Golden Harvest

Jiahe is separated, and the seedlings of the soil are behind.

Fireworks and stars.

Those who are sleepy, what can they ask for?

Those who start to step down, what do you want for a thousand miles!

"Sir, what is Golden Harvest?" The child's voice is immature, although he has passed the age of Meng, he is just a child, and it is not an exaggeration to say that he does not know Jiahe.

"He gets two ears for Jiahe; The teacher has two sons, and he is a good teacher. The gentleman replied. The gentleman's face is thin, and the texture of his sackcloth is not inferior, and there are no traces of repair, so it can be seen that it is from the hand of a clever woman, and he is more particular than that of ordinary farmers.

Mr. naturally can't be counted as a farmer, a said that he is a scholar in Bayang, has read a few barnyard official history, knows a few words of benevolence, righteousness, etiquette and letters, only to learn shallow and not to be a scholar, so he came to teach in the west to make a living; The other said that he was a scholar from another country, and he traveled to study in the orange land, which coincided with the vacancy of Mr. Xuejuku, and picked up a ready-made.

The west is not in the official road, and there are no gorgeous things of ceramic silk, and the land is remote and sparsely populated. A big river crosses the land, divides this place into two, the east of the river is called the west of the fang, and the territory of the fang country; Hexi is called Qidong, which belongs to Qiguo. As for this big river, the country of Qi is called the Jiang River, and the country of Qi is called the water of Qi.

Citrus and Qi are evil, the river is divided, the two places do not build bridges, the chickens do not crow, the dogs do not bark, and the old and dead do not interact with each other. Fishing near the water is fishing, but it is not the heart of the river, it all depends on the fish to get close. The fish are cunning, especially the red-tailed carp, wandering in the heart of the river, playing tricks on the fishermen in the two places, so that it is difficult to find a fish in Bayang, and the landlords are rich in order to be able to raise a red-tailed carp.

"Sir, do you have a class today?" It's still the nine-year-old child, who has been squatting on the edge of the ridge for a long time, tirelessly watching his husband harvest rice, his face is sweaty, and he asks, "If I don't teach, I'll play." ”

"No," Mr. wiped a handful of sweat, got up and saw the bitter face of the doll, his heart softened, and he said softly, "Jue, there is a degree of play, you can't be wasted in learning, the day after tomorrow you recite "Jiahe", I forgot to find ......"

The child's little face was dripping with sweat, as if he had been pardoned, and he shouted as he ran: "I know, sir, I forgot to go to Yanzhou, ask him for more advice."

Last year's winter solstice, when it was cold, his mother woke him up, he rubbed his eyes, and called his mother. His mother tied him in two buns, and smiled with a smile in her eyebrows: "I am a year older, and I am a little longer."

After tying up the bun, Mr. Meng knocked on the door, held a roll of bamboo slips, and gave him a salute first, and he returned the salute and asked, "Who are you?"

"Meng Lan." Mr. Meng dusted off the snowflakes and went into the house to face the fire.

"My name is ......" He also wanted to report to his home, but he couldn't remember, so he threw himself into the arms of his mother, and asked with tears in his eyes, "Mother, who am I?" ”

Mr. Meng pushed the door, pointed to the fang river and said, "There is a water name citrus in front of the door, and you take the citrus as your clan."

"Is my name orange? Mother. He looked at his mother and wanted to make sure.

Mr. Meng closed the door, fiddled with the fire, and waited for the fire to be lit, and then said, "Let's call it Citrus Jue."

"Which Jue?" He asked.

"Shuangyu is Jue," Mr. Meng replied and asked, "Is it okay for Meng Lan to teach Jue in a few days?" ”

Waiting for Jue to nod, Mr. Meng left the bamboo slips, pushed the door and went out, submerging in the wind and snow. Jue stood at the door and arched his hand and said, "Mr. Meng, go slowly."

After Mr. Meng left, his mother led him to bury bamboo slips in the bamboo forest behind the house and pile up a small dirt bag.

"Jue, kneel down," the mother said mournfully, "but the grain and poetry and books can support people, you must remember." ”

"But the grain and the poetry book can support people," Jue repeated, and replied with an oath, "Remember, mother." ”

Zongxi is not big, Jue respects his mother, Menglan as his teacher, Chang'an as his neighbor, Yanzhou as his friend, no matter how many people, he can't remember.

Jue folded a bunch of wild chrysanthemums, jumped up, and went down the peach and plum mountain. The solar term has passed the autumn equinox, and the houses and ridges are fragrant with rice, which is the scene of a good year.

"Jue, are you thirsty?" On the ridge road, someone greeted.

Jue tilted his head and looked at him for a while, and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Uncle Yu, and you forgot again?" The man smiled bitterly, full of regret, what a well-behaved doll, a pity.

Jue nodded, pointed to the girl beside Uncle Yu and asked, "Uncle Yu, who is that?"

"My daughter, Yuchan," Uncle Yu replied to Jue, and said to Yuchan in a loud voice, "Chan'er, say hello to Jue." ”

Yuchan pursed her lips and grimaced at Jue, this boring trick again, what a big idiot.

Jue got closer, saluted Yuechan, and handed out the wild chrysanthemum in his hand, and when Yuchan took it, he said with a smile: "When we meet for the first time, I am the Mandarin Jue, the Mandarin of the Mandarin River, and the Jue of Shuangyu."

"Fortunately, God favors me, and this year I will collect two more stone of rice, but the tax is one stone more than in previous years, saying that the war is tight, but I pity my boss, and there is no news." Huang Jue is worry-free, Yugu is worried, and when Tang Jue is far away, he pours a bowl of tea and complains.

"Oh, don't worry, when Chan'er grows up, go find my brother back." Yuchan replied.

There are white horses and green shirts from the ridge, the horse's hooves are clattering, and the green shirt guest looked at the girl called Chan'er with great interest, and said: "I am still young, but my appearance is handsome, and my eyebrows are sword-eyed, but I am a rare good embryo."

"Who are you?" Yuchan held the urn in one hand and the bowl in the other, hid behind her father's back, and asked out loud.

"Muse, from afar," the visitor paused, raised the broadsword in his hand, and continued, "Bright eyes hide sword light, blue eyebrows hide sword intent, are you willing to learn swords?" ”

"I don't want to." Yuchan shook her head and ignored the green-shirted guest.

The farmer took a clean pottery bowl, took the urn from the girl's hand, poured a bowl of tea, and offered it with both hands.

The green-shirted guest took the tea, poured it down, smacked his lips, and exclaimed: "Good tea, if you want to learn swords, go to Jianling to find me."

"Whew, wasting a good sip of tea in vain." Yuchan muttered. Yuchan has an elder brother who learns swords, but he has not returned for six years, and his life and death are uncertain. She didn't want to learn swords, she was afraid that she wouldn't see her father; She is willing to learn swords, afraid that she will not be able to find her brother.

"Whoa, where is the Sword Tomb? Is it farther than Citrus aurantium? Yuchan pointed west along Bashan, and heard Mr. Meng say that the oranges were all over there.

"Alas," he sighed, pouring a large bowl of tea, "harvest the rice." ”

Yuchan carried the urn, looked at the white horse and green shirt half-hidden in the rice field, and remembered his name, Jianling Muse.

"Mother, Mr. Meng said, I won't teach today, and I won't teach tomorrow, just let me recite "Jiahe"." Jue said truthfully.

"Remember? Carry it to your mother. The mother encouraged.

Jue shook his head, his little face was bitter, and he said angrily: "I can't remember, I can't remember a word."

"Jiahe is separated, and the seedlings of the soil are behind. Fireworks and stars. Those who are sleepy, what can they ask for? Those who start to step down, what do you want for a thousand miles! The mother was speechless, and before she finished reading, she couldn't cry. Mr. Meng only taught Jue this "Golden Harvest" for nearly a year.

"My mother doesn't cry, it's all bad for Jue," Jue was full of tears, wiped her tears for her mother, and chanted, "But Guzi and poetry can raise people." ”