Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Traditional stories - Beautiful prose
Beautiful prose
The gobbledygook in March was misprinted, but no one knew it.
The hills in the suburbs are covered with snow, and the rhododendrons and thin cherries on the mountainside are still naively waiting for spring. There is no doubt that in March, only I care about the debate between Xue Rui and the flower season, just as I care about whether the water of life can make life burn. However, when people are tired of living, can they afford a crab by replacing candles with Thai baht, wine and centuries-old rivers? So, I also boldly exhausted myself. After the speech killing meeting, I praised the timbre of western Western jackdaw: "How promising this world is!" Then go.
Until a strange collection of poems caught my eye and printed a cold poem that was still in the first edition for one year. (We are the descendants of poetry! The preface of this poem was written two years ago. If we go back to the prison term, it should be four years. If you restore the poem to the first pregnancy, it may be 68. So, I did the first happy thing in my life and bought all the collections decorated by three bookstores-forgive my recklessness! Strange poet, all lives that are not cherished should be proudly out of print!
However, when I turned all the collections to the last page at the same time and took the last love poem as the topic, the rain in the afternoon just crawled out of the curtain. March clouds toppled Shui Gu in February, just like a thin poem boat full of years of chaos. So, I smiled gently, and literature is really an endless exile! Those who are embarrassed come to confess and make their own vows without explanation, because this is the only place where criminals can complain slowly and then sentence themselves, and the only place where they would rather indulge than kill by mistake.
Forgive me for cutting the cold official clothes into clothes suitable for the sun, and cutting your silk embroidery into a safe hidden bag. Your skillful three-line rhyme, which is still windy, has become a patchwork picture in my hands. Quiet, rainy in March, I want to rob boxes and boxes, and then tear a towel handkerchief without sweat to wipe tears.
I've been drifting,
Because I was afraid of a imprisoned heart, finally, I came to the forest that has accumulated rain for many years in this area.
You give me back my heart that I have written to you for seven years. Nothing is easier than this.
Meet at the hospital gate and have a good meal. Your skirt still has a pungent astringency. This should be the most sterile date. Unfortunately, the bleak night makes you pale, as if the interpretation of life and death still lashes your thin and slender body. The highest record is to see 13 children die within one week. You often say that you have learned to leave your mind blank in the face of a patient's death and continue to be a person who doesn't care about eating, bathing and sleeping. In the early days, in your poem Egret, you asked heaven and earth to give you this white dress. In White and Red, you wrote in the Guandu manuscript a few years later:
I am afraid; be afraid
I am your body and clothes.
Non-wedding clothing
And quietly remembered: "Every time a patient is critically ill, we know it is useless, or we barely do some first aid work." Its purpose is not to save patients, but to comfort their families. "
You stop writing poetry, and your wrist is broken just to weave more beautiful lies to feed the desperate eyes of dying patients. It is better to be immersed in the beauty of lies and quietly forget the reality in the besieged city. You are getting thinner and taller, and your letters to me are getting shorter and shorter. I can't see that behind the trip to the emergency room and cancer ward, you are shivering and unwilling to discuss this rule about life.
Finally, we came to this moment. We met not to lie, but to save face. For seven years, we have woven our own lies in different ways, and we have indeed avoided reality without any harm. Only at this moment will you be honest with me, as if I were the only one who didn't want to hide your face. Then, how unfortunate it is that we can't be deceived by indifferent dreams, and how lucky it is to go to the meeting alone after the robbery.
Through the new park, all charming shadows wander in the black forest. Some people must be diligently looking for a midsummer night's dream, while others are imitating string-less fishing. We parted ways quietly, as if to visit two close friends, one was you seven years ago, and the other was me seven years ago. They seem to be dying in the intensive care unit, refusing to close their eyes and waiting for their relatives to identify the body.
"Why do you walk so fast?" You shout.
"cold! And it's going to rain. "
The lights are floating and the piano music sounds like a careless person kicking down a bucket of glass beads. The aperitif is served by a clean white waiter. Where did Jesus begin to eat his last supper?
"Bring it, what you want to give me."
You shyly gave me a heavy bag with a hesitant gesture.
"Can you open it now?" I asked cunningly.
"No, you can go back and have a look, not now."
"What is it? Books? Is it the Bible? ..... or ... really heavy! " I weighed the weight of seven years.
"You ... go back and see, the only and only requirement."
So, I pretend I don't know anything and continue to have dinner with you. I hate my sensitivity, just like I'm tired of always smiling on the needle felt. And I can't bear to kiss xiu, how precious this dinner is. I'll leave you space for the last time. Don't worry, I'll keep out the wind and rain, and you can speak slowly. The last letter was written like this: "In my mind, you have always been a noble soul, and I admire you. The longer I know you, the more I think you are the happy Shui Ze in my life.
"For you, I have suffered a lot, not to mention these. I am well aware of the difficulties between us and can't wait. I want to forget the world several times, but I always meet each other quietly at the end of my rope. This is a disappointment.
"I know, I can't be your partner and go with you. In this world where our eyes can see and our ears can hear, God will not put mine in your hands. These, I promised.
"For so many years, I have the honor to be your biggest sharer. Every time we meet, you pour your inner interests into my cup without stint. People like Joshua cut a branch of a vine from the valley of Ishcol, with a bunch of grapes hanging on it, and some pomegranates and figs ... You kept me from becoming a blind follower, and you inspired me to pursue supreme freedom. If one day I can finally find my land of Canaan, I have to thank you for giving me wings.
"Please believe that I respect your choice, and you have got the news. My stubbornness is not because I blame you for any reality, but because I am loyal and trustworthy to myself. You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful to me.
"You also wrote a poem. You know, the mill of creation is lonely and barren all the way Not a day goes by without my humble spirit to work and study here. If I have any desire for comfort, I will be abandoned. I used to walk on barren sand and chew coarse grains, but I also felt honey when I swallowed it. Maybe this is my Canaan.
"Don't fantasize about the future. If you meet a lovely sister, I should pray for you. You are really a likable person. Your cup should not be empty for me.
"Let's just say goodbye. Believe it or not, you can't bear a yoke. "
Let's drink bitter tea all night.
Tell stories for half your life.
We are all persistent and unrepentant.
Wandering as a destination
In your small and weak life, I recorded this twisted scripture, hoping that one day, you can explain it to me.
I have calculated that if the memory of words can be traced back to my hands, when we learn from the young monks and nuns begging in the city of Snail, begging in their city and returning to this place, I will provide you with the biggest and most beautiful things in the bowl, and you are not allowed to throw a piece of ice heart into my pot without preparation as before.
We really know each other because we usually drink water.
It was supposed to be a thin summer afternoon, and I still remember some wind fibers on my short cuffs. During the talk between classes, I went to the teahouse next to the courtyard of the College of Literature to pour a cup of wheat tea and lean against the brick arch to enjoy the scenery. A row of cherry blossoms is thin and green, which makes me miss the beauty of frozen lips of cherry blossoms in winter. Although sad, I would rather choose beautiful than straightforward. By the door wall, the old trees are shaded and dragging the wind; Grass green glass, butterflies shuttle in twos and threes. I sighed softly, feeling that there is a world with more than one name in front of me. Sometimes it is a lost poem, and sometimes it becomes a faint floating smoke. Sometimes it's regret-from the most exquisite thinking in one's life ... These staggered feathers are finally pecked by a bird's cry, and then another voice asks:
"Are you Jian Zheng?"
I'm nervous, you know, I often forget my name and refuse to admit myself in front of everyone. I must be at a loss that day! Hesitated for a long time before saying, "Yes." He asked in a very clumsy dialogue, "So, who are you?"
Knowing that you still learn Chinese to write poetry is like finding four cloves of clover in a place where there are three cloves of rice paste everywhere: "Yo, there is another tree hidden here!" " "I eat people when I am happy:" It turned out to be a junior, so let's call it a junior! "You don't want to reveal the distance from the school of science to the literary palace, which is more than two years longer than me. I feel very gentle and friendly, obviously being a brother next door, and finally deliberately bullying you: "I don't care about my age!" " "Your grin has greatly curbed my arrogance and careless temperament. I came back that afternoon, inexplicably, with a kind of pain and happiness that was tightly embraced by life. I think that arch must contain the memory of a world.
After all, I am only good at language hegemony, and I will write to you later, only to find out how many magnificent and tragic things are condensed under your thin body. You know how to hide your strength and bide your time. You are only willing to dig a small hole and let the contemplative life come to my eyes in a childlike manner. We don't talk about life, just talk about life. More often, we meet on the campus road, and we just say goodbye with a smile, but I firmly believe: "This person is a lonely person!" "
At that time, your face was slightly tilted because of latent lesions. Anyway, it's been cut. It's a chronic tumor. Don't worry about it. Only when you are exhausted will you be haggard. I told you to be careful. Your reply innocently said, "This morning, when I saw you floating away with a book in your arms, I suddenly felt embarrassed. Once I went to a verse class and went to class, I was surprised to see you lying on your desk tired. I remember meeting you unexpectedly in the middle of the night. You told me the general plan and went back to the dormitory. In the dark, your steps are firm, but you look pale after weakness and fatigue. I didn't greet you much, but you saw my embarrassment. " You still don't want to call me "Jian Zheng", which is too strong and strange, and you brought a small sword. You would rather solemnly write down "Min Wei", saying that with the word "people", it will be unimpeded and not taboo. I was deeply moved. You are covered with lotus flowers, and you cherish your life for me. what can I do for you? The poetic careless temperament in my character always puts me against the people closest to me. It is rare to have a quiet party. When he left, he inadvertently jumped out of the beast and the ungrateful raptor: "Take care, when we meet next time, it may be nine days and nine years." There is a trace of autumn on your quiet face, and you accept these opportunities with a broad mind. Your peace letter usually ends like this: "Write, talk and be happy day after day. See when you are free to chat. I am worried that one sentence will become a prophecy. " After that, I left the college, hungry day after day, drunk and starry night. Occasionally, I have an immortal poetic heart, so I write sad letters to my close friends. You always reply quickly: "I went out for three days and came back in the rain at night, and a small stack of letters appeared in front of the eaves." With your kind handwriting, I naturally like your letter ... I don't know if my condition is good or bad until I get a knife. In the past two months, I have been sticking to my own. One day, I know that I have to pay endless love to the endless flow of life. I think he went for a little sprint. If you are running, it must be the same. One step at a time is nothing more than practice. At this point, I am still deeply optimistic that I will come to Japan or get together. I hope that your career will be settled and I will learn the spirit. " We are deeply optimistic about the future, high-fiving several times, secretly encouraging ourselves by creating new styles, and disdaining to attack the tune. Anger makes a talent like me gush with ink, as if to fight with thousands of people. You see I'm abnormally thin, just tell me not to be too tired at night. I said aggrieved, "just live this once, I want to be overbearing!" " "You said earnestly," It's hard to enjoy life at the beginning of wisdom, and it's always been like this. "
You value my stubborn life more than your own. On that birthday, you went to find jade to send me, and there was a phoenix around a dragon net bottle (ah! Could it be a pure bottle of Guanyin? ) You said that the old man who buried the jade said that the texture of the jade was fake. On his way home, he passed Nanhai Road. You went to the lotus pond in the botanical garden and gently soaked this piece of jade ... You said, "Life always feels prosperous, but it doesn't touch mud!" "
The disease is playing tricks on you, your eyes begin to shed tears unconsciously, and it is often difficult to sleep in the middle of the night because of wiping tears. You said modestly that this is due to your karma. In the remote mountains where you live, you are like a virgin talking to life and death, living alone with a sick letter and not changing the trickle of handwriting: "One day I couldn't sleep well in the middle of the night and went out to the balcony. The sky is clear in the mountains and the moonlight falls on the ground. Suddenly, I saw my own shadow under the moon, thin and timid, very familiar, but obviously not' me' in the sun. I just thought about it, ah, yes-it's' I' in fairy tales! I was very touched when I looked at the figure, and then I slept with him. I realized that I want to be like Zhuang Zhou, between being sick and not being sick. "
Your second operation removed the sudden change of sarcoma in your right face. I gave you a string of amber rosary, which was given to me by a master in the temple, and suddenly I took it off. I am glad of the "sudden" image in my life. You put it on your wrist solemnly, close your eyes weakly and lie in the hospital bed. I am naive again, like a spy. I'll give you the antidote before you fight hand-to-hand on the battlefield, and then you can meet the poisonous arrow boldly and fearlessly. After your illness, you said, "I am gradually willing to restore all sadness, ignorance, great pain and ignorance to a simple optimism. I think this is the ultimate realm of life." You know me. "
The most precious and beautiful thing is the six months before I went to Hong Kong to study comparative literature. You write few poems, and you are only interested in devouring the classics of literary criticism. You joked that this is an "anti-American" project, but I must pay attention to it. It's not that you don't love beauty. I said, "No matter what beautiful woman in your family, she reads the original documents every day and treats a person like bean sprouts. This beautiful woman is simply a bastard!" " "You go back to Changyu Hospital every week to follow up the illness. We meet at noon, and when I get off work, you teach me to study. Often in a small coffee shop with a bustling market, you take out a stack of white paper and a pen. After a sip of cold black tea, you began to call me "michel foucault" in a hoarse and muddy voice. I quietly tuck my knees and listen, entering the most magnificent and feminine space that my heart can touch. Your words floated: "... now, writing has been associated with sacrifice." The examination and excavation of knowledge is usually transformed into the examination and excavation of creation. I am a rusty knife and treat you as a whetstone. I thought you said my life was too much and I wouldn't listen to you after all. In fact, you are a distant peace. For you, I must keep fighting.
Once, when the tea was cold, you showed me a yellowed black-and-white photo: a 10-year-old boy leaned against a desk rented by a comic shop, white and timid, with a mysterious attraction and a slightly burning sadness and joy in his eyes, quietly looking at the world. I exclaimed, "How beautiful! Is that you? " You said happily, "Yes!"
That time, you sent me back to work in the newspaper office, and along the brick road where kapok clapped and stamped ink, you sighed slightly: "Oh, my God! Give me time! "
After staying in Hong Kong for a year, you finally dropped out of school because of massive bleeding due to illness, and went straight to Linkou Changyu from Zhongzheng Airport. The doctor has issued a notice of critical illness. You wake up in a faint, watching the friendly classmates coming and going by the bed, or you are still waiting. When your parents are dead, your biological parents will be found soon. At that time, I couldn't eat. Sarcoma blocked my breath and I couldn't talk. When you came to see me, you got out of bed and took out a piece of delicate soap from the messy luggage. Many years ago, I said that bathing three times a day is more than happiness. You wrote on the paper: "Take more baths!" At that moment, which can only happen once a year, I want to kill you severely. I refused to see you again for half a year. I wanted to give you 7749 recitations, but I still couldn't read them all in the end. I suppressed every concern for you. There are only two dreams, one is that you pass through the air as a naked child, and I look up and disappear; Once you came with money and a clean face, I was overjoyed and asked, "Are you ready?" You just laughed and didn't answer. It took a long time to say, "You haven't started to get sick yet!" " "After waking up, I deeply hate myself. Isn't it enough that the great joy and beauty in this world have been deconstructed? Even in the illusion that you can be your own master, you should timidly disarm. After all, I'm a coward and I don't deserve to listen to a hero.
So, dear brothers, let's recall that afternoon. All dead ghosts and gods should sit quietly and listen to me.
That day, I borrowed a wheelchair and pushed you to the lake outside the hospital building. The autumn sunshine is scattered into a ball, the wheels are empty, and occasionally the grass on the brick embankment is beaten. I feel that your bones are like a long river sunset, and my floating thoughts are like lonely smoke in the desert. When we sit quietly by the lake, we are about to forget the existence of this life. Suddenly, a line of egrets jumped out of the lake bank in the distance, which was swept away and found nothing. The lake is still there, such as after the shipwreck, on the calm sea, there is no wind, and clouds are piled up on the horizon.
You asked me on paper, "How many?"
I replied, "Twelve." You can rest assured to nod.
Perhaps, there will never be a crooked scroll for you and me again. When you always conquer the sadness of life with the sadness of poetry, I try to disintegrate the cliff of fate with the cliff of novels; When I can't comfort you, or you no longer care about me, please remember that in our meager time, twelve egrets flew over the autumn lake.
Still like existentialism,
Or Zhuangzi,
Or a cup of afternoon tea,
Or two borrowed books.
You're not angry at all, or you're just angry at the moment. It seems that I have saved a huge sum of money from you, and I can use it whenever I squander it. Sometimes, when you lose your sense of proportion, you look like an unpredictable post from a passerby. I know it's time to apologize. I touched your locked forehead and said, "I'm flattered. You owe me." Don't be angry. Pay me interest if you are angry. "
I often have an appointment at breakfast or go to the market at night. Hot coffee, fried eggs on both sides, toast and three morning papers. You always give me sugar, a circle of white milk and an unrealistic yawn. I like the morning light, the smoke of newspapers and hot coffee better than anything on the plate. You are half-coaxed and half-deceived, saying that being thin is ugly. I said, "Hey, eat!" "If you really attack with egg slices, I will not hesitate to give you the most direct compliment:" Good performance today, remember small merits! " "
The morning always makes me happy, as if absorbing the power of sunrise, from the stillness of sleeping to the flow of fright, with the wildness of Mercedes-Benz and the desire to conquer. I was very hard on you in the morning. You look foggy. Listen to me draw every job with great interest and help you sort out the day's itinerary and the key points of the debate. The result of the battle may not be left to us, but we fought a beautiful battle together.
The city at night is even more eager to move. At night, I am usually a quiet mollusk, easy to admit mistakes, good at serving people and not arrogant. You are active in the dark time and space, and you walk around the market with my fierce spirit. A bowl of braised pork and grouper soup and boiled shrimp is also an unforgettable diet. I am good at peeling shrimp, picking fish without thorns and serving you. You can count my mistakes safely. I will be tough during the day. I always take advice and confess to you. When the market quietly retreated, it was getting late. I yawned for a long time, and you said, "Let's go! Go home. " You go your way and I'll go my way home. This city is undoubtedly the location of our huge building. We have to cross the long passage separately. You go back to your bedroom and I'll sleep on my sofa.
Then, we really need to use more tolerant laws to measure our trajectory. You have never given up the familiar tide of life because of me-whether it is the past tide, the present wave or the approaching wave; I don't need to change the established order for you-I have interpersonal and work procedures that I can't give up, and I have plans for the future. When we meet, we actually take the opportunity to release ourselves from the tortuous path and work together to find our own way with a big but improper gesture. There are still immature fairy tales in your tone of over forty; Why else do you always sneak up on me with a rubber band! ) My 20-and 7-year-old beauty will never forget her impudence when she was a child for the first time. I like to hold your big hand and chew your fingers one by one! Sometimes you are a child, sometimes you are an old man, sometimes I am a man, and sometimes I am an animal. With the city as the stage and pedestrians as the blind audience, we vividly played the role of being imprisoned in it. Those exhausting laws and regulations, which cannot be overturned, can always be temporarily forgotten. Although you complain that you have been turned upside down for a long time, I have never encouraged you-those burdens have long been a pride and will continue to be borne by you after we break up. If so, I hope that every time we get together, we can help you ride proudly through rational analysis and emotional counseling. I know very well that love will be thin, but as an open-minded person, after being whipped by love and love, morality will be the most expensive game-writing protocol in life. So you can expose yourself, often one night, talking about the north and south of the country where you grew up alone, talking about the mutual extinction of dreams and reality, talking about many dead women, talking about your wife and children who have gone away ... often seeing a tear that has not fallen for more than 30 years. Similarly, I can relive your long-lost ethics, which belongs to my father and my brother's wishes. Too feminine family environment, so that they need to constantly train themselves, make themselves gorgeous, imitate the authority of male society; The keynote of my life is a deadly lyric tradition, the kind of Sanqiu devil ten miles away, so I can build a lake with you, I can sing and dance, and look in the mirror by the water (ah! I must love my father after all. In fact, the cultivation and expansion of every life needs to suck the fruits of all kinds of love, and people always have the inherent potential to recreate different dimensions. You have been modified by me unconsciously, and pronounced according to the image in my heart; Just as I am willing to bend over for you, after drinking, I will knead myself into a wide-mouthed jar to hold your broken pieces; Any relationship, if it can't inspire another role and rules to make up for the cliff between fantasy and reality, will not be cherished by me after all.
So, we argued about marriage rationally.
You said that the love that has never rested will inevitably end in a bleak mood. Women didn't love before, but found that the more they loved, the more they got stuck in the mud. I said, this is deprivation, and there is an invisible hand hidden in love. What do you say if we get married? I asked, what do you think of me? Doesn't the lock of falling in love scare you? You said that I am not equal to a woman in your mind. I belong to a transparent neutrality-like day and night, sometimes as clear as a man, and sometimes as struggling as a woman. You can fully enjoy telling, from the most beautiful male peak to the gentlest female face (you are sometimes cautious like a handmaid). I am very glad of your statement, which means that a person has diversified his inner life. And I began to describe the love that we have found another way for many years, and now it is like a track (please note that people who give up the secular track usually have to spend more effort to lead themselves, and there is no possibility of turning back). We gained a nameless birthright and lived in a room that could not be built. I don't ask you to be my subordinate, just as I am tired of being part of anyone. You can get my irrigation without giving up anything. I also have unspeakable stubbornness, but I can be taken care of by you. We got together actively and had to leave, so we turned the morning light we could have into every minute of excitement. If love is the most beautiful study, I am willing to testify, it is because we have learned that giving is better than taking, freedom is better than collecting, transcendence is better than staying together, and life morality is better than secular living. I think you know that marriage is just an ark in the sea of love. If we are willing to float in the sea with a fork, why do we long for a short sunny day-let's ride the wind and waves to the end! I made a bet. Dare you make a decision?
Do we need another shell? Let the well-known rules of the game in the shell gradually devour our rules. With my restless personality, it is difficult to avoid depriving you layer by layer; With your deep-rooted male role, you will eventually interfere with me gradually. Because I am deeply pessimistic, marriage also has a magnificent sense of justice, but it is not suitable for me-I like experiments and I am easily overthrown, so I have been breaking up.
I'd rather imagine this city as an uninhabited wilderness. That night, I gained weight on the flower stand in the square in front of the building. You grabbed me, carried me on your shoulder and walked two blocks humming. If there are internal injuries after defeat, internal injuries are also arrogance. One day, when I left in the middle of the night, my heart was pounding with the sadness of the surging river, and I couldn't bear to blame you for anything. I just want to walk through the long night alone. You said it was windy. Take off my coat, put me on the bus, wave to me frequently at the bus stop, and then walk to the street where you are waiting alone. At that moment, I was on tenterhooks again and wanted to stab myself in the heart, so I got off at the next stop and tried my best. I suddenly blindfolded you and bit your ear hard: "Don't move!" "You turned around and looked at me, and your stunned expression turned into an indulgent laugh. I said, I won.
In the borrowed time and space, we sat on the most messy tent wall in the city, smoking inexplicable cigarettes and drinking cold wine. I put the ash into your shoes and asked:
"Well, you don't make it clear. What are the benefits of marrying you? "
You take off your shoes, knock out the ashes and say, "Three meals a day, two fancy clothes, and you can use your pocket money."
I put the ash in again: "What if I'm full?"
You put your arm around my neck and said, "Well, I'll read your book-play it again!" " "
I put the ash in again.
I drew a single knife at random.
Go on a trip and cover the moon with snowflakes
Silent moonlit night
Only pigeons fly rustling.
What brings you here?
Clearly lock you in a dreamland and let you write poems leisurely after studying the moon, the sun and the spring and autumn. However, you flew over Guanling and came to me before it was too late, saying, "You have been wandering for half your life, and it rains every time."
I can only say, "All right, sit down!"
I've heard about Shanmeng and the water loss in your life. After dinner, your life experience reminds me of what kind of people can change color with Qiushui and what kind of feelings can change everything from steel to softness. I seem to see that when you were young, you had imagined a mirage for yourself. You are willing to be a defender and dedicate your heart to the last day in history.
Then, please don't blame there are always meteors in life. Even if Dahua lends you a cinnabar imperial pen, you will not live up to your sad fate after all. Those who are knocked down would rather choke than drag out an ignoble existence. Seeing you this time, although your eyes are still not clear, you have passed the reed Watari Wataru and lived leisurely. You have to vomit and feed every day. How can you change your mind if you don't vomit and feed?
Think of me as your hometown that you can't go back to, hang my thoughts on the dogwood on September 9, and the storm in late spring this year. These are all yours. One day, I will pack my bags and come to your side. But you have to promise to fill the dream first, and then cut the laurel tree into pillars to lay the foundation stone for the rolling stone. Don't look back at me and let me hear the first cock crow in the afterlife.
You left a key when you left, saying that in case you got lost on the moon, I could open the cabin in your book. I'll give you the ring. Although I am scattered, there is always a red sun guarding you, waiting for the mountains in the middle of the night.
You said, "I will burn incense in the temple, like an ordinary woman."
That day, I went to Bishanyan alone to burn incense for you, but I didn't say anything.
That's it. The four seasons cycle and never stop. I'm a little cold when rehearsing for my half-heartedness. Maybe I should find pine needles. One day, I may have to correct and conquer for myself.
If the sky in April refuses to tear, how to start with the clothes in May?
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