At the age of eight, he impersonated the orphan of a military officer and went to the martial world.

Chapter 97 A few peach blossoms bloom outside the bamboo grove; the ducks are the first to know when the spring river warms.

However, Li Jinyuan himself seemed completely unaware of this, still immersed in his interest in introducing the garden scenery.

Zhang Yuan was secretly awestruck: This level of mastery is entirely natural, requiring no external force. This person is a true master of Confucianism and Taoism!

There are countless paths to spiritual practice in this world, but they all lead to the same goal: to cultivate one's mind and tranquility.

At this moment, Zhang Yuan gained a different understanding of cultivation.

Arriving at a quiet room by the water, the room was bright and clean, with elegant furnishings.

Li Jinyuan, engrossed in his work, walked to the desk by the window, spread out a sheet of plain white Xuan paper, dipped his brush in ink, and said with a smile, "Young friend Qingyang, Jintang said you have amazing talent in martial arts. I wonder if you are interested in the art of calligraphy?"

"Having observed the scenery in the garden today, I am moved by what I see. How about I paint a few strokes, as a way to exchange ideas?"

As he spoke, he wielded his brush: "Look, painting bamboo should be like writing the character '極'. The branches and trunk need to have strength, like 'an angry lion tearing at a rock, a thirsty steed rushing to a spring,' the key is the flow of energy and rhythm."

With a few strokes of his brush, a few bamboo stalks immediately leap onto the paper, their branches and leaves sparse and their joints strong and upright. Although only a few strokes are used, the uprightness and integrity of the bamboo are vividly expressed.

Looking at the ink bamboo that seemed to burst forth from the paper, Zhang Yuan recalled the line "The bamboo shadow sweeps the steps, yet the dust remains unmoved," and blurted out, "The branches sway, the shadows move, but the roots remain still. My fellow student's bamboo already embodies this sentiment."

Li Jinyuan's wrist, which was holding the pen, froze. He suddenly looked up at Zhang Yuan, his eyes gleaming with admiration!

This comment, "stillness within movement," directly points to the fundamental "composure" he possesses when wielding his brush—a perspective that a child just beginning to explore calligraphy and painting could never have!

"Alright, alright, let's see these few strokes again—" Li Jinyuan quickly wielded his brush.

Golden light shone again in Zhang Yuan's sea of ​​consciousness.

[The Daoist essence of "Ink Rhyme Spiritual Connection" has been detected. Reaching its Great Perfection requires a lifespan of five hundred years.]

Zhang Yuan: ———— Five hundred years to paint a picture? Forget it, I'd rather practice my knife skills more.

While Confucianism and Taoism are good, they are simply too taxing on one's lifespan.

For Zhang Yuan, even if he were to live a long life, this would not be such a wasteful and extravagant way of life.

Looking at Li Jinyuan engrossed in calligraphy and painting, he felt a pang of envy.

It's great to be able to focus on doing what you love.

"The beauty of peach blossoms lies in their vitality, and the brushstrokes must be lively. As the saying goes, spring is already in full bloom on the branches. You must paint the meaning of buds about to bloom and full of vitality." Li Jinyuan changed to another brush, dipped it in a little light pink, and with a light touch of the brush tip, several budding peach blossoms appeared on the branches, delicate and dewy.

Zhang Yuan observed the flowing lines of the brush, and the imagery of "the full beauty of spring on the branches" stirred his heart. Countless famous lines about spring from his past life surged within him. He suppressed the urge to try and evoke literary inspiration and cautiously replied, "Brother, your brushwork is superb. With just a touch of rouge, you have captured the essence of spring."

The four characters “占尽春光” (meaning “capturing all the spring light”) accurately capture the vibrant vitality of the peach blossoms in Li Jinyuan’s painting and the implied sense of “who else but me”.

Upon hearing this, Li Jinyuan's smile grew even brighter, and his gaze towards Zhang Yuan was no longer just one of admiration, but also carried a hint of surprise at discovering a hidden gem.

Although this young man claims to be a beginner, his spirituality, his insights, and the profound knowledge hidden in his words make him a natural material for Confucianism and Taoism!

Moreover, it's so in sync with me!

Zhang Yuan watched intently, and saw that Li Jinyuan wielded the brush with ease, and the magnificent spirit in his heart flowed from the tip of the brush.

The bamboo seemed to possess a spirit, its branches and leaves swaying gently in the breeze.

The pale pink peach blossoms seemed to exude a faint fragrance.

The entire quiet room, thanks to his brushstrokes and artistic spirit, subtly exudes a mysterious feeling of "a realm hidden within a painting".

[The "Artistic Connection to the Divine" supernatural power has been detected. Reaching its ultimate perfection requires a lifespan of nine hundred years!]

Zhang Yuan:

He completely abandoned any thought of trying out Confucian or Taoist supernatural powers at this moment; even though he had a long lifespan, he wasn't going to squander it like that.

The realm of Li Jinyuan, who is immersed in calligraphy and painting and completely forgets himself, is the direction that he should try to understand.

Just then, outside the quiet room, an elderly man in his fifties, dressed in a blue sixth-rank official robe, slowly walked in.

It was Li Yuanjiang, the head of the Li family and a clerk in the government office.

He had just returned home from the government office.

Passing by the courtyard, Li Yuanjiang heard laughter and conversation about calligraphy and painting from inside the quiet room, and sensed an unusually gentle and cultured atmosphere permeating the room. He couldn't help but stop and asked the servant guarding the door with curiosity, "Does Jin Yuan have any classmates or fellow students visiting today? It's been a long time since I've seen such a lively conversation and atmosphere."

He knew his own son's temperament well, and there were very few men in the entire city of Luyang that he could find acceptable.

Which renowned Confucian or Taoist master from the city has come to visit, capable of composing poems and painting in such a manner?

The servant quickly bowed and reported, "Master, it is Young Master Zhang Qingyang from Fengming County who is inside, discussing painting with the eldest son."

"Zhang Qingyang?" Li Yuanjiang was taken aback upon hearing this, then a look of understanding and intense interest flashed in his eyes. "Is that the eight-year-old Zhang Yuan who made Jintang admit defeat and call him a 'monster' upon his return?"

When Li Jintang returned, he held Zhang Qingyang, who was only eight years old, in high esteem.

Even his cousin, Li Decai, the head of the Li family in Fengming County, wrote a letter to recommend him.

He walked with his hands behind his back to the door of the quiet room, wanting to hear what made this young man so extraordinary.

Just then, Zhang Yuanqing's clear and calm voice came from inside the room: "Brother Jinyuan's instruction on brushwork is well remembered by Qingyang. Today, watching you paint and observing the scenery in the garden, I have gained some insights and have decided to compose a poem."

Composing a poem?!

Li Yuanjiang outside the door and Li Jinyuan inside the door were both startled at almost the same time!

Li Yuanjiang's eyes showed surprise. An eight-year-old child was composing a poem on the spot.

This is not just ordinary children reciting enlightenment poems, but a fundamental method of Confucianism and Taoism for "transforming literary spirit into form"!

It requires genuine talent, insight, and a profound sense of righteousness to resonate with it!

Inside, Li Jinyuan was overjoyed. He put down his paintbrush, his eyes gleaming, picked up the brush again, and exclaimed with barely suppressed excitement, "Excellent! Excellent! To be able to compose poetry at the age of eight, displaying such literary talent, is truly a gift! Recite it for me, and I will record it!"

Zhang Yuan's gaze was calm as he looked out the window at the swaying bamboo and scattered peach blossoms, then at Li Jinyuan's calligraphy and painting, and recited in a clear voice:

Three or two peach blossoms outside the bamboo, the spring river plumbing duck prophet.

The ground is covered with watercress and the reeds are short; it is the time when pufferfish are about to ascend the river.

The poem is elegant and natural, with vivid imagery, as if it blends the garden scene before one's eyes with the vitality of spring depicted by Li Jinyun.

As Zhang Yuan recited, Li Jinyuan's wrist trembled, and his brush moved like dragons and snakes, each ink character carrying the surging resonance in his heart and his own pure and noble literary spirit, quickly falling onto the paper.

Just as the final stroke of the character "时" was completed, "Buzz!"

In the quiet room, a strange change suddenly occurred!

The ink marks on the plain white Xuan paper suddenly burst forth with a faint golden light!

A powerful, refreshing, and vibrant literary spirit surged forth!