Qingyan Shenjian

Deep house, old inkstone, tea. Listening to the immortal's sermon in concentration, sitting and looking at the divine bones and the five elements; dipping light ink from pine smoke in front of the case, and watching the young man in white hang his wrist to rub ink, using a pair of bright mirrors to stop the water in his heart, and write down all the human affairs in the south of the Yangtze River.