Early this morning, I picked up an idle book and read it, and I didn't want to reread the articles in the Chinese textbook when I was in elementary school.

For the beauty of words, looking back after 30 years, I suddenly feel embarrassed.

The morning sun shines through the half-hidden window, shining on the scroll, and there is a long-lost flow of thoughts—

Carefully calculated, Buyi has accumulated more than 2 million words before and after these years (400,000 completed copies of "The Way Home", 1.4 million completed balls of "Detective Nine Records", nearly 200,000 words of "Beiting Strange Case" were serialized, and nearly 100,000 words of "New Time Notes" were ...... It stands to reason that for a self-proclaimed amateur lover of literature, the sudden discovery that he has written so much that he can brag about it until now, has been in a similar mood.

The expansion came to an abrupt halt -

The articles I saw were Zhu Ziqing's "Back" and "Moonlight on the Lotus Pond", one with 1321 words and the other with 1339 words......

Holding the scroll, by the morning sun, smelling the fragrance of ink, looking at a line, and then having an epiphany: good text, there is no need for too many words!

On the contrary, no matter how many words there are, it may not be able to write a good essay.

2 million may be just a 2,000-word practice of beautiful writing! What are the advantages and losses?

These two articles are specially excerpted and appreciated with you, and the simplicity of literature should be revisited.

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"Back" - Author: Zhu Ziqing

It's been more than two years since I saw my father, and the last thing I can forget is his back. That winter, my grandmother died, and my father's messenger was handed over, so I went from BJ to Xuzhou, planning to follow my father home for the funeral. When I went to Xuzhou to see my father, I saw the mess in the courtyard, and I thought of my grandmother, and I couldn't help but shed tears. The father said, "This is the case, don't be sad, fortunately, there is no end to the world!"

When he went home and sold his gifts, his father paid off the deficit and borrowed money for the funeral. These days, the situation at home is very bleak, half for the funeral, half for the father's leisure. After the funeral, my father was going to Nanjing to work, and I was going back to BJ to study, so we walked together.

When I arrived in Nanjing, I had a friend who made an appointment to go for a tour and stayed for one day; the next day, I had to cross the river to Pukou in the morning and get on the bus in the afternoon to go north. Because my father was busy with business, he had already decided not to send me, so he asked a familiar tea room in the hotel to accompany me. He repeatedly instructed the teahouse, very carefully. But he was finally not at ease, afraid that the tea room would not be suitable, and hesitated for a while. Actually, I was 20 years old at the time, and BJ had already been back and forth two or three times, so it didn't matter. He hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to send me himself. I tried to persuade him two or three times that he didn't have to go, but he just said, "It doesn't matter, they can't go!"

We crossed the river and entered the station. I bought the ticket and he was busy taking care of the luggage. There was too much luggage, and I had to tip the porter before I could get there. And he busied himself with them about the price. I was so clever at the time, I always felt that he didn't speak very beautifully, and I had to interject myself. But he finally agreed on the price and gave me a ride. He secured me a chair against the door, and I laid out the purple coat he had made for me. He told me to be careful on the road, to be vigilant at night, and not to get cold. He also asked the teahouse to take good care of me. I laughed in my heart at his detour, they only knew money, and it was for nothing to trust them! And can't a man of my age take care of himself? Alas, now that I think about it, I was so clever then!

I said, "Daddy, let's go." He looked out of the car and said, "I'll buy some oranges." You're right here, don't move. "I saw a couple of vendors waiting outside the fence on the platform over there. When you get to the platform, you have to cross the railroad track, and you have to jump down and climb up again. My father was a fat man, so it was naturally a bit of trouble to walk over. I was going to go, but he refused, so I had to let him go. I saw him wearing a black cloth hat, a black cloth coat, and a dark blue cotton robe, staggering to the side of the railway, and slowly leaning down, it was not too difficult. But it was not easy for him to cross the railroad and climb up to the platform over there. He climbed on it with his hands and retracted his feet again, and his fat body leaned slightly to the left, showing the appearance of effort. Then I saw his back, and my tears quickly flowed. I quickly wiped away my tears, afraid that he would see it, and I was afraid that others would see it. When I looked out again, he had already hugged the scarlet orange and looked back. When crossing the railway, he first scattered the oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly, and then picked them up and walked. When I got here, I hurried to pick him up. He walked to the car with me and put the oranges on my fur coat. So I threw the dirt on my coat, and with a very relaxed heart, and after a while said, "I'm leaving; He walked a few steps, looked back at me, and said, "Go in, there's no one inside." "When his back blended in with the people who came and went, and I couldn't find it anymore, I came in and sat down, and my tears came again.

In recent years, my father and I have been running from place to place, and the situation at home has been getting worse day by day. He went out to earn a living as a young man, supported him alone, and did many great things. He was so sad that he couldn't help himself. If you are depressed, you will naturally have to send it out, and family trivialities will often trigger his anger. He treated me differently than he used to be. But in the last two years, he finally forgot about my badness, just thinking about me and my son. When I came north, he wrote me a letter in which he said, "I am in good health, but my arms are in pain, and I am not far away from lifting a pen and carrying a pen." "When I read this, in the crystal tears, I saw the back of the fat, green cotton robe and black cloth waistcoat. Alas, I don't know when I'll see him again!

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"Moonlight on the Lotus Pond" - Author: Zhu Ziqing

These days have been quite unrestful. Sitting in the courtyard tonight, I suddenly remembered the lotus pond that I walked by every day, and in the light of this full moon, there should be something else. The moon was gradually rising, and the laughter of the children on the road outside the wall was no longer audible, and the wife was in the house patting the leap and humming sleep songs in a daze. I quietly put on my coat and took it out the door.

Along the lotus pond, there is a winding road of small coal chips. It's a secluded road, less traveled during the day, and even more lonely at night. On all sides of the lotus pond, there are many trees, and they are lush. On the side of the road, there were willows and trees whose names I didn't know. On a night without moonlight, the road is gloomy and a little scary. Tonight was fine, though the moonlight was still faint.

I was alone on the road, pacing with my hands behind my back. This world seems to be mine, and I am like I have gone beyond my normal self to another world. I love to be lively, I love to be calm, I love to live in groups, and I love to be alone. Like tonight, under this vast moon, a person can think about anything, can not think about anything, and feel that he is a free person. What you have to do during the day, what you have to say, you can ignore it now. This is the beauty of being alone, and I can take advantage of this boundless lotus moonlight.

On the zigzag lotus pond, you can see the leaves of the fields. The leaves come out of the water very high, like the skirt of a dancing girl. Among the layers of leaves, there are scattered white flowers, some blooming gracefully, some shyly playing flowers, just like pearls, like stars in the blue sky, and like beauties just out of the bath. The breeze passed by, sending wisps of fragrance, like the faint singing of tall buildings in the distance. At this time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, and suddenly passed over the other side of the lotus pond. The leaves were originally close side by side, which seemed to have a condensed blue wave mark. Under the leaves is the running water of the veins, which is obscured and cannot see some color, but the leaves are more windy.

The moonlight poured silently on the leaves and flowers like flowing water. A thin blue mist floated in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in cow's milk, and they are like dreams wrapped in light veils. Even though it was a full moon, there was a faint cloud in the sky, so it couldn't shine, but I thought it was just right - a good night's sleep is essential, and a nap is also a good thing. The moonlight shines through the trees, and the shrubs in the high places fall jagged and mottled black shadows, which are like ghosts, and the sparse shadows of the curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is uneven, but the light and shadow have a harmonious melody, like the famous song played by Fan Jingling.

On all sides of the lotus pond, far and near, there are trees high and low, and the willow is the most. The trees surrounded a lotus pond, and only on the side of the path, there were a few gaps, as if they had been left for the moonlight. The color of the tree is shady and looks like a cloud of smoke at first glance, but the abundance of the willows can also be discerned in the smoke. There is a faint stretch of distant mountains in the treetops, which is just a little careless. There was also a light or two in the cracks of the trees, and the listless ones were the eyes of the thirsty sleepers. At this time, the most lively are the sound of cicadas in the trees and the sound of frogs in the water, but the excitement is theirs, and I have nothing.

I suddenly remembered the matter of picking lotus. Lotus picking is an old custom in the south of the Yangtze River, which seems to have existed very early, and it was flourishing in the Six Dynasties; It was the young women who picked the lotus, and they went in small boats and singing beautiful songs. Needless to say, there are many lotus pickers, and there are also people who see lotus pickers. It was a lively season, but also a merry season. Emperor Liang Yuan's "Lotus Picking Fu" said it well:

So the demon boy and the girl, the boat heart, the head of the head Xu Hui, and the feather cup, the sword will move and the algae hang, the boat wants to move and open. At the beginning of summer and spring, the leaves are tender and the flowers are at the beginning, and the fear of being stained with clothes and smiling shallowly, and the fear of capsizing the boat and the folding.

You can see the frolicking scene at that time. It's a funny thing, but unfortunately we're out of the way now.

Then I remembered the sentence in "Xizhou Song":

Picking lotus in the south pond autumn, the lotus flower is over the head, bow the head to get the lotus seed, the lotus seed is as clear as water.

If there is a lotus picker tonight, the lotus flowers here can be regarded as "surpassing the head"; only the shadow of some flowing water will not work. This makes me worry about Jiangnan in the end. ——Thinking so, he looked up suddenly, and realized that he was already in front of his own door, and gently pushed the door in, and there was no sound, and his wife had been asleep for a long time.