Difficult for a son-in-law

Ming Zhan was quite complacent about killing a tiger for the first time he was hunting.

Isn't it too selfish to only rejoice in such an experience?

Even the sages said, "Which one is more happy alone than with others?"

Therefore, Ming Zhan specially wrote a long letter to his beloved emperor uncle to share his adventures.

In the letter, Ming Zhan described in detail how he was fearless in the face of danger, calmly analyzed, and then accurately inserted a lighted dagger into the tiger's carotid artery, and then escaped from the tiger's mouth.

Wrote:

At that time, I was galloping on a horse, the autumn wind was blowing my hair, butterflies were flying, birds were singing, and the wild fruits on the dwarf trees were as red as agate stones on hairpins of beautiful women.

In this beautiful autumn scenery, I saw a colorful tiger jumping out from a distance, exhaling a gust of evil wind from its bloody mouth, sucking the yellow sheep whale into its mouth, and swallowing it after two sips. down.

Feng Jingnan didn't know why, but seeing Ming Zhan's words falling on the paper and stringing them into sentences, he felt cold all over, and couldn't help reminding Ming Zhan, "That sheep was not eaten by the tiger at all. A gust of evil wind spewed out of the tiger's mouth? You wrote this as a tiger demon, right?"

"Exaggeration, do you understand exaggeration?" Ming Zhan poured out his ink.

"Aren't you exaggerating? You're just making up things."

Ming Zhan ignored Feng Jingnan and continued to write:

my sheep! ! !

The gazelle I have worked so hard to chase! ! !

At that time, I was angry from the bottom of my heart, and the evil came to my gallbladder!Jumped off from the wind-chasing horse, stood in front of the tiger, flicked his fingers, and roared, "You beast, you dare to take the sheep from me, you don't want to die!"

Feng Jingnan finally couldn't bear this disgust, got up and left.

……

Feng Jingnan went out to take a bath, changed clothes and came back, it was half an hour later, on the desk lit by candles, Ming Zhan was still writing quickly, continuing his legendary story.

Feng Jingnan's wet hair was hanging on his back. When he looked over, there were seven or eight written letters drying on the desk. Ming Zhan had already written: that big foul-smelling mouth approached my throat, and the breath of death Covered my whole body, I thought I was dead.At that moment, I thought of my mother, who will take care of my mother when I die?And my man-in-law and sister-in-law, can she still marry in this life?And my most beloved uncle, farewell to the end of the world, goodbye is the next life!It was the one who personally sent me to the scythe of death, my father, even if I was a ghost, I would come back and chat with him!

Feng Jingnan was angry, "What do you mean, what do you mean 'I will send you under the scythe of death'? I knew there would be tigers?"

"If you don't ask me to chase the sheep, can this happen?" Ming Zhan replied bluntly, so it is natural for people to be biased, Ming Zhan added, "I will not let you go even if I am a ghost. "

Feng Jingnan raised his hand and slapped Ming Zhan on the back of the head, Ming Zhan finally silenced himself.

Uncle, you know how ordinary my martial arts are.But at this moment, I already felt the tiger's sharp teeth gripping my fragile neck, and I almost heard the clear sound of my neck being crushed under those teeth.

It was too late to say that, my right hand waved like lightning, and the dagger exuded a biting chill under the warm autumn sun.At that moment, the clear sky was covered by dark clouds, and the night flooded the earth. With my thunderbolt knife, the lightning broke through the haze of the sky, and the huge thunder struck the top.

"My lord, do you want to pass on Xiao Ye?" Li San entered the room lightly and asked softly.

"No need." After reading Ming Zhan's letter, there was no place for him to eat.

Feng Jingnan felt that Ming Zhan was not writing about his experience of fighting a tiger at all, but the scene of Pangu creating the world.

I was lying on the ground, and the tiger's blood was like plum blossoms, drowning me in an instant.

Feng Jingnan asked from the side, "Did you still think that blood was like a plum blossom? It drowned you in an instant, isn't this blood, is it raining?"

Ming Zhan replied, "Blood rain."

I clearly saw a flash of disbelief in the tiger's eyes, and then, the tiger king raised his head to the sky and roared, and I seemed to hear him howl unwillingly, "Impossible, impossible, how could I die in the hands of a mortal?" !?"

Feng Jingnan sprayed a mouthful of tea on the ground, the corner of his mouth twitched again and again.

Ming Zhan turned to look at Feng Jingnan, "Don't look at me, I'm not in the mood to write a letter at all when you're here."

Feng Jingnan glanced at the letter paper on the table, and sighed, "You are not in the mood to write for so long. If you are in the mood, it does not matter whether you have enough paper in the palace. In my opinion, you don't have to write a letter anymore." , I might as well write it as a story-telling novel, I have already thought up the name for you, and it will be called "Legend of Fighting the Tiger".

Ming Zhan said shamelessly, "That's good, it's just that I don't have that free time. I might as well hire two outstanding talents on the street. I probably want to talk to them and let them write for me."

"Hurry up and go to bed early." Feng Jingnan urged.

"understood."

Ming Zhan finished with displeasure, bit the tip of his pen, and Ming Zhan said, "In the end, I'd better write a poem."

"Not bad." Feng Jingnan agreed, "You have also studied with the adults for a long time, write a poem for me."

"Whether or not I kill the tiger is the second priority. The key is to show my composure, my bravery, and my fearless spirit of seeing death as home." Ming Zhan saw Feng Jingnan's twisted face and asked, "Father, what are you doing?" Are there any good poems?"

Feng Jingnan ignored Ming Zhan.

Ming Zhan wrote with a brush, "My father has been urging me, so I had to end it hastily. It's a pity that I couldn't express my unfinished feelings on paper and share it with my uncle. In the end, I just wrote a poem. .'In the face of death, I laughed with confidence, and the devil's palace shook with laughter. This is me, the confession of a tiger-fighting hero; I sang triumphantly and knocked down the tiger.'”

"Is this also called poetry?" Feng Jingnan felt that he didn't need to have breakfast tomorrow.

"Naturally, it's poetry. This is called vernacular poetry." Ming Zhan picked up the last page of the letter and dried it carefully.

"Okay, you go take a bath, the water is ready." Feng Jingnan sent Ming Zhan to take a bath.

Ming Zhan knew that Feng Jingnan wanted to read his letter, and there was no private space in front of Feng Jingnan. Although he was a little unhappy, he still said, "Put it in an envelope for me after you read it, and I will send someone to send it out." .”

After Ming Zhan left, Feng Jingnan added, "Looking at Ming Zhan's letter, my brother saves three meals, I wonder if the emperor is the same?"

This thick letter was sent to Feng Jingqian after thousands of miles.

Feng Jing laughed dryly, his younger brother's mental capacity is still too weak.So Ming Zhan gave this experience a name, and it was called "Fu Hu Ji", which was later compiled into a mythological opera, which was very popular.