Chapter 342: Poet Buddha

On the sky screen, the scene became ethereal.

Wang Wei sat alone in front of a thatched cottage in the mountains, in front of him was a pot of tea, a qin, and a volume of books.

The sunset set, the afterglow spilled on him, and there was no joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness on his face, only a kind of peace.

He picked up his brush and wrote a poem, the handwriting as thin as bamboo—

【"Zhongnan Villa"】

【In middle age, I quite liked the Dao, and in my later years, I made my home at the foot of the Southern Mountains.】

【When the mood strikes, I go alone, the wonderful things are known only to myself.】

【Walking to where the water ends, sitting and watching the clouds rise.】

【Accidentally meeting an old man in the forest, laughing and talking without a return date.】

"Walking to where the water ends, sitting and watching the clouds rise."

Li Shimin recited these two lines, his voice so light as if afraid of disturbing something.

"Reading these two lines, I suddenly feel... nothing is important anymore."

Liu Che: "Walked to the end of the water, no road, then sit down and watch the clouds."

"This is not giving up; this is another kind of persistence—persisting in not being anxious, persisting in not panicking."

Liu Xiu: "These two lines of poetry are a portrayal of Wang Wei's life."

"He doesn't force it, doesn't obsess, follows the situation, lets nature take its course."

Liu Bang said deeply for once: "I have never 'sat and watched the clouds rise' in my life."

"Always running, always fighting, always unable to stop."

Ying Zheng did not comment, but his gaze fell on those two lines of poetry and did not move away for a long time.

Zhuge Liang's comment drifted out—

【Comment from Zhuge Liang, Three Kingdoms】

"Walking to where the water ends, sitting and watching the clouds rise"—

This is not avoidance, it is a realm.

The water ends, the road is gone, most people would be anxious, would panic.

But Wang Wei doesn't; he sits down and watches the clouds.

Because he knows that when the clouds rise, the water will come again.

This is a trust in the laws of heaven and earth.

【Comment from Sima Yi, Three Kingdoms】

Wang Wei doesn't believe in Buddha; he believes in the rhythm of heaven and earth.

He knows that all things have cycles, so he is not in a hurry.

【Comment from Cao Cao, Three Kingdoms】

I, Cao Cao, fought all my life and never dared to "sit and watch the clouds rise." Because if I stop, others will catch up.

【Comment from Cao Zhi, Three Kingdoms】

Father, you can try it too.

Occasionally stop and watch the clouds.

【Comment from Cao Cao, Three Kingdoms】

Wait until I unify the world.

Cao Zhi didn't speak again—because he knew that his father would not stop in this life.

On the sky screen appeared Wang Wei's representative Zen poem—

【"Deer Fence"】

【Empty mountain, no people seen, but human voices are heard.】

【The reflected light enters the deep forest, shining again on the green moss.】

Liu Che read it once and frowned: "Just these four lines? Finished writing?"

Liu Xiu laughed: "Martial Ancestor, don't complain about it being short; these four lines are enough."

Li Shimin explained: "'Empty mountain, no people seen'—the mountain is empty, there is no one."

"'But human voices are heard'—but you can hear people talking."

"This is writing about a feeling: ethereal, quiet, but with the breath of the human world."

"The last two lines write about the sunset shining into the deep forest, shining on the green moss."

"The sense of imagery is extremely strong, but there is no character, only light, mountains, forests, and moss."

"This is Wang Wei's Zen meaning—the person is outside the painting, the heart is in the mountains."

Liu Bang was stunned listening:

"Li Erfeng, when did you become so knowledgeable about poetry?"

Li Shimin laughed: "Your Majesty, watching the sky screen ranking these few days, I have also learned a lot."

On the sky screen, golden light flowed, and Su Shi's evaluation appeared before everyone's eyes—

【Su Shi's eternal conclusion: Savoring Moqi's poetry, there is painting in poetry; observing Moqi's painting, there is poetry in painting.】

Liu Che recited this sentence and nodded: "One sentence, deified."

"'There is painting in poetry'—these four words have been Wang Wei's exclusive label ever since."

Liu Xiu sighed: "Su Shi, although he was hundreds of years later than Wang Wei, he truly understood Wang Wei."

The sky screen continued to appear—

【Later literary conclusion: Li Bai is the Poet Immortal, Du Fu is the Poet Sage, Wang Wei is the Poet Buddha; the three stand together, supporting half of the prosperous Tang poetic world.】

Liu Bang looked at these three lines and suddenly laughed: "Immortal, Sage, Buddha."

"Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei—three people, three realms."

"Immortal is unrestrained, Sage is heavy, Buddha is ethereal."

"The prosperous Tang had these three people, enough."

The golden light on the sky screen began to condense, and the final reward terms appeared—

【In view of Wang Wei's four perfections in poetry, calligraphy, painting, and music, pioneering the Zen landscape poetry school, and defining the tone of Chinese aesthetics for a thousand years, he is specially rewarded: 18 years of lifespan.】

"Eighteen years?"

Liu Bang's eyes widened. "Bai Juyi was fifteen years before, Wang Wei eighteen years, three more years?"

Gu Shanhe explained: "Wang Wei's versatility and pioneering nature are unique in the poetic world."

"Four perfections in poetry, calligraphy, painting, and music, the only one in history."

"This reward is a comprehensive consideration."

Liu Che: "And he experienced the An Lushan Rebellion, life had many hardships."

"Giving three more years is reasonable."

Liu Xiu laughed: "How long did Wang Wei live??"

"Adding eighteen years, almost eighty. Enough for him to paint more paintings and write more poems."

The comment section, the "Alliance of Resentful Emperors" went online on time—

【Comment from Hu Hai, Second Emperor of Qin】

Eighteen years?!

I really can't stand it!

A poet, why does he deserve this?!

【Comment from Zhao Ji, Emperor Huizong of Song】

Brother Hu Hai, I feel the same.

Is my artistic achievement not worth eighteen years?

The ones who retorted to them this time were the Three Kingdoms figures.

【Comment from Cao Cao, Three Kingdoms】

Hu Hai, you incompetent emperor who lost the Great Qin, what face do you have to ask for a reward?

【Comment from Liu Bei, Three Kingdoms】

Zhao Ji, you painted away half of the Great Song's territory, and you still want a reward?

【Comment from Sun Quan, Three Kingdoms】

You two, let me say a fair word—

You should just watch quietly and stop coming out to embarrass yourselves.

Hu Hai and Zhao Ji's comments disappeared at the same time.

Qianlong popped up again—

My poetry, calligraphy, and painting, which one is worse than Wang Wei's? I should also get eighteen years!

Cao Cao's comment flew over first—

【Comment from Cao Cao, Three Kingdoms】

Qianlong, your calligraphy is called "Guange style," rigid and stiff;

Your painting is called "Imperial Inscription Painting," all ghostwritten by others;

Your poetry... I don't want to talk about it.

【Comment from Cao Zhi, Three Kingdoms】

Father, you don't want to talk about it, I will—

Among Qianlong's forty thousand poems, there isn't a single line that can compare to Wang Wei's.

【Comment from Zhang Fei, Three Kingdoms】

I, Zhang, want to say a fair word today—

Qianlong, your calligraphy is not even as good as mine!

【Comment from Guan Yu, Three Kingdoms】: Third Brother, you're bragging a bit too much.

【Comment from Zhang Fei, Three Kingdoms】: Second Brother, I'm telling the truth!

The comment section was in chaos, and Qianlong disappeared again.

The golden light on the sky screen began to converge, and Wang Wei's image gradually faded.

The last thing left on the sky screen was his back sitting alone in the mountains—

In front of him was a valley shrouded in clouds and mist, and in the distance were peaks looming.

No expression, no action, just sitting there, as if to merge with the mountains and rivers.

【Sky Screen Conclusion: Prosperous Tang landscape, thousand-year Poet Buddha.】

【Not like Li Bai's earth-shattering, not like Du Fu's deep and frustrated.】

【He used a brush to paint the gentlest outline of China's mountains and rivers;】

【With a Zen heart, he guarded the most transparent original truth of a scholar.】

【Ranking the Ten Great Poets in History, Number Five—Wang Wei, well-deserved.】

【Number Four will be revealed in three days, please look forward to it.】

In the villa, the five people were silent for a moment.

Liu Bang was the first to speak: "I've decided, from now on, when I'm in a bad mood, I'll read Wang Wei's poems."

Liu Che laughed: "Your Majesty, can you understand them?"

Liu Bang stared: "I can't understand them, but I can feel them."

"('Walking to where the water ends, sitting and watching the clouds rise')—although I don't know what it means, reading it makes me feel... comfortable."

Gu Shanhe checked the time,

"Your Majesties, the hot pot isn't finished yet, continue?"

Liu Bang was the first to pick up his chopsticks: "Continue, continue!"

"I was just watching the sky screen, the lamb got cold."

Liu Che was speechless: "Your Majesty, you can swish new ones."

"I can't bear to waste it!"

The five people sat around again, the soup in the copper pot was still bubbling, and the fragrance of lamb filled the air again.

The golden light of the sky screen completely dissipated, but Wang Wei's poems had already remained in everyone's heart.

Perhaps, this is Wang Wei's charm—

Not intense, not ostentatious, but as long as you read it once, you will never forget it.

Just like "Walking to where the water ends, sitting and watching the clouds rise."

Simple ten characters, enough for people to savor for a lifetime.

... ===== CHAPTER 343 =====