In the real world, in 2012, after the third day of the Lunar New Year, Yu Wenhao, who stayed at his grandmother's house and took advantage of the fact that he still had a few days of winter vacation, was sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking at a book. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

This book is called "Nalan Rongruo".

Nalan Rongruo, formerly known as Nalan Chengde, later changed to Nalan Xingde, the word Rongruo, the number of drinking water, Lengjiashan people, Manchuria Zhenghuang Flag, one of the three major Qing words.

About Nalan Rongruo, it can be summed up in one sentence, his life is a legend.

His father was a scholar of Wuyingdian University in the Kangxi Dynasty and a generation of powerful ministers Nalan Mingzhu.

Mother Ai Xinjue Luo is the fifth daughter of Prince Azig of England and the wife of Yipin.

His family, the Nalan clan, belongs to the Zhenghuang Banner and is one of the eight most prominent surnames of the Manchu people in the early Qing Dynasty, which is called the "Yehenala clan" in later generations.

His great-grandfather was Jin Shitai, the leader of the Jurchen Yehe tribe. Jin Shitai's younger sister Meng Gu married Nurhachi as a concubine and gave birth to the prince Huang Taiji.

He, a young genius, has read poetry and books since he was a child, studied both civil and military, and entered the national prison at the age of seventeen, and was appreciated by Xu Wenyuan, a priest of wine, and recommended to Xu Qianxue, a cabinet bachelor.

At the age of eighteen, he participated in the Shuntianfu Township Examination and was promoted in the examination.

At the age of nineteen, he took the entrance examination and became a tribute.

Kangxi missed the palace examination due to illness in the twelfth year.

Kangxi made up the palace examination in the fifteenth year, and ranked second and seventh in the examination, and was born as a jinshi.

Officer of the third class of guards, and later promoted to first class guards.

Worship Xu Qianxue as a teacher.

In two years, he presided over the compilation of a compilation of Confucianism, the Tongzhitang Sutra Commentary, which was deeply appreciated by the emperor and laid the foundation for future development.

His words win with "truth", and the scenes are realistic and expressive. The style of words is "clear and graceful, sad and stubborn, high and far-reaching, and unique".

He is the author of "Tongzhitang Collection", "Side Hat Collection", "Drinking Water Words" and so on.

In the twenty-fourth year of Kangxi, he got together with his friends in the late spring, got drunk, sang and sighed, and then became ill.

Seven days later, on May 30, the 24th year of Kangxi, he died suddenly at the age of 30.

It has been said that the human soul has weight, which is the difference between the weight of the moment before and after death, which is about 21 grams.

And Nalan Rongruo, his life is 21 grams, which means that his life is pure and loving, even if he has undergone personnel changes, he still has not changed the truest part of his heart, the purest and true love.

Looking at the introduction of Nalan Rongruo's life written on the page, Yu Wenhao looked at him for a moment, as if he had traveled through time and space, and appeared beside Nalan Rongruo at that time, looking at him, looking at him heroic, elegant, and the whole person gave people a calm breath like water, Yu Wenhao, as if he had turned into a woman beside him, looked at him stupidly, without blinking his eyes.

Outside the attic.

"Dream Gangnam."

"The crows are all gone, who is Xiaoli hateful? The rapid snow turned over the incense pavilion, the breeze blew to the gall bottle plum, and the heart word has turned into ashes. ”

In the twilight of the night, the crows are far away, but I am standing like that? It's for the snow that falls sharply and flies on the incense pavilion, for the cold wind blowing on the jade bottle with the winter plum, no, these are not, maybe they are, more, because, at this moment, I, in my heart, the incense burning for you, has been like this flying snow, the cold wind blowing, turned into ashes, with the crow, gone.

After Nalan Rongruo's words fell, a circle of ripples suddenly rippled around him, blending and slowly dispersing, as if the end of one picture and the opening of another, as if he had walked from one side of the mirror to the other.

In the pavilion.

"Bodhisattva."

"The spring clouds blow away the Hunan curtain rain, and the sticky butterflies fly back. People are in the jade building, the building is high and windy. A handful of willow smoke, twilight cage mandarin tiles. Hugh is close to the small Langgan, and the sunset is infinite. ”

The spring breeze blew, and the curtain fluttered like rain, sticking to the flying butterflies. People are in the gorgeous pavilion, but they feel that the wind is blowing on all sides, so it is not slightly cold. The thoughts that can't be dissolved in my heart are like a handful of thin willow threads hanging down, and like the night that is gradually dimming, covering the mandarin duck tiles, so sad. Leaning on the small Langgan, looking at the distant mountains, my heart is like flying, but I can't fly out of this pavilion, this small Langgan.

Butterflies fly, twilight twilight, the picture flows.

Inside the lone lamp room.

"Linjiang Immortal."

"The heart of the plantain is broken, and the voice reminds me of the beginning. I still have old books. The small characters of the mandarin duck still remember that the hands are unfamiliar. Tired eyes are low and confused, and half of the re-viewing is blurry. The dark window is cold and rainy, and the light is lonely. It is expected that the situation should be exhausted, but is there any affection? ”

Outside the window, the night rain is dripping, and the plantain is broken, as if urging me to reminisce about the past. I don't want to sleep, I look at the old letter you wrote in my hand, and the small mandarin duck characters on it are really rusty. Tiredness hit, the letters in his hands were scattered all over the ground, and after picking them up, he looked through them again, but his eyes were wet with tears and blurred. The cold rain beat against the gloomy window, and a dim light shone on the lonely people. The affection that is gradually forgotten, it seems, cannot be forgotten.

The night rain flies, the cold wind blows, and the picture turns again.

Inside the Silent Room.

"Poppy."

"The spring love is only thin to the pear blossoms, and the pieces are scattered. The sunset is close to dusk, but there are still unsummoned spirits in the world. Don't dream of silver paper when the sentence, dense and concentric. For Yi to judge the dreamer, the long direction of the drawing of the night to call the truth. ”

Spring is coming, the breath of spring is pervasive, and the leaves are flying. Why should the sunset fall in a hurry, there are still souls in the world. I still have the smiles and smiles that I wrote with you, and I still have the concentric knot that you and I knotted together. In the silent night, I am afraid that you will no more, looking at you in the painting, calling your name in a low voice, until dawn.

Spring flowers fall, the sunset shines obliquely, and the picture turns around.

In front of the pavilion.

"Butterflies love flowers."

"Hard work is the most pitiful to the sky and the moon, and the night is like a ring, and the night is a joy. If it is like the moon ring finally bright, do not give up the ice and snow for the heat. Without that dust, it is easy to die, the swallow is still, and the soft curtain hook said. Singing the autumn grave is not over, and the spring cong recognizes the amphibian butterfly. ”

The hardest and most pitiful is the bright moon in the sky, it only this night is as mellow and complete as a jade ring, and other times, it is like a jade jue, missing something. If we can be like the bright moon in the sky, always bright and clean, always together, I am not afraid to learn from Xun Can, in order to save his wife, in the cold snow, take off his clothes, cool his body, and cool down his wife, like that, to shield you from the wind and rain. Helplessly, although the dust edge is easy to break, the swallows on the curtain hook still murmur. Singing a song in front of your tomb, the sorrow in my heart still can't be dissipated, I only hope that we can fly like two butterflies in this world.

The moon shines beautifully, the snow is long, and the picture turns five times.

in the courtyard.

"Yamahanako."

"The moss under the forest is the Yun family, and the jade bones are pitiful and dusty. There is nowhere to say before the wind, and the number is returned to the crow. Half a lifetime of duckweed with the passing water, a night of cold rain burial flowers. The soul is the willow that blows and wants to break, around the end of the world. ”

The snow is falling, whose house is deserted, the catkins are flying, and who has died. Bit by bit of sorrow, who to tell the wind, it is better to count the crows, watch the sunset, and go with the sunset. I, who float in the world, miss you who sleep under the rain, as if I have turned into a wisp of soul, drifting to the end of the world with the wind and the broken flocculents.

The broken flocculent is flying, the soul is flying to the end of the world, and the picture turns six times.

Under the stairs.

"Qing Pingle."

"Poignant, bleak Yellow Flower Festival. The sound of the anvil in the dream has not stopped, and it is even more chaotic and sad. The dusty swallow is empty, and the head of the bed is left. The same wind and waning moon, and now it is touching the sorrow. ”

It was the time of the Chongyang Festival, looking at the scenery of the courtyard, and the meaning of sadness in the eyes of life. In my sleep, the sound of the ladies pounding their clothes is still in my ears, but the sound of crickets chirping outside the house is annoying. The swallow flew away, like a person going to the empty building, and the broken string piano hung on the head of the bed indiscriminately, and he didn't have the heart to play. This is the same as usual, but now that I look at it, it seems that I am more melancholy.

The sound of broken strings is lonely, the wind and the waning moon have not changed, and the picture has seven turns.

on the trail.

"Like a dream."

"The yellow leaves and moss are home, where is the fragrance of the powder. The news is so gloomy that tonight is a little lovesick. Autumn rain, autumn rain, half blown away by the wind. ”

The yellowed dead leaves fell all over the mossy path, but the lingering fragrance was gone. I searched for your news, but like the drizzle of this autumn night, how many sank in this mossy path, wetting these dead leaves. Autumn rain, autumn rain, I hope you, with the wind, bring me even half of the lovesickness.

The dead leaves are all over the ground, the autumn rain is continuous, and the picture turns eight times.

at the small railing.

"Picking mulberries."

"Who puts the ice wheel full in the sea and the sky, melancholy and parting. Don't say it's divorced, but there are always tears on a good night. You should only see each other again, that is this life. But in this life, when I was just worried, I remembered Qing. ”

Who put a full moon on this icy sea that caused me to feel melancholy. Don't say melancholy and leave, as long as it's a good night, I can't help but secretly wipe my tears. I only wish to meet you in heaven and be with you in heaven, even if it is just for a lifetime. But in this life, I can't accompany you, and in this life, I am destined to only remember you in full of sorrow.

The ice wheel on the sea is full of melancholy, and the picture turns nine times.

On the stone bridge.

"Painting Tang Chun."

"A lifetime of one generation and one pair, fighting for two ecstasy. Lovesick and not blind date, who is the spring for the sky? The pulp is easy to beg for the blue bridge, and the medicine is difficult to run into the blue sea. If you visit Oxford, you will be relatively poor. ”

It's obviously a lifetime, a match made in heaven, but they can't be together, separated by yin and yang, which really makes people suffer from desolation and haggardness. Lovesickness, looking at each other, but can't get along, who is this spring in the sky for? For example, Pei Hang and Yun Ying are easy to be together, but they can't be as easy to see each other as Chang'e is in the moon. If I can, I am willing to give up all glory and wealth, and be with you by the heavenly river, herding cattle and sheep, and only wishing to have you by my side.

The sky is faceless, the double soul period, and the picture is ten turns.

Outside the inn.

"Huanxi Sand."

"Whoever reads the west wind is cold alone, Xiao Xiao Yellow Leaves close the window. Contemplating the past and setting up the remnant sun. was shocked by the wine, and the gambling books were consumed with the fragrance of tea. At that time, it was just ordinary. ”

The autumn breeze is slightly cool, like a piece of fallen leaves covering the flower windows, and my loneliness, like this autumn wind and falling leaves, is full of heart. Standing, silently reminiscing about the past, my heart is blank. I still remember taking a nap after drinking, the spring is long, the boudoir is playing, and the placket is stained with the fragrance of tea. Such a gentle little day was originally sparse and ordinary, but now, I can only think about it.

The autumn wind is incomprehensible, thinking about people, remembering the past, and reviewing by the column.

On the banks of the river.

"Spread the Huanxi sand."

"The wind has turned into a puff, and the mud lotus has just lingered; Cherish a petal of incense and remember the previous life. People are affectionate and thin, and now they are really regretful and affectionate; When I went to the place where I looked back at my broken intestines, I stole zero tears. ”

The catkins in the wind, broken and flying, falling on the water surface, turned into duckweed, the lotus flower in the mud is strong, the lotus root is even silk under the mud, when parting, pick a petal and give it away, make a souvenir. Love to the depths of the love thinned, now regret, at that time amorous, every time I go to the place of sadness, always tears.

Affection is not as good as ruthlessness, and it is haunted by thousands of souls.

Ruthless and not emotional, a hundred turns and thousands of waves and sand.

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