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His father had been a dealer in gold; his mother the only child of a jade dealer whose estate and legacy he had left her with a curse, at her not having been the son he wanted.
Ling had grown in a house where riches did away with insecurities. That existence, carefully tended, had turned him timid: When he reached fifteen years his father found him a bride and he chose the greatest beauty since the idea of happiness she comment wang fo fut sauve provide his son was a consolation to an age when night had turned to no purpose but sleep.
Ling loved that woman of limpid heart just as one might love a mirror never blemished by steam or an amulet that never failed to protect. He went to the tea houses as was the fashion and favoured, moderately, dancers and acrobats. The old man had drunk in order to put himself in a state that permitted him the ability to capture in paint—the drunk.
His head inclined to one side as if comment wang fo fut sauve better judge the distance between his hand and his cup.
How Wang-Fo Was Saved - IMDb
The rice wine untied the tongue of that ancient and taciturn artisan; that night, Wang talked as if the silence were a wall and his words destined to spread it with colour. The exquisite rose stains of spilled wine on the tablecloths like withered flower petals.
A gust of wind blew open a window and the storm penetrated the room. They walked together, Ling carried a lantern whose light projected a surprising flash and sparkle in the puddles and that night Ling realized comment wang fo fut sauve astonishment that the walls of his house were no longer the red of cinnabar as he believed but rather the colour of an orange that has begun to rot.
He put the old man to bed with respect in the room his own parents had died.
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No woman ever seemed unreal enough to model but Ling could be, since he was not a woman. No youth comment wang fo fut sauve his time was unreal enough to model but Ling sent his wife to pose with bow and arrow under the plum tree in the garden.
One morning they woke to find her hung by her neck from the plum tree in full rosen bloom: His disciple, Ling, ground his paints and the job required such application that he forgot to shed tears.
Ling eventually sold his slaves, his jade and the koi fish of his fountain to provide his master jars of violet paint brought all the way from the Comment wang fo fut sauve.
When the house was emptied they left and Ling closed the doors to his past.
Their reputation preceded them in the villages, the verge, the thresholds of the fortified castles and beneath the lintels of the temples where refuged the restless peregrines at the fall of dusk. The bumpkins turned up to supplicate he paint them a guardian dog and the lords comment wang fo fut sauve ask he paint them soldiers.
The monks honoured him as a wise man while the people feared him like a witch. Wang was pleased by these differences of opinion that allowed him to study the different expressions of gratitude, fear and veneration.
How Wang Fô was saved
Ling begged their daily food, watched over the sleep of his teacher and comment wang fo fut sauve advantage of his euphoria to massage his feet. As the morning threatened and his master still slept he would go out to look for timid landscape behind the thicket or reed.
When he was sad and talked of his old age Ling would smile and point to the robust trunk of an old Oak.