It was dusk, and the clouds on the horizon glowed red. "Music" essay "Spring cold is steep. The cool spring breeze blew, and the clothes of Han Moyu fluttered with the wind. Han Moyu looked at the empty prisoner of war arena, where the carnage seemed to have just been staged. Her memory suddenly seemed to return to that sunny winter day, when a celebration of victory was being staged.

Han Moyu still remembered that at that time, Murong Huang, the prince of Yan Kingdom, who was dressed in red like a flame, stood on the high singing platform in the center of the square, quietly looking at the crowd gathered and sitting underground, and then let out the first song in the fierce battle of swords and swords. The ethereal and pure voice, accompanied by boundless loneliness, spread out like a ripple and gradually disappeared into the sky......

Even today, a long time later, Han Moyu still recalls Murong Huang at that time. The eyes that are as clean as autumn water, and the loneliness that spreads endlessly in the song. Han Moyu slowly walked up to the song platform step by step, looking into the distance, and the scenery was in full view.

Han Moyu hadn't seen Murong Huang for a long time. I heard that the emperor was forced by public opinion to no longer summon Murong Huang, but opened a courtyard for him outside the palace and let him live there. It's just that because of Murong Huang's embarrassing identity, now rumors are spreading again, and many people are scolding him, saying that he is bewitching.

Murong Huang once offended King Yong during the banquet, and on the way back, he was beaten by a group of masked men with sticks and his head and face, and was thrown on the road. Within a few days, the emperor knew about it, cut King Yong's title, and took Murong Huang back to the palace to recuperate.

Isn't it, lonely people, like to sing?

Murong Huang once said that singing can take away loneliness. And at this time, Hanmo is also lonely; So, she's going to sing.

You can't tell anyone, you can't move, you can't say anything; Han Moyu suddenly remembered the puppeteer who accompanied him through his lonely childhood many years ago; And at this moment, Han Moyu actually felt that he was like that puppeteer, unable to do anything. can only silently suppress the pain in the bottom of my heart. No one listens, no one understands, no one comforts. Her heart was full of doubts and hesitation, she was scared, confused, she didn't even know what was wrong with her heart. Is it too lonely? Do you want to be warm too much? She just wants to be by that person's side, and she just wants to see that person every day.

However, when that day, she accidentally saw the lingering scene in the house, she was shocked; Then, it turned into panic, fear, shame, confusion, pain, and a hazy enlightenment that seemed to be understood. That day, she ran out of the cold mansion like a madman, and ran far and wide away from the city, until she finally fell to the ground from exhaustion......

However, the painful beating heart was still tangled together and could not be relaxed. At that time, Han Moyu began to interrogate the emotion in her heart for the first time, she asked herself over and over again, what to ask, where it hurts. From that moment on, she became silent. She didn't even know why she was like this, wasn't she, afraid that she would reveal her heart as soon as she opened her mouth? She became silent, but she began to like to hang out in this prisoner of war arena when no one was around, just to sing, like Murong Huang.

My wish is, singing. But can't even such a humble wish come true?

Han Moyu looked quietly into the distance. The wind was whistling.

I'm afraid I can't even sing like this. When Han Moyu was found singing in the prisoner of war arena, her mother was furious. At that time, Han Moyu, who was kneeling in front of his mother, stubbornly raised his head and refused to admit his mistake. However, what he got was a heavy whipping that fell on his body.

"Son!" At that time, Mrs. Han yelled angrily, trembling with excitement: "You are also a dignified young master of the Han Mansion, but you have to surrender your identity and do what those courtesans do!" Do you have to lose the face of the cold mansion and make me angry to death before you can be happy?! ”

In this world, singing is a lowly thing, just like a girl serving others? Han Moyu pale and smiled slightly. In any case, Han Moyu still wanted to sing. She sings not for whom, but for herself. She still remembers that when she turned around and walked out of the main hall of Xi Zhaoju and was about to kneel outside the door, her mother stood behind her and shouted, "If you dare to let me know that you are running to sing, you will get out of this house for me!" Never appear in front of me! If I see it, I'll cut out your tongue and break your legs!" ”

Haha, huh? Mother, I know you can do it.

She stood on the high stage, and hatred welled up in her desolate eyes: I know you can do it, Mother.

Do you think I'll be afraid of your threat? She remembered that at that time, she turned her back to her mother, and the tears that she had tried so hard to suppress suddenly welled up.

Am I afraid?! At that time, Han Moyu, who knelt for a day and a night before returning to the house, angrily pushed down the things on the table. The room resounded with the sound of huge soldiers smashing their wares. "Get out of here!" She yelled at Xue Ling'er, the maidservant who entered the door tremblingly, her eyes spewing flames.

It's the last time, the last time it's sung. After today, I will forget about it; I will never again, singing.

Han Moyu stood on the stage in the center of the gladiatorial arena. Pain haunted her. The square was empty. I remember that once upon a time, it was bustling with activity. When the prisoners of war were bleeding and the surrounding spectators were cheering and cheering, the god-like Murong Huang sang a song of tranquility in the frenzied crowd. The song is melodious and lonely, so that those who hear it instantly feel the peace of their souls. At that time, impetuousness and violence turned out to be quiet and peaceful because of the singing.

It was a grand celebration and a bloody and brutal show; Murong Huang standing on the stage, his red clothes are like fire; The eyes are like silk, the body is light like a beautiful butterfly, no, it is a moth that goes to the fire. He dragged his heavy chains and stood on the stage like a budding rose. At that time, Han Moyu watched the once proud and noble prince become a prisoner of war slave; Looking at such a clean and spotless royal prince, he has become a plaything to be abused.

It was dusk, and the clouds on the horizon glowed red. "Music" essay "Spring cold is steep. The cool spring breeze blew, and the clothes of Han Moyu fluttered with the wind. Han Moyu looked at the empty prisoner of war arena, where the carnage seemed to have just been staged. Her memory suddenly seemed to return to that sunny winter day, when a celebration of victory was being staged.

Han Moyu still remembered that at that time, Murong Huang, the prince of Yan Kingdom, who was dressed in red like a flame, stood on the high singing platform in the center of the square, quietly looking at the crowd gathered and sitting underground, and then let out the first song in the fierce battle of swords and swords. The ethereal and pure voice, accompanied by boundless loneliness, spread out like a ripple and gradually disappeared into the sky......

Even today, a long time later, Han Moyu still recalls Murong Huang at that time. The eyes that are as clean as autumn water, and the loneliness that spreads endlessly in the song. Han Moyu slowly walked up to the song platform step by step, looking into the distance, and the scenery was in full view.

Han Moyu hadn't seen Murong Huang for a long time. I heard that the emperor was forced by public opinion to no longer summon Murong Huang, but opened a courtyard for him outside the palace and let him live there. It's just that because of Murong Huang's embarrassing identity, now rumors are spreading again, and many people are scolding him, saying that he is bewitching.

Murong Huang once offended King Yong during the banquet, and on the way back, he was beaten by a group of masked men with sticks and his head and face, and was thrown on the road. Within a few days, the emperor knew about it, cut King Yong's title, and took Murong Huang back to the palace to recuperate.

Isn't it, lonely people, like to sing?

Murong Huang once said that singing can take away loneliness. And at this time, Hanmo is also lonely; So, she's going to sing.

You can't tell anyone, you can't move, you can't say anything; Han Moyu suddenly remembered the puppeteer who accompanied him through his lonely childhood many years ago; And at this moment, Han Moyu actually felt that he was like that puppeteer, unable to do anything. can only silently suppress the pain in the bottom of my heart. No one listens, no one understands, no one comforts. Her heart was full of doubts and hesitation, she was scared, confused, she didn't even know what was wrong with her heart. Is it too lonely? Do you want to be warm too much? She just wants to be by that person's side, and she just wants to see that person every day.

However, when that day, she accidentally saw the lingering scene in the house, she was shocked; Then, it turned into panic, fear, shame, confusion, pain, and a hazy enlightenment that seemed to be understood. That day, she ran out of the cold mansion like a madman, and ran far and wide away from the city, until she finally fell to the ground from exhaustion......

However, the painful beating heart was still tangled together and could not be relaxed. At that time, Han Moyu began to interrogate the emotion in her heart for the first time, she asked herself over and over again, what to ask, where it hurts. From that moment on, she became silent. She didn't even know why she was like this, wasn't she, afraid that she would reveal her heart as soon as she opened her mouth? She became silent, but she began to like to hang out in this prisoner of war arena when no one was around, just to sing, like Murong Huang.

My wish is, singing. But can't even such a humble wish come true?

Han Moyu looked quietly into the distance. The wind was whistling.

I'm afraid I can't even sing like this. When Han Moyu was found singing in the prisoner of war arena, her mother was furious. At that time, Han Moyu, who was kneeling in front of his mother, stubbornly raised his head and refused to admit his mistake. However, what he got was a heavy whipping that fell on his body.

"Son!" At that time, Mrs. Han yelled angrily, trembling with excitement: "You are also a dignified young master of the Han Mansion, but you have to surrender your identity and do what those courtesans do!" Do you have to lose the face of the cold mansion and make me angry to death before you can be happy?! ”

In this world, singing is a lowly thing, just like a girl serving others? Han Moyu pale and smiled slightly. In any case, Han Moyu still wanted to sing. She sings not for whom, but for herself. She still remembers that when she turned around and walked out of the main hall of Xi Zhaoju and was about to kneel outside the door, her mother stood behind her and shouted, "If you dare to let me know that you are running to sing, you will get out of this house for me!" Never appear in front of me! If I see it, I'll cut out your tongue and break your legs!" ”

Haha, huh? Mother, I know you can do it.

She stood on the high stage, and hatred welled up in her desolate eyes: I know you can do it, Mother.

Do you think I'll be afraid of your threat? She remembered that at that time, she turned her back to her mother, and the tears that she had tried so hard to suppress suddenly welled up.

Am I afraid?! At that time, Han Moyu, who knelt for a day and a night before returning to the house, angrily pushed down the things on the table. The room resounded with the sound of huge soldiers smashing their wares. "Get out of here!" She yelled at Xue Ling'er, the maidservant who entered the door tremblingly, her eyes spewing flames.

It's the last time, the last time it's sung. After today, I will forget about it; I will never again, singing.

Han Moyu stood on the stage in the center of the gladiatorial arena. Pain haunted her. The square was empty. I remember that once upon a time, it was bustling with activity. When the prisoners of war were bleeding and the surrounding spectators were cheering and cheering, the god-like Murong Huang sang a song of tranquility in the frenzied crowd. The song is melodious and lonely, so that those who hear it instantly feel the peace of their souls. At that time, impetuousness and violence turned out to be quiet and peaceful because of the singing.

It was a grand celebration and a bloody and brutal show; Murong Huang standing on the stage, his red clothes are like fire; The eyes are like silk, the body is light like a beautiful butterfly, no, it is a moth that goes to the fire. He dragged his heavy chains and stood on the stage like a budding rose. At that time, Han Moyu watched the once proud and noble prince become a prisoner of war slave; Looking at such a clean and spotless royal prince, he has become a plaything to be abused.