PS: Anti-piracy. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info try the effect, and book friends can read it later tomorrow.

There is a large garden at the back of my house, which is said to be called the Hundred Herb Garden. Now it has been sold to the descendants of Zhu Wengong with the house, and even the last meeting has been separated by seven or eight years, and there seems to be only some wild grass among them, but it was my paradise at that time.

It is not necessary to mention the green cabbage furrows, the smooth stone well bars, the tall honey locust trees, and the purple-red mulberries, nor the cicadas singing in the leaves, the fat wasps crouching on the cauliflowers, and the swift calling of the Son of Heaven (lark) suddenly from the grass to the clouds. The short mud walls around it alone are infinitely interesting. Lacewings sing here, and crickets play their harps here. When you open the broken bricks, you will sometimes encounter centipedes, and if you press your finger on its spine, it will slap and emit a puff of smoke from its back hole. He Shou Wu vine and Mulian vine are entangled, Mu Lian has lotus-like fruits, and He Shou Wu has swollen roots. Some people say that He Shou Wugen has the shape of a human, and if you eat it, you can become an immortal, so I often pull it up, implicated and constantly pulled it up, and I also broke the mud wall because of this, but I have never seen a piece of root like a man. If you are not afraid of thorns, you can also pick raspberries, like small balls of coral beads, sour and sweet, and the color and taste are far better than mulberries.

You can't go to the long grass, because according to legend, there is a big red snake in this garden.

The eldest mother once told me a story: before, there was a scholar who lived in an ancient temple and worked hard, and at night, when he was enjoying the cool in the courtyard, he suddenly heard someone calling him. promised, but when he looked around, he saw a beautiful woman's face exposed on the wall, smiled at him, and disappeared. He was very happy, but he was able to see through the mechanism for the old monk who had come to talk all night. He said that he had some demonic anger on his face, and that he must have met a "beautiful snake"; this is a monster with a human head and a snake body, and can call people by name, and if they agree, they will come and eat this person's flesh at night. He was naturally scared to death, but the old monk said that it was okay, and gave him a small box, saying that as long as he put it next to the pillow, he could lie on his pillow. He did the same, but he couldn't sleep, of course. In the middle of the night, it came, rustling! As he was shaking, he heard a golden light fly out of the pillow, and there was no sound outside, and the golden light flew back and was in the box. Later, the old monk said that this was a flying centipede, and it could suck the brain marrow of a snake, and the beautiful snake was killed by it.

The lesson at the end is: Therefore if a strange voice calls your name, you must not answer it.

This story makes me feel very dangerous to be a human being, often a little worried about the cool summer night, afraid to look at the wall, and desperately want to get a box of flying centipedes like the old monk. When I walk next to the grass in the herb garden, I often think the same way. But until now, I haven't gotten it, but I haven't met the red snake and the beautiful snake. Strange voices calling my name are common, but they are not beautiful snakes.

In winter, the herb garden is relatively tasteless, and when it snows, it is different. Snowman (imprinting one's full form on the snow) and snow arhat need to be appreciated, this is a deserted garden, inaccessible, so it is not suitable, so I have to come to catch birds. Thin snow is not enough, it must be covered with snow for a day or two, and the birds and finches have nowhere to feed for a long time. Sweep away a piece of snow, expose the ground, use a short stick to prop up a large bamboo sieve, sprinkle some grain underneath, tie a long rope to the stick, people lead it from a distance, watch the birds and birds come down to peck food, and when they go to the bottom of the bamboo sieve, pull the rope, and cover it. But what I got was that most of them were sparrows, and there were also white-cheeked "Zhang Feiniao", who were very irritable and couldn't raise them overnight.

This is the method taught by the father of the leap earth, but I am not very good at using it. Obviously seeing them go in, he pulled the rope and ran to take a look, but there was nothing, and it took a long time to catch only three or four. The father of Runtu was able to catch dozens of them in half a day, and they were loaded in a fork bag and screamed and hit. I once asked him the reason for the gains and losses, and he only smiled quietly: You are too anxious to wait for it to go to the middle.

I don't know why my family sent me to a school, which is the strictest school in the city. Maybe it's because he Shou Wu destroyed the mud wall, maybe it's because he threw bricks into the Liang family on the wall, maybe it's because he jumped off the stone well railing,...... There's no way to know. In short: I won't be able to go to the Herb Garden very often. Ade, my crickets! Ade, my raspberries and lotus!

Going east, not more than half a mile, across a stone bridge, is my husband's home. Entering through a black bamboo door, the third room is a study. Below the flat is a painting of a very fat sika deer lying under an ancient tree. There was no Confucius tablet, so we saluted Nabian and the deer. The first time is considered to worship Confucius, and the second time is to worship Mr.

At the second salute, the gentleman kindly replied. He was a tall, thin old man with gray hair and big glasses. I was very respectful to him, for I had heard that he was the most square, simple, and learned man in the city.

I don't know where I heard it, Dongfang Shuo is also very knowledgeable, he knows a kind of worm, called "weird", injustice, poured with wine, and then dissipated. I'd love to know this story in detail, but Ah Chang doesn't know it, because she is not knowledgeable after all. Now that you have a chance, you can ask sir.

"Sir, what's the matter with this 'weird' worm?...... "I asked in a hurry when I was about to retire.

"I don't know!" he seemed upset, and his face was still angry.

I learned that as a student, you should not ask these things, as long as you study, because he is a profound Confucian, and he will never know it, and the so-called one who does not know is unwilling to say. People older than me, as it often does, I've met several times.

I only read, practice calligraphy at noon, and teach in the evening. My husband was very strict with me in the first few days, but then he got better, but he gradually read more books to me, and gradually added words to the lessons, from three words to five words, and finally to seven words.

There is also a garden at the back, although it is small, but you can also climb the flower bed to fold plum blossoms, and look for cicadas on the ground or on the osmanthus tree. The best job is to catch flies and feed the ants, quietly without sound. However, the classmates had been in the garden too much, too long, and it was not enough, and the gentleman cried out in the study:-

"Where have all the people gone?"

And one by one the people went back, and they did not go back together. He has a precept, but he doesn't use it often, and he also has a rule for kneeling, but he doesn't use it often, and he just glares at him a few times, and says loudly:-

"Read!"

So everyone let go of their throats and read for a while, and it was really loud. There are those who read "benevolence is far away, I want to be benevolent", there are those who read "laughing at people's teeth and say that the dog sinus is wide open", there are those who read "don't use the nine hidden dragons", and there are those who read "the soil is on the wrong and the top is on the wrong tribute bud grass orange pomelo...... The gentleman himself also studied. Then our voices were lowered and silenced, and only he was reading aloud: (To be continued.) )