He has lived in the mountains for twenty years, and more than one hundred people have studied with him. Linchuan county magistrate Hu Jun once heard of his reputation and invited him to the official residence. More than a year passed, and his heart was empty and he was in a trance. He went crazy, suddenly laughed and cried all day. One night, he tore up his monk's clothes, burned them and ran back to the provincial capital. He wandered alone in the market, often wearing a cloth hat and dragging a long-necked robe. When his shoes were worn out, he showed his heels, shook his sleeves and staggered. The children in the city followed him and laughed at him loudly. Nobody recognized him. His nephew recognized him and let him live in his own house. It was a long time before he really recovered.
Ren Shan is good at calligraphy, and he can form his own family under Wang Daling and Yan Lugong. His Wild Grass is very strange and powerful. He likes to paint plantains, strange rocks, flowers and trees, Yan Lu and pavilions in ink and wash, and his painting method is free and not bound by the painter's rules. People get his paintings and compete to collect them, which makes them very valuable. He can't finish two liters of wine, but he likes drinking. Poor scholar or citizen, the person who kills pigs and sells wine invites him to drink, and he goes; When I go, I am always drunk. I painted with dripping ink when I was drunk, and I didn't care much. People from the Eight Mountains communicate with monks outside Otawa. The young monk pestered him for painting, even pulling his sleeve and grabbing his skirt, but the villagers didn't refuse. Some friends of the scholar gave him property, but he didn't refuse it. However, the dignitaries wanted to exchange a few taels of silver for a rock painting, but they couldn't get it; Someone brought silk, and he accepted it and said, "I use them as materials for socks." Therefore, the paintings and calligraphy that the dignitaries asked him for were actually bought from poor scholars, who also killed pigs and sold wine in the mountains.
One day, he suddenly wrote a big word "dumb" on the door. Since then, he has never said a word to anyone, but prefers to laugh and drink. When someone offered him a drink, he shrank his neck, clapped his hands and smiled. I also like guessing games. I won the bet on wine, and I laughed too hard to speak. When I lost a lot, I hit the winner on the back with my fist and laughed until I was speechless. When you are drunk, you often sigh, sniffle and cry.
As a guest of Nanchang, I have always admired Badashan people, so I asked the abbot of Zhu Bei Temple to meet him at Shanshen Temple. On the (agreed) day, it was windy and raining heavily. I didn't expect the mountain man to go out. After a while, even the official came with his short message and said, "It's dawn for the mountain man." Surprised and delighted, I called a bamboo sedan chair and braved the rain to see him. (We) are holding hands and laughing. Living in a mountain temple at night, cutting candles and talking, Badashan people itch in their hearts and can't help but want to talk, so they use gestures to express themselves. Then I even asked for a writing brush to write on the table and answer until the candle burned out and the root of the candle was exposed. Even the duke told me that Badashan people have several volumes of poetry hidden in the bookcase, which are kept secret from the outside world. I have seen the words and other inscriptions on the paintings of mountain people, which are very quaint and often mixed with abstruse words, so I can't understand them all. Seeing several letters written by mountain people to Lian Gong is very touching, just like the style of Jin people. Badashan people have reddish faces, full chins and few beards. When I first became a monk, I took the name Xue, and later I changed my name to others, donkey house, book year, donkey man, and finally I took the name Badashanren. Lian Gong, a native of Hangzhou, is a descendant of Lingyan Temple. He is also good at calligraphy and poetry, and likes to associate with literati.
I think: There are many people in the world who know about the Eight Mountains, but no one really knows about them! Mountain people are angry, depressed and there are other reasons why they can't send themselves away. Like a boulder blocking the spring water, the wet cotton wool was caught in a fire and was helpless, so it suddenly went crazy and lost its voice, hiding the cynicism of the lower class. But some people look at him and say that he is a madman and a master-too shallow, their understanding of mountain people! What a pity! I live in a temple with a mountaineer. After midnight, it rained harder, the eaves were loud, and the wind shook the doors and windows. The bamboo forest around the house makes the same sound as the roar of an empty mountain tiger leopard, and the sound is so harsh that I can hardly sleep. If the villagers meet Fang Feng, Xie Ao, Wu Siqi and others, they will certainly hold each other and cry. Unfortunately, I'm not that kind of person.