噺 (8) 壹 Chinese net ωωω.χ8.òм 哽噺繓赽捌 (1) Novel 説蛧

General Tang Zhangwei knew that Tang Zhaozong had obtained a hundred taels of gold and a bucket of pearls from Sun Duolu, since Tang Zhaozong had gotten so many things from Sun Duolu, who had always been very tight on hand, he had to express himself well, but he would feel distressed if he gave too many things. If it is less, Tang Zhaozong will definitely be angry because of it.

Tang Zhangwei didn't want to turn his face with Tang Zhaozong because of this matter, he had to have a meeting with Fei Xuechun overnight to discuss the matter, Tang Zhangwei said to Fei Xuechun: "This Tang Zhaozong is also a wonderful person, he is really different from ordinary people, this guy is really not ordinary when he fights in the autumn breeze." ”

Fei Xuechun said: "Tang Zhaozong is our co-master, the general speaks, it is better to leave some dignity for Tang Zhaozong, otherwise it will not sound good." ”

Tang Zhangwei nodded and said, "This is my fault, I should be cautious in my words." ”

Fei Xuechun said: "I was not qualified to remind you, but I had to remind you. ”

"Oh no, it's just weird. This forest is so dense! It's all intertwined with each other, and it has a foreign flavor. If you stay here for a while, you'll get lost. Is this what they call a tropical jungle? ”

"Tropical scrubland. Myanmar is almost entirely tropical jungle – I think it's a green, nasty land. If I were you, I wouldn't have walked through that meadow. Grass seeds will burrow into your stockings and stick to your skin. ”

He let the girl walk in front, feeling more comfortable because she couldn't see her face. As a girl, she was tall and wore a lilac cotton tunic. Judging by the movements of her limbs, he concluded that she was in her early twenties. He hadn't looked at her face yet, except that she was wearing a pair of round-rimmed tortoise-striped glasses, and her hair was about as short as his own. Except in illustrated newspapers, he had never seen a woman with short hair before.

When they were on the playground, he walked side by side with her, and she turned her head to face him. Her face is oval, her countenance is delicate, and her features are well-proportioned. It may not be very beautiful, but it is good in Burma, because the English women here look yellow and thin. He suddenly turned his face to the side, although **** was far away from her, he didn't want her to get too close to his face. He seemed to feel the wrinkled skin around his eyes, like a scar. But he remembered that he had shaved his face in the morning, which gave him some courage. He said:

"I said, after this, you must have been terrified. Come and rest with me for a while before you go home? Besides, you shouldn't go out without a hat at this time. ”

"Oh, thanks, all right," said the girl. He expected that she did not understand the rules of Indian etiquette. "Is this your home?"

"Yes. We have to go from the front. I'll ask the maid to bring you a parasol. Your hair is so short, it's too dangerous for you this day. ”

They went up the garden path. Frau jumped merrily beside the two, trying to get attention to him. It always barks at strange Orientals, but loves the smell of Europeans. The sun was more poisonous, and the smell of red currants emanated from the petunias by the roadside, and a pigeon fell to the ground with its wings flapped, and when Frau pounced, he leaped up again and flew into the air. Both Florey and the girl agree to stop for a moment to enjoy the flowers. An inexplicable sense of happiness surged into the hearts of the two.

"Don't go out in the sun without a hat," Flory said again, somehow with a hint of intimacy in his words. He couldn't help but mention her short hair, which seemed to him to be really beautiful, and just mentioning her hair was like touching it with his own hands.

"Oh, your knee is bleeding," said the girl, "from the injury you were when you came to save me, right?" ”

On his khaki stockings, there was a tiny trail of blood, which had dried and turned purple. "It doesn't matter," he said. But at the moment, neither of them felt insignificant. They began to talk eagerly about flowers. The girl said she was "fond of" flowers, and Flory led her down the path, talking one plant after another.

"Look at how much the oleander grows. In this country, oleander blooms for six consecutive months of the year. They can't get much sunlight. I think the yellow, the color is like primroses. I haven't seen primroses in fifteen years, and there is the fragrance of cinnamon bamboo. Those zinnias are beautiful too, right? - Coupled with those wonderful undertones, it's like a flower in a painting. These are African calendula. It's not a high-end thing, it's almost just weeds, but you can't help but love them, so bright, so strong. Indians have a deep affection for them, and wherever there are Indians, you will see calendula growing, even after years of hiding everything from the jungle. Still, I hope you can go up to the balcony and see the orchids. I'm going to show you a couple of them that look a lot like golden bells — really like gold. They also smell like honey, and it's irresistible. That's probably the only good thing about this damn country, which is that it's suitable for flowers. You probably love gardening, right? In this country, this is our greatest consolation. ”

"Oh, I love gardening," the girl replied.

They went up to the balcony. Kosla hurriedly put on his shirt and the best pink silk turban, and he came out of the house with a plate containing a bottle of gin, a few glasses, and a box of cigarettes. He placed them on the table and bowed as he looked at the girl with a slight uneasiness.

"I'm afraid I can't ask you for a drink at this time of morning. I have never been able to convince my servants that some people don't have to drink gin before breakfast. ”

It seemed that he had counted himself as well, for he waved his hand and motioned for Kosra to remove the wine from his serving. The girl sat on the wicker chair that Kosla had set up for her on the balcony. Orchids with dark leaves hung down behind her head, and a few golden bunches of flowers exuded a warm honey fragrance. Flory stood leaning against the balcony railing, half facing the girl, but still hiding the **** on her face.

"It's a wonderful view from here," she said, looking down the hill.

"Yes, that's true. It's beautiful in the twilight of the sun before it sets. I love the dim yellow of the playground, the phoenix trees, like a little crimson. And the mountains on the horizon, almost black. My camp is on the other side of the mountain," he added.

The girl was a little farsighted, and she took off her glasses and looked into the distance. He noticed that her eyes were bright light blue, lighter than bellflowers. He also noticed that the skin around her eyes was smooth, almost like flower petals.

(End of chapter)

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