A dusty minibus was slowly moving on the road, the engine humming feebly, making people drowsy. At this time, it was just around noon, and the sun was hot, and the passengers leaning towards the middle of the car windows tried to avoid the sun's rays; Standing, pushing back with shoulders or thighs, silently defending their territory.Coupled with the rugged terrain formed by the mountains of woven bags piled up on the aisle and luggage rack, more than a dozen rows of seats present a complex posture of canine teeth. Every time the car swings, the pattern of this small world will change once.The smell of sweat, poultry, gasoline, and even the feet of some people who secretly took off their leather shoes to dry lingered in the narrow compartment, making the already hot and dry air even more unbearable.From time to time, a few chickens and geese stuffed under the seats raised their necks and screamed twice, as if the chaos wasn't enough.

Among these passengers with painful expressions, sat a monk with a handsome face.This monk was wearing a gray robe and a string of sandalwood beads around his neck. If he didn't have the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, he would be no different from the ancients. This disciple of the Buddhist family can be regarded as a pure Buddha-nature. In this noisy and crowded environment, he is still calm and calm, quite like the demeanor of the Buddha who enlightened under the bodhi tree back then.If you look carefully, you will find that the great master still has two black earphone plugs in his ears, a thin thread is drawn into the monk's robe, his fingers are beating his knees rhythmically, and his lips are murmuring, as if he is silently chanting.

The voice is ethereal, vaguely absent, like a Sanskrit voice whispering: "I'll send you away, thousands of miles away, you are silent black and white..." The minibus suddenly slammed on the brakes and made a sharp howling sound. The inertia threw everyone forward, and there were exclamations in the carriage.A combination box wrapped with steel horns jumped off the luggage rack, obliquely hitting a little girl in the front row. Strange to say, just when the box was about to hit the little girl's head, it seemed to be pushed horizontally by a force out of thin air, rolled a few times in the air, and hit the conductor on the back of the head with an "ouch".

All this happened in an instant, none of the passengers noticed the process, only saw the result, and they all showed gloating expressions.The conductor grinned in pain, and couldn't blame anyone else, so he bent down to pick up the box and yelled at the driver, "How did you drive!?" The driver obediently pulled the handbrake with his neck curled up, bringing the car to a complete stop.The conductor rubbed his head, turned his face and shouted angrily: "Wei Zhuang is here, who wants to get off?" The monk opened his eyes, gracefully took the earphone plugs out of his ears and put them in his arms, patted the little girl on the head, and then Get out of the car and go.

After getting out of the car, the monk suddenly turned around and chanted a Buddha's name to the conductor: "Amitabha, the poor monk just heard that the sound was abnormal when the car was parked. If you create karma, you will get karma. It must be that the donor has been overloaded for a long time, so that the brake drum is out of round." Or if there is a taper, it is better to replace it with a new one. It’s good enough.” After speaking, the monk gave a deep salute and walked away. This monk is Peter.After sending Luo Zhongxia, Yan Zheng and Er Zhuzi away, he bid farewell to Zeng Guifen and rushed all the way to Wei Zhuang, the gathering place of the Wei family.The rebirth of Qinglian shook the entire clan, plus Wei Shiran's comeback, and Qin Yi's traces again. All these important events must be explained to the clan leader in person.

After he left the road, he walked along a simple asphalt road for more than ten minutes, then turned onto a mountain ridge full of pink and light yellow wildflowers, made several turns, and finally turned over a high slope.As soon as you cross the high slope, your sight suddenly opens up, and the face is full of green. A mountain road winds down, like a white line in the green bushes. concave basin.The basin is surrounded by mountains and rivers, and a group of houses with high eaves and blue tiles can be seen at the bottom of the basin, which is where Wei Zhuang is located. Even though Monk Peter had a firm Buddha nature, he couldn't help but take a deep breath, feeling a burst of excitement in his heart.He hasn't been back for several years. Compared with the upside-down world outside, nothing has changed here. It seems to be the realm of alienation described by Mr. Wuliu, transcending the world.Especially for those who are used to the hustle and bustle of the city, coming here will feel like a world away.

He walked to the entrance of the village and looked up at the two seal characters "Wei Zhuang" on the stone archway. Next to the archway, there was a road sign with white characters on a blue background, which read "Wei Zhuang welcomes you" five imitation Song characters.Monk Peter walked past the archway and into the village. Several young people in the village happened to pass by him on motorcycles. They all looked over curiously and whistled twice; The donkey with a travel bag raised the camera to him. The road in Weizhuang is paved with blue stones, with ups and downs, and the width is just enough to allow two Buick Regals to pass by.On both sides of the road are mostly ancient houses of brick and wood structure, with blue bricks and blue tiles, and the corners of the eaves are raised high, with a grand and wide posture.Couplets, stone carvings and steles abound, dotted among the ancient houses with a sense of honesty, which is a bit more quaint and scholarly than ordinary small villages.

Monk Peter touched the Buddhist beads. For some reason, this hometown, which he should be familiar with, suddenly gave him another feeling, a sense of alienation and uneasy strangeness.Even the quiet atmosphere of the small village seemed different. Probably because the long-distance travel is too tiring, Monk Peter thought, and subconsciously touched his bald head.He is not an agnostic, and his favorite sentence is: "Buddha does not throw dice." He went straight to the village committee in Weizhuang.Weizhuang Village Committee is located in a place called Dunsong Hall, which used to be a private school, but now it has been converted into several offices.When Monk Peter opened the door and entered, a group of cadre-like people were having a meeting, and one of them, an old man in a navy blue cadre uniform, held a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, talking freely.As soon as he saw Monk Peter, he quickly snuffed out the cigarette, put the pen back on his chest, got up and said to the others, "I have a guest to receive, you should do your research first, and I'll be back in a while."

He walked out, closed the door casually, motioned for Monk Peter to follow him to the corner of the corridor, then enthusiastically patted him on the shoulder, and looked him up and down, "I've been waiting for you for a long time, the little one left home and the old one came back, and the accent hasn't changed. Fading sideburns, the last three words are really suitable for you, ha ha." Monk Peter took a step back slowly and smiled faintly: "Uncle Dingguo, long time no see." This person is Wei Dingguo, the younger brother of the current head of the Wei clan, Wei Dingbang.Wei Dingguo is flexible in dealing with the world, has a serious heart in the world, and is very mobile.The patriarch Wei Dingbang handles matters related to the pen spirit within the clan, and Wei Dingguo handles all common affairs and foreign affairs.He was like a fish in water, and he became the nominal village chief of Weizhuang, and joined the party, and there is a saying in the Weizhuang family that "if you don't decide on internal affairs, ask the country, and if you don't decide on foreign affairs, ask the country."It's just that Monk Peter didn't like this uncle very much, and always felt that he didn't fit his temperament.

Wei Dingguo looked around to see that there was no one around, and said in a low voice, "Qinglian was born, is it true?" Monk Peter nodded slightly: "I saw it with my own eyes." Probably he had already called the family. Wei Dingguo glanced at him with some complaints: "What did you do? You have no organization and discipline, and you let it go without asking for instructions!" "Regarding this matter, Mr. Zeng has a few words to tell the patriarch. It is inconvenient for us juniors to say anything." Monk Peter touched him with a nail that was neither soft nor hard.

Wei Dingguo adjusted the black-rimmed glasses that supported his tortoiseshell legs, walked slowly to the stairs with his hands behind his back, and sighed: "The situation of the patriarch is not very good now..." Monk Peter was surprised: "What?" Wei Dingguo said: "My brother has been in poor condition since he was severely injured by my ineffective nephew. You know that. The condition has become more and more serious in recent years, and he refused to go to the provincial hospital for treatment. A while ago After being stimulated by Qin Yi's incident, now...cough." Monk Peter remained calm, and Wei Dingguo said again: "I have been busy with the ancient town tourism development project in our outer village for the past few years, and I have not been able to help with the affairs of the clan. Now that the Qinglian pen has appeared in the world, it is at this juncture Someone needs to take charge of the overall situation. If something happens to my brother, the Wei family will have no leader... oh." Seeing that Monk Peter had remained silent, he immediately changed the subject: "Are you planning to rest for a while, or go to see the patriarch immediately?" "Thank you, Uncle Dingguo, for your concern. I'll go see the patriarch first." "That's right, it's important. I'll arrange a car right away. We, uncle and nephew, will catch up slowly when we get back." Wei Dingguo said.Talking and walking, the two came to the gate of the village committee and stood side by side.Wei Dingguo took out his mobile phone and explained a few words, and suddenly said to Monk Peter for no reason: "Are you in your thirties now?" Monk Peter corrected him: "My little monk was ordained at the age of twenty-three, and it has been six years since he was twenty-nine years old, not thirty." Guizong, how about it? Do you want to try it too?" Monk Peter raised his eyebrows and rubbed the beads, as if something was touched in his heart. The return of the pen spirit to the clan is a major event in the Wei family every five years.Every five years, the Wei family will select members of this generation who are excellent in talent, learning, character, and ability, and allow them to enter the Tibetan Brush Pavilion, and at the same time temporarily liberate the brush spirits stored in the pavilion.If someone is talented enough and lucky enough, he will have a chance to be selected by Bi Ling. Not only will his strength rise by several levels, but he will also become a Bi official from then on, with an outstanding status. The age of these candidates is generally limited to fifteen to thirty years old, recommended by the older generation in the clan.Monk Peter is twenty-nine years old this year, and this is his last chance. From Wei Dingguo's tone, it seems that he intends to recommend him to participate. Monk Peter put his palms together calmly, bowed slightly and said, "Young monk has escaped into Buddhism, let this opportunity be given to young talents." "Nephew, you don't have to be too humble. In this generation, you are the most promising. If something like that hadn't happened... Well, since you are back now, don't miss it. In terms of candidates, the organization will also consider it." "Well..." Monk Peter just moved his lips, and finally shook his head and smiled, remaining silent.Wei Dingguo frowned and said nothing.The two stood silently for a while, a pure white Tucson drove over and stopped beside them.The driver poked his head out and called respectfully, "Mr. Wei." Wei Dingguo opened the door to let Monk Peter go up, and then said to the driver, "Neizhuang, ancestral hall." The driver nodded understandingly. Monk Peter was sitting in the car. When he saw Wei Dingguo in the rearview mirror holding up his mobile phone again, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart. This uncle always does this. Tucson let out a roar, turned seven times and eight times in Wei Zhuang's alley, drove for about ten minutes, and circled behind Wei Zhuang.The original stone road gradually turned into a dirt road, and the field of vision became narrower, as if drilling into the mountains behind Zhuangzi, surrounded by emerald green dense forests. Wei Zhuang is actually divided into two parts: inside and outside.Most of the people living in the outer villages are from the Webster family, and there are also retail households from other places.After entering the mountain from the outer village, he had to turn a few turns before entering Wei's inner village.This is the core of the Wei's family. The pen spirit and many secrets about the pen tomb are also stored here. Only the clan and the elders of the clan are allowed to live there.Neizhuang is surrounded by a circle of crystal-clear streams, and only a bamboo bridge connects it with the outside world. The car stopped in front of the bridge.Monk Peter got out of the car and walked across the bamboo bridge.As soon as he stepped into Neizhuang, he suddenly felt a wave of spiritual energy rising from the ground, spreading from the soles of his feet to his whole body in an instant, making him feel excited. The village is very quiet, dozens of tall tile-roofed houses are connected together, but it doesn't look crowded at all.The first thing he saw was the majestic Wei's Ancestral Hall at the entrance of the village.In the middle of the gate of the ancestral hall, there are three big characters "Fuyang Hall" written in block letters.Next to it is a pair of couplets: "Zhang Dan remonstrates, Bai Shou inscribes the stage", the allusion in the first couplet is Wei Siqian, and the second couplet is Wei Dan, the ancestor of Webster's in this line.Inside the inscribed stone of the couplet, the iron hook and silver markings are still clearly visible after several generations. The faint sound of reciting was brought by the wind in the distance. When Monk Peter heard it, an imperceptible smile appeared on his lips, as if returning to his boyhood.The private school that has only recently flourished in the city, Wei Zhuang has kept it for decades.The spirit of the pen is the ultimate in nature and learning, and the indulgence of talent, so in order to be able to control the spirit of the pen, these cultivation bases such as poetry, books, rituals and music are essential. A few years ago, a primary school was built in the village, and the children gathered in the ancestral hall to continue studying after class every day.However, Wei Zhuang's private school is not limited to reading classics, but has a much wider range of reading, from "Chu Ci" to Tang poetry, Song Ci, and even leisure books such as "Sou Shen Ji" and "Youyang Miscellaneous Zu", and even playing the piano, dancing, etc. Swords, Go and other subjects.There are different types of pen spirits. There are Qinglian pens who like elegant talents, and Lingyun pens who prefer tough ones. Therefore, Wei Zhuang cultivates different types of talents to adapt to different pen spirits. Monk Peter walked forward. Several clansmen in front of the ancestral hall knew that he was coming, so they didn't come forward to strike up a conversation, but just pointed to the entrance of the ancestral hall.In the main hall of the ancestral hall is the old painting of the owner of the pen tomb, which is exactly the same as the one Luo Zhongxia saw in Wei Shiran's home; beside it stands an ancient bluestone tablet with the inscription "The Spirit Tablet of the Ancestor Wei Gong".Looking up, you can see a dark gold horizontal plaque with the words "Wei's Ancestral Hall" on it, which is awe-inspiring and majestic. As soon as Monk Peter entered the threshold, he knelt down on the ground and kowtowed three times to the spirit tablet of the old painting.After knocking on the third one, before he could raise his head, a deep and steady voice suddenly came from his ear: "You are back." "I'm back." Monk Peter stood up calmly, patted the dust off his body, clasped his hands together, and looked at the person in front of him, "Amitabha, is the donor safe?" To be precise, there are two people in one car: an old man with a haggard face is sitting in a wheelchair, his right hand is still infused with fluid, and a shocking scar runs from between his eyebrows to his neck.If you observe carefully, you will find that this person's aging is not due to age, but due to long-term suffering from illness.Behind him was a girl in a nurse's uniform. She was holding the handle of the wheelchair with one hand and the shelf of the bottle with the other. The old man met Monk Peter's eyes, and the two of them fell into silence for a while. The ancestral hall was so quiet that the sound of medicine dripping from the infusion tube could be heard. "Follow me," said the old man solemnly.His voice was unusually loud, in stark contrast to his physical condition.The girl pushed the old man and turned around and walked towards the backyard of the ancestral hall. Monk Peter followed closely behind. His eyes behind the glasses were calmer than ever before, which was a bit unusual. They came to an elegant cubicle, in which there were only two sandalwood square chairs and an empty bookshelf.The girl straightened the wheelchair, just at that moment the bottle was also empty.So she pulled out the needle, carefully pasted it with a piece of adhesive tape, then lifted the bottle stand, bowed to Monk Peter, and closed the door before going out. There were only the two of them left in the house at this time.The old man stretched out his hand tremblingly, "There is no one else here, so you can say whatever you want." Monk Peter bowed, "Yes, Father."