Seventh Pagoda

Li Congjia was painting in the Hall of Yanying, and when he wrote the brush, he fumbled lightly. With three strokes, the slender iron hooks and locks spread all over the bamboo body.

Before the painting was finished, the servant came rushing in in a panic: "Your Majesty! Something is wrong! Calling in!" Li Congjia waved his hand, signaling him not to make noise and just concentrate on the painting.

The servant was in a hurry, turning around like ants on the hot pot, the huge palace city was full of birds and beasts, seeing that the down-and-out emperor was determined to end up with the painting, the servant stomped his feet, and finally turned around to join in. The fleeing crowd.

It was rare for the ears to be quiet. People outside the hall turned their backs on their backs. Inside the hall, Li Congjia only guarded his paintings, and the room was peaceful.

After finishing the painting, Li Congjia paced back and forth, examining the "Lonely Bamboo Bearing Snow" carefully. The mountains and rocks cracked by a big ax were overturned layer by layer, and a single solitary bamboo was pressed down obliquely. The bamboo body is more flexible.

Li Congjia nodded in satisfaction, and habitually waved to the side: "Little Zhongzi, come over and have a look, is this painting as good as yesterday?"

A figure came over, but it was not Xiao Zhongzi.

"The painting is good, but it's too thin."

Li Congjia raised his eyes and saw a man pretending to be standing in front of him. He had an extremely strange face, but his eyes made people feel close for no reason.

Looking around, there was no one in the hall. The man in front of him must have been in the hall for a long time, and he had patiently waited for him to finish his painting. Li Congjia felt a little considerate and grateful in his heart. He calmly put down his pen, straightened his clothes, and stretched out his hand. The attitude of grabbing hands.

As the sixth son of Yuan Zong, it was not his turn to sit on the throne anyway. Unexpectedly, each of the five elder brothers was more ruthless than the other, plotting to poison the East Palace.

After the incident, Yuanzong Xu was powerless to fight with his sons, and added the grief of the newly lost eldest son, so he was disheartened and made Li Congjia the king of Wu and entered the East Palace.

In the past 14 years, Li Congjia has always been obsessed with the rhythm of poetry and calligraphy, and his personality has already formed. It is more uncomfortable to let him take charge of politics and discuss affairs suddenly than to kill him.

Yuan Zong had made up his mind, so he let it go and ignored it.

How can such a calligraphy and painting emperor sit firmly?

After Yuanzong's death, Li Congjia didn't care about internal and external troubles and disputes in the world. He was not the material to be emperor. Whoever wants to be emperor can let him be.

He was willing, but his close ministers were not. They led him to retreat again and again, living in a corner, delusionally thinking that one day he would regain control of the world.

Li Congjia is still obsessed with calligraphy and painting, which is no different from the past.

Rao is so indifferent to world affairs, but he hears people mentioning a person's name from time to time.

Guo Rong.

In just a few years, he conquered Khitan in the north and defeated Houshu in the west. Sooner or later, the fourteen prefectures in Huainan will also be in his hands.

Li Congjia sometimes sighs to himself, if such a heroic figure becomes the emperor, the whole world will celebrate him, no better than himself, he has nothing to do but draw and write, years of wars and chaos, the loss of life...

Several times, Li Congjia couldn't help but wanted to suggest, "Let's not escape, just give up the throne to Guo Rong", but the words were interrupted repeatedly, and he couldn't bear to win the hearts of his neighbors.

Now that Guo Rong has finally entered the Hall of Yanying, Li Congjia feels more relaxed than he can tell.

Seeing Li Congjia's willingness to capture him without a fight, Guo Rong was a little puzzled. He sat down on the armchair in front of the case, looked outside the hall and did not speak.

The attendants must have been ordered long ago. In the empty Yanying Hall, only Guo Rong and Li Congjia were left.

Disputes and noises could be heard intermittently in the distance. It was the people brought by Guo Rong who were doing post-war rectification.

Li Congjia didn't know what he was thinking, and was quite at a loss.

After a long time, Guo Rong seemed to have made up his mind. He got up, pulled down the curtain, pushed down the candlestick, and watched the flames rise up little by little. Li Congjia felt that he understood.

If he is still alive, even though he is just a useless person, he is still a threat. It is better to die cleanly. From now on, the world will depend on Guo Rong.

Thinking of this, Li Congjia felt relieved, put away "Lonely Bamboo Bearing Snow" and handed it to Guo Rong: "Go quickly. The fire is big."

Thick smoke billowed and flames shot up to the sky, and Li Congjia choked to the point of tears. Guo Rongding looked at Li Congjia silently, as if watching Li Congjia's dying struggle was a pleasure.

Li Congjia was good at pushing him away, but he couldn't push him away, his consciousness became more and more confused, and he couldn't push him anymore.

After a while, Li Congjia felt that his whole body was exhausted, the breath in his chest became weaker and weaker, and there was a buzzing in his head. Li Congjia knew that he was afraid that he was going to die.

A faint sigh came into his ears, and Guo Rong's eyes were full of struggles. In the end, he still grabbed Li Congjia's arm, took the long sword to open the way, and led him out.

When Li Congjia woke up, it was already three days later.

The carriage was moving smoothly, and the soft couch was warm and comfortable. Guo Rong sat opposite, put down the volume of military books in his hand, brought a cup of warm tea to his lips, and asked him warmly, "Why did you sleep for so long?"

Li Congjia sipped his tea and cleared his throat: "I thought I was dead."

Guo Rong waited for him to finish drinking tea, put down the teacup, and then sat back across from him, covered his face with the military book, and asked him from behind the book in a muffled voice, "You want to die so much?"

Li Congjia laughed suddenly: "No. But since you are going to die, you have to think about the benefits of death. After I die, you will be the emperor, and the world will be peaceful. You don't have to worry about how much your brothers hate me every day... just like this Think, it’s good to be dead.”

Guo Rong's words were stuck in his throat, and he didn't say it for a while, and he didn't say it.

I was obsessed with ghosts and didn't want to burn him to death. If he didn't die, he didn't die. If he let him go, he would end up, but he still brought him back. How do you say that?

After thinking about it for a few days, I finally came up with a reason, saying that this person was brought back by visiting a famous teacher on his way to the south, Master Qingyun's disciple, a high-spirited monk, brought him back to keep the country safe, he is a lie!

He can think of how many spittles he will face after his class teacher returns to Beijing, ah, chest tightness, shortness of breath, headache...

Guo Rong's ancestors were originally from a prominent family, a local rich man.His aunt was once a concubine in the palace. Guo Rong traveled around with the family's caravan when he was young, and learned about the sufferings of the people.

The world was in chaos, and all the relatives of Guo's family staying in Beijing were killed. Guo Rong raised an army in anger, and fought on horseback to this day.

He has heard of Li Congjia for a long time. Guo Rong has always appreciated Li Congjia's excellent poetry, calligraphy, painting and music.

When he captured his capital, he was concentrating on painting in Yanying Hall, and it was exactly as he imagined, weak, thin, too thin...

Just looking at it like this, I suddenly felt a little unbearable...

That's all, I've come all over the South and North, whoever dares to chew their tongues will fight back!

Thinking of this, Guo Rong's heart can be regarded as settled down. A person who has always been used to riding a horse is willing to condescend to get into the carriage, and take care of feeding him some rice porridge every few hours, and watch Li Congjia wake up.

Li Congjia woke up. He really couldn't understand the current situation. After much deliberation, he only thought of one possibility: "Do you want to take me back to paint for you? Do you like my paintings?"

Guo Rong tightened the book of war in his hand: "From today onwards, you are not allowed to draw anymore."

Li Congjia's eyes widened rarely: "Why!" Then he might as well die!

Guo Rong was angry, seeing that you, the emperor, are fooled. You don't go to court and don't discuss politics. You hide in your study and draw pictures. Your paintings are more famous than yours!

You are wandering around in my palace, maybe not many people recognize you, once you draw a picture, okay, everyone take a look, isn't this the lord Li Congjia!Why didn't he die!Not only did he not die, why did he even come to our palace!

The more Guo Rong thought about it, the more angry he became, and he turned his head away from looking at him.

Li Congjia was angry and sad, and asked him weakly: "Why? Is it because... I can't draw well?"

Guo Rong was flustered by the grievance in his words, he struggled with himself for a long time, and finally let go: "When I'm here, you can draw."

The stars in Li Congjia's eyes lit up, and he nodded again and again: "Then I always miss you."

Guo Rong's heart skipped a beat, he didn't open his eyes, he was in a panic.

It's been smooth sailing.

After returning to Beijing, Guo Rong coaxed and tricked Li Congjia into agreeing to the National Teachers' Ceremony. Li Congjia had just painted enough and was in a good mood. He smiled and asked him, "Why? Do you want me to be a national teacher? I don't want to. "

Guo Rong said: "What's wrong with being a national teacher? All people respect him."

Li Congjia calmly put away the painting, handed it to Guo Rong, and asked him casually: "National teacher...which country? Your country or mine..."

Guo Rong: "..."

After destroying other people's country, but still shyly letting him be his national teacher, Guo Rong thought about it now, and felt that he was really a jerk.

However, if Li Congjia is not allowed to go out in a fair manner, Li Congjia can only hide in the side hall forever, as a slave to the subjugated country, never seeing the light of day...

As soon as he touched this thought, Guo Rong inexplicably felt that thousands of arrows pierced his heart, and the pain was unbearable. No, he must let him go under the sun, to a bright, broad, and gentle place.

Guo Rong became cruel and said a few names: "Xu Changmao, Li Jiming, Zhong Da, Sun Zanxu..."

Li Congjia opened his eyes wide: "What do you want to do?"

Guo Rong settled down: "If you become the national teacher, I will let them die in peace. If you are not, I..."

Guo Rong was at a loss for words, because he saw the sadness in Li Congjia's eyes that he had never seen before.

If he stomped his feet and gritted his teeth and cursed, "I hate you!" Guo Rong would be happy with it.

But he just watched Guo Rong silently and didn't say a single word. Li Congjia didn't realize the thorough sadness after being completely abandoned by fate. This kind of look was even the result of being poisoned by his brothers. Never once.

Li Congjia nodded slightly: "I will."

From this day on, he never draws again.