Alone in a foreign land as a stranger, every festival is full of relatives.

Time is too thin, finger seams are too wide, in a blink of an eye, it will come to the thirtieth year of the Chinese New Year's Eve, one year old in the sound of firecrackers, and in a few hours it will be time to say goodbye to the old and welcome the new, and life is at the end of this continuous farewell to the old and the new.

Every Chinese New Year's Eve, there is a custom among the people that takes the whole family to worship those deceased ancestors, and the northwest region is no exception.

Zhou Dawei took his wife Chu Qianqian and concubine Hua Xiu'er and daughter Lan Xin, and his son Jianfeng and Zhou Tong drove to the ancestral tomb of the Zhou family thirty miles away from their residence in the bureau with sacrifices.

Compared with this lively ancestor worship activity, Murong Yichuan and them are particularly prominent, and they feel that it is not interesting.

It's like standing in the courtyard and walking casually with Chunhong, the two of them are talking about something, but they feel bored, mainly because they have each other's hearts, which is a festive season, Chunhong's heart is to miss her sister Chunxiang and the sisters in the palace, they have been in the palace for many years, and they have a very deep relationship with each other, so they can't reunite together to welcome the New Year, which is naturally not a taste in the heart. There are quite a lot of things on her mind, in addition to the girls in the palace, there are also her own daughters, as well as Zi Yan and Empress Dowager Xiao and others, these people are what she misses the most at the moment.

According to the custom of the Central Plains, the Spring Festival couplets are pasted for the New Year, but there is no such custom in the northwest region, so it feels more and more monotonous.

When the two of them were chatting, they suddenly heard Murong Yichuan calling them in the house; "You two come in." The two of them glanced at each other and then hurriedly turned around and walked into the room, and then saw a couplet in front of Murong Yichuan, the red paper was particularly bright on this festive day, as if they were hurriedly walking over, "What do you think of the couplet?" Murong Yichuan was still holding a brush in his hand, and there were a few discarded red papers next to him, which seemed to be written and felt dissatisfied, and then he was still on the side. Murong Yichuan wrote the couplets mainly to give himself a sense of home, because when he was in the capital, all the couplets on his own Yin'an Palace were written by himself every Chinese New Year, and he couldn't look down on what others wrote.

As if looking at it carefully, it was a pair of famous couplets through the ages: "The days increase the years, the people increase the longevity, and the spring is full of blessings." "Every word is so hidden, elegant and tenacious, chic and hard, and the words are like straight pines.

"You don't have to pick your words, so you don't need to ask me, just paste it now that it's written." As if seriously.

Murong Yichuan was naturally proud when he saw that he didn't point out any shortcomings to himself; "It's so rare to get your heat, I'll stick it on the outside, and you're writing a pair on the bedroom door." Murong Yichuan handed the pen to Wanruo as he spoke.

As if there was no excuse, and then generously took the brush handed to him by Murong Yichuan, Chunhong hurriedly put the paper in front of Wanruo, as if holding the pen in his hand, pondered a little, and then brushed a little bit on the paper to write a couplet.

"I've written it, you can take a look." It was as if he put the pen in the pen holder, and then pushed the words to Murong Yichuan.

Murong Yichuan looked at the words carefully, her words were vaguely so soft and elegant, like a willow in March, "Yes, I think these two sentences on the paper are a little sentimental, a little out of line with the atmosphere." ”

It's like crumpling the paper when you take it; "If it affects your mood, then don't do it." As she spoke, she threw the paper ball into the brazier not far away.

"Okay, why are you angry?" Murong Yichuan looked at the displeased expression of the game in confusion, "I'm not aiming at you, I'm upset today, you don't have to worry about me." As if telling the truth, she was indeed uncomfortable, seeing others worship their ancestors, but she didn't know where her parents were, and she was still in a foreign land, she was inevitably sad in her heart, she herself was a particularly sentimental person.

Murong Yichuan can understand Wanruo's mood, in fact, he himself is so comfortable.

Murong Yichuan picked up the pen and brushed the paper with a little bit of writing, in the heavens he wished to be a winged bird, and on the earth he wished to be a Lian Li branch, and then said to Chunhong; "Attach these two couplets." Chunhong took the couplet and agreed, and went to the little girl outside to make a pasty iron couplet.

"I know you don't have a taste in your heart, why don't I go out with you for a walk." Murong Yichuan pulled Wanruo's hand.

It's like a way; "Okay, you can take me to the red plum tree where we went last time, I know that now the red plum is also thanks, I want to see where the red plum tree is like seeing our palace, is it okay?" It's like a dark expression.

"Okay, I'll be attached to you all the time, it's windy outside, let's add a layer of coat." Murong Yichuan said warmly.

He nodded, and then walked to the back room to put on a thick coat for himself.

Author's digression:Anyway, I'm still watching the old version of the Fengshen list.,It's the version of the eighties.,I'm very obsessed.,About the update.,I've been in a bad mood lately.,It's affected the progress of writing.,So it's up to two changes a day.,I hope forgive me.。 There is also the book "I Only Hate When I First Met and Unmarried, Princess Wutong" is also being written, trying to make Murong Yichuan and Murong Jianchen above, as well as not so similar to the Wutong above, but it is difficult to be somewhat similar