep. I have the first place in calligraphy, second in poetry, third in writing, fourth in painting. You can choose one, and I will give it to you. I, Xu Wenchang, can't stand the most debt to others!"

Zhong Yue took a deep breath and refused to be pretentious in front of such a real person. That was to add a play to himself, "I hope that I will live up to my high expectations when I learn the paintings of my master!"

"Haha! As you wish!"

The ink rhyme scattered, and a little white light floated into Zhong Yue's eyebrows.

[Xu Wei's freehand painting method of splashing ink]

The ink white colors in front of Zhong Yue were as restrained as before, and the ordinary bluestone tomb was packed with a simple bluestone stele.

It is simple, it is the tomb of Xu Wei in Shanyin.

Zhong Yue knelt down and bowed three times, "Mr. Xie taught the art."

If time could go back and return to the starting point of choice, Zhong Yue would rather find the ink-colored bamboo slips than disturb Xu Wenchang's peace. This crazy man who does not belong to the world would be a sin to let him suffer another destruction.

Zhong Yue walked out of Xu Wei's tomb, his eyes full of guilt and sadness.

Compared with such people, those who claim to be masters of calligraphy and painting seem so small and ridiculous. I have to say that Zhong Yue’s biggest gain this time was not the [Xu Wei’s freehand painting method of splashing ink], but a huge improvement in his mood.

This is a sublimation of mood that cannot be bought with a wealth of money.

But the same thing is said, if we can do it again, Zhong Yue would rather not come here to disturb Mr. Wen Chang's sleep.

The secret realm opportunity, self-decision, Zhong Yue sighed, he did this choice.

Zhong Yue looked at his final destination.

Secret Land Goose Pond.

However, there was no excitement or tension in my heart.

This time, you should go forward without any further, and see the blue sky through the clouds and mist!
Chapter completed!