If you think life is too hard, why not read yellow?

50 years old, life has just begun, this sentence is Huang said.

I worked hard to become famous in the first half of my life. After all, draw water with a sieve, get involved in a natural and man-made disaster, and go to jail. When he got out of prison, he was over half a year old. He began to practice, and while practicing, he became a Taoist idiot.

What is a big idiot?

Like us, Huang lived in society for the first half of his life and was not very successful. In middle age, I barely became a small official.

And it's not safe to be a small official. He hasn't been in prison long. By the time he came out, it was already the year of know life.

Looking back on this life, most of it is absurd, but I have been addicted to it for half my life. As Su Dongpo said, "Laughing all your life makes your mouth busy, and your middle-aged career turns ridiculous." Not a little idiot, but a big idiot.

Huang finally understands that life is a dream, and the greatest success is to spend your life in the way you like.

He wandered around the mountains and saw the natural scenery, carrying a bag with a pen and paper, and stopped to write and draw when he met the beautiful scenery, becoming the one who just wanted to be himself.

Being yourself and spending a short life in the way you like is the greatest success in life.

1269, Huang, born in Changshu, Jiangsu. Huang Lao of Pingyang, whose parents died early, lived in Changshu. Seeing that he was alone, he took him as his stepson and changed his surname to Huang. Wang Zi has been waiting for a long time.

Huang was very clever when he was a child. He has read many books and learned many classics. He reads everything. Zhong Sicheng's Ghost Book says, "What is widely known does not need decoration. As for things in the world, I know everything; Small to skill, omnipotent; Long words and short songs, just write. Everyone is respected by the teacher. Especially painting. "

After studying hard for ten years, I am young and promising, and naturally want to be the first.

But although he is brilliant, he has no official career. He kept taking exams and failed all the time. It was not until he was in his forties that he became a bookkeeper in the Lian Fang Department of West Zhejiang.

The boss Zhang Lu is a corrupt official.

Finally, nine people died because of corruption and land grabbing. Zhang Lu was arrested and Huang was jailed.

When I came out, I was fifty years old.

The day he came out, he stared at the sky. Suddenly, he felt that life was like duckweed floating between heaven and earth, as short as a blink of an eye. Suddenly, it dawned on him that everything before was a cloud.

I am Huang.

Maybe the day he came out, the sky was blue, a white cloud floated by, and a bird flew over his head, leaving only a shadow. His hair is gray and half of his body is buried in the soil.

Huang goes home, paints, and occasionally goes out to look at the sky outside. I gave myself a road number: big idiot.

Since then, he has become a Taoist priest.

Give up one's life and forget one's death and say, "Idiot, ignorance is ignorance."

Perhaps because he saw his first half of life as if he were walking in the world with his eyes closed, he didn't see the truth of life, so he called himself a Taoist idiot. This is also because he saw through the falsehood of what he did in the first half of his life, so he was alert to his life. From now on, he will be a sober person, do what he wants and do what he likes.

After Huang became a big idiot, he didn't ask about politics and many things in the world. He often lingers in the nature of green mountains and green waters.

When he entered Huang, he naturally didn't have to grovel to please his boss as he did in officialdom. He needs all kinds of operations to maintain his relationship with people from all walks of life. He began to be himself. In other words, Huang is no longer the yellow in others' eyes, but the yellow in his heart.

Huang is free and easy, and loves mountains and rivers.

When I lived in seclusion in Changshu, I liked to climb to the mountain with a pot of wine and sit down with a big stone. I drank in front of the opposite mountain and watched it while drinking. I don't know how long it took. He threw the pot of wine into the river, then turned and left, and a little splash appeared on the river.

That handsome back has become the day when I left Huang. I often stay on the mountain, looking at a pile of stones, as if I were looking at some rare treasures, and sometimes I stay for hours.

I don't know how long it has been like this, maybe many years, and since then life has never been separated from mountains and rivers.

It is said that one night, there were few moon stars and insects were chirping in the weeds in the corner. Huang went out by boat from the west gate and rowed slowly around the mountain.

Rowing, Huang tied his bottle to the stern with a rope and let it walk in the water with the boat.

When he came back, he came to the tomb of Qi Nv. He pulled at the rope to get the hip flask back, but it broke when he pulled hard.

Huang is not annoyed. He clapped his hands and laughed. Huang's laughter can be seen everywhere in the silent valley, where only insects are singing. Everyone who heard it thought it was a fairy.

He sat in the barren hills and wild forests all day, sitting in some strange stones. Or sit and watch the waves at the intersection of the river and the sea, even if the storm comes, he doesn't care.

At the age of 50, he made a living by divining others in Songjiang, associating with the painter Cao, and began to learn landscape painting.

Because he has been in the mountains for a long time, keeping company with strange rocks and listening to the Songtao River, his understanding of mountains and rivers has his own artistic conception, so he is often unique when writing.

He likes to walk aimlessly in the mountains and see the beautiful scenery, and he has a sense of painting in his heart. He took out a pen and paper from the bag behind him and began to draw. When he finished, he took the painting to the market to sell. After selling the money, he changed the wine and drinks, and bought some pens, ink, paper and inkstones.

In the seventh year of the Yuan Dynasty (A.D. 1347), Huang was 79 years old. He and his younger brother swam to the Fuchun River in vain, only to see that the Fuchun River was crystal clear, and fishermen on the river sang late. Huang decided to stay in Fuyang.

Although my brother is useless, he is also worried about his health, but he is afraid that he will be old and weak and no one will take care of him. He wants to travel with him, but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to paint quietly by Fuchun River.

This is where the legend of Huang began.

The woodcutter's house where Huang lives is surrounded by mountains on three sides and a river on one side. Looking around, the mountains are undulating, the trees are lush, and the river is like practice. The whole Fuchun River has a panoramic view.

After staying at the woodcutter's house, Huang wore bamboo poles and shoes every day, went out in the morning and walked slowly along Fuchun River. Every day, rain or shine, he goes out on time and begins to paint the beautiful scenery of Lu Yu.

Every once in a while, he gives the woodcutter a picture with a big idiot's signature on it. He asked the woodcutter to take it to the street and sell it.

An 80-year-old man should have spent his old age peacefully, but Huang is very busy, but he is not busy making money. He didn't want the money to sell the painting, so he gave it to the villagers.

Some people ignore the explanation: you are 80 years old, why are you so busy, and you don't want to make money? What are you doing?

For what? For inner joy and peace.

At the age of 80, he began to paint Fuchun Mountain, with dozens of peaks and hundreds of trees in Fuchun River. Finally, he showed all these landscapes on a picture scroll.

The painting took him four years, but it actually took him his whole life.

After painting, looking at the finished Fuchun Shan Jutu, Huang's eyes were full of peace, perhaps not because he didn't know the value of the painting, but because he knew that all the wealth in life was just passing away, and he just did what he had to do and what he liked.

So when my brother looked for him, he wrote the last line on the painting with a wave of his hand, and then gave it to his brother, who was useless, rich and vain, and he didn't care.

This is the real free and easy, do what you like, and you can completely ignore the value geometry of the result after doing it, because the real wealth in his heart is mountains, water, nature and himself.

1596, Dong Qichang, a famous painter in Ming Dynasty, won Fuchun Shan Jutu. When I opened it, it was more than ten meters long and the picture was overwhelming.

Dong Qichang shout:

Zou once said:

Since then, it has been in the hands of collector Wu. After Wu's death, the painting was passed on to his son. Wu Wenqing regarded this painting as life and built Fuchunxuan Collection alone. Put it on the pillow when sleeping, put it on the seat when eating, and take this picture with you when eating and sleeping. When he died, he wanted to take this painting to the underworld and keep it with him forever. He asked his family to burn it for him.

Fuchun Shan Jutu has also become two pieces, one is the remaining mountain map, the other is the useless teacher's paper, and in the following 300 years, the two pieces have been handed down separately. The man who painted this picture is an old man named Huang.

Although Huang left, he left the world with not only paintings, but also an attitude towards life.

Everyone who lives in this world has many choices. You can choose to meet the expectations of others and do what others want you to do, so as to gain money and power. You can also choose to live your life in the way you like. You may have no money or power, but at least you are happy in your heart.

However, in this troubled world, we are so easy to lose ourselves. If we are not careful, we will get lost. We stare at the existing matter and forget that life itself is the most important thing. We often walk on the road that others expect, but forget what we really want. We often see what others want us to pursue, but forget what we really like.

I like Mr. Jiang Yang's words very much. Life is your own and has nothing to do with others. The world belongs to you and has nothing to do with others.

I hope everyone can finally be himself, do what he likes and live the life he wants. No matter what other people expect and demand, remember that everyone's soul has its own way to accomplish it. We are not responsible for other people's souls, nor can we be responsible for others.

Wen | Little Emperor, I come from the mountains and want to go back to the mountains!