This is a short story, and there are some of my emotions attached to it. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

1

A wisp of smoke spilled out of the old swordsman's mouth, and it dispersed into the air, gradually harmonizing with the faint morning mist.

After smoking the last puff of dry tobacco, the old swordsman took the cigarette stick into his arms, patted his hand, which was a little stiff by the cold wind, and took a deep breath of morning air, his eyes containing satisfaction.

Smoking a bag of cigarettes in the morning is an old habit that is hard to break.

There were some budding willows by the moat, and the branches were decorated with fine and dense leaf buds; However, there are still more dead trees by the moat, and most of the trunks have been hollowed out by time, and the ravines and ravines are ravines.

Both living and dead, except for a few trees scattered among the mulberry fields, they all stretched close to the moat and disappeared from the young swordsman's eyes.

The young swordsman saw her twisting the tender mulberry leaves in the mulberry field, and her soft and weak appearance made his heart pound, and the cold and hard scabbard in his hand did not make him feel cold.

Tomorrow I will go out with the army. Thinking of this, the young swordsman's heart suddenly became a little disturbed.

He had been quietly looking at Sang Tian for a long, long time......

I'm going to go on the expedition tomorrow, should I confess now?

Should it be......

Go!

Go now!

How can you be indecisive as a chivalrous warrior?

But...... Estimate......

She doesn't even know what my last name is......

2

The old swordsman's eyes were a little cloudy, and he stared at the disciple leaning against the tree, as if staring at his younger self.

Back then, he was also silently looking at the girl on Mo from a distance.

The difference was that at that time she knew what was on his mind, and she promised to wait for him to come back. But when he came back, the thought that he had never forgotten was finally a wife, and all the people he knew were already full of flowers.

It's still the river, but the people are no longer there.

The old swordsman turned his head to look at the woman in the mulberry field, and a smile twisted into the corner of his mouth.

Little girl, it's really like her mother.

In that battle, the Forbidden City was full of devastation and the mountains and rivers were shattered. Fortunately, he had come back alive, and when he remembered the past, the old swordsman couldn't help but think like a ......

3

Every morning after practicing the sword, I also leaned on the tree like this, looking at the beauty picking mulberry in the distance!

Sometimes the sun is scorching, and I want to go up and wipe the sweat stains on her forehead, but I can't do it because of the master's strictness.

It's a pity that a wish that could have been fulfilled at the risk of a little punishment......

I haven't been able to do it in my life......

Finish.

ps: This short story was found in the corner of the folder, and I wrote it when I was about a year old, and I looked back at it after a few years, and it was really full of aura.

Now most of the rest is craftsmanship.

At that time, the thinking of young people told this story of vicissitudes...... I'm amazing.

Also ps:

I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this, time, it's really a steel knife that scrapes bones. Ten days, one month, one year, or three years and ten years, people who are still unforgettable at the moment may not even remember the specific appearance, voice and smiling face after many years.

The experience of the old swordsman is very realistic, maybe someone will wait for him for a lifetime, but after a lifetime, maybe the other party will have to wait, and I don't know what it is.

And the young swordsman is a person who lives in everything very green, does not know what is wrong with people, and the vicissitudes of the world. After a long time, when I look back, I will probably feel ridiculous about myself at this time, after all, no matter how bad the situation is, it is just a man who leads the little boy over, and the little boy calls the object of his admiration the old mother.

What's so timid?

There are always more old hooligans than little hooligans in the world, that's the truth.

Re ps:

At the age of twenty, I am not as mature as I used to be, am I naïve or depraved......