"Good poetry, good poetry."

Jiang Jiumei took the lead in applauding, and then everyone present applauded. Although almost all of the people present did not hear the fame of these two poems, since some people took the lead in applauding, they had no choice but to applaud.

That's what it looks like, the party will be held until almost dawn, that is, it will be over.

After the party, after Xia Shiliu returned to her bedroom, she did not choose to rest, but calmed down and prepared to write a prose before going to rest. Although it was very lively in the palace before, Xia Shiliu was not happy. After all, because Ye Chen was not there, how could Xia Shiliu be happy.

Lovesickness is not a disease, but it is really uncomfortable to be sick.

Xia Shiliu used the candlelight to write:

The years are silent, separated from you and me, since then we have gone to the end of the world, crying, regretting each other without words, leaving only the face in the vicissitudes of life in the years, infatuated in the vicissitudes of life, singing a sad song, drunk and lovesick not accompanied.

The night is deep, silent, accustomed to a person's night, alone to taste the burning thoughts, quietly let the sadness spread, do not need to be accompanied, do not need to understand, get used to this simple, no waves of life, see through the life of indifferent and quiet, very clear, is their own can not get out of the shackles of memory, however, that kind of indifferent sadness, is a deep yearning in the heart.

Loneliness, longing for desolation, is to stay in the pale words of the pen, is the mess that has nowhere to indulge!

In the quiet night, Myanmar is entangled in feelings, depressed, unable to let go, always feeling that he is suppressed by an invisible force, at this moment, the thoughts are unprepared, the heart is touched, painful, abandoned in a cold corner.

I miss each other without words, and in the space of my heart, I write down my memories and sacrifice my empty love.

Every teardrop of longing, every cry of heartache, represents a despair of my sinking.

The cruel reality, cut the pious heart, the bloody soul of fear, crying in the middle of the night, self-pity, such a mood, so humble, waiting for the promise of cherishing the day for a long time, there has never been such an opportunity, maybe God has never given such a chance again, so live in this sad and fateful year!

The vast road of life, without companionship, I walk alone, all the way to find, all the way up, at every intersection, direction, stop and think, there is always a shadow of thoughts in my mind, pain can not be autonomous!

The fragile heart can't escape the calamity of that longing, and it's always sad and unreasonable.

Thinking of you is a must-have lesson for me every day, and loving you is a constant commitment throughout my life. While I think you love you, may you have a sunny mood.

There is no snow to be seen, and there is no love to be seen. Snow is invisible, and so is love. Winter comes, snow pours over the city; Love comes, love is alluring. In winter, the snow melts the water; Loved, tears of emotion.

In tens of millions of years, among tens of millions of people, in the endless wilderness of time, there is no earlier or later step, and I just happened to meet you.

Missing is a firework on a rainy day, which cannot be ignited and released, but can only be silently put in the heart.

Three lives of love, passing away in quicksand, a lifetime of love, only for the Yiren and haggard.

Thoughts can be like this, breathing with heartbeat, and the color in the sky is like the sadness in your eyes when you and I part. It was as if everything had stopped, and the heart that had just cooled a little bit was beating again.

All you can represent is the past that is full of forbearance. What I should remember is only the future that never existed in the future.

Who is empty, putting the Sauvignon Blanc under the staggered interpretation of the year. Sitting silently, my heart was soaked in the cold, and the pervasive worry in the water in the south of the Yangtze River quietly grew tender green grass, swaying as if fragile and unbearable, but so tenacious.

Unexpectedly, the beautiful sorrow of the season. A gust of wind swept by, rolling up the reluctance to part, at the moment when the figure turned away. Fan Dai pretended to wipe the years of youth, walked into the four seasons, and walked through reincarnation. Expect the beauty that precipitates in the memory. How many thoughts are involved like dust.

In the old dream of Hongchen, do you still miss the person who passed by, whether you are still waiting for the red bean that left lovesickness, watch it grow sadly in loneliness, see it become a faint sorrow unconsciously, and leave a poetic sympathy in the traceless years.

Thinking of the turbulent days, I silently watched the distant back, quietly reading the palpitations and sorrows you gave. I have prayed a thousand times that you would read my heart deeply, and I have asked you a thousand times to understand the pain behind my smile.

It's snowing, I seem to hear the sound of snow falling, is that your light footsteps? Thoughts are like snow, falling colorful, and the flying mood is wet and tactful. Insist on a waiting, continue a kind of beauty, and in the days when I think of you, I wish you a safe life. A love song, a thousand years of reverberation, a pulse of affection, even if it is unforgettable for 10,000 years.

The peach blossoms swayed in the moonlight, reflecting the thoughts. The evening breeze sends a faint fragrance but can't find shallow traces, like you, it seems to be in front of you, but in the sky. It was as hazy as fog and not fog, and it was blind, and it was scattered with a little bit of gloom. Afraid of being seen, his breath turned into a flickering smile. Raise your head, send a word of lovesickness, hold the soft clouds, and fly into your dreams.

The thoughts are endless, like the cellar of aged wine slowly poured into the heart, and the thoughts slowly overflowed, drunk with a crescent moon in the night sky. Endless thoughts, like a sad song, ethereal and clear, are the attachment in the heart, but also the distant thoughts. Endless thoughts, like dancing snowflakes, fluttering in the air with chic and romantic. Endless thoughts, listening attentively, boundless attachment, deep and shallow, thin a pipa language, and a faint dream.

Xia Shiliu stopped writing when she wrote this, then blew out the candle, and then went to bed to rest.

Originally, in the place of the Nine Immortals Lingzhi Valley, an elderly man appeared. This old man, probably in his fifties and sixties, has long white and black hair, and looks like a fairy.

"My Nine Immortal Lingzhi Valley, it's finally gone, hahaha."

This old man of the Immortal Wind Dao Bone is at the level of cultivation, but he is no longer in this plane. For this old man with immortal wind bones, this world is nothing.

"I've already done it, I've been waiting here for a long time. My good apprentice, the sixth generation of the Evil Emperor. ”

The Evil Emperor is a single-vein inheritance, and until the last moment, the Evil Emperor will not accept apprentices.

"Ahem, cough, sixth generation Evil Emperor, I didn't expect to be able to wait for you before I die."

This old man with immortal wind bones, while coughing violently, also took out a compass from his spatial ring.

The direction that this compass pointer is pointing in is the direction where the Nine Immortals Lingzhi Valley is now located.

"Ahem, wait for me, I'm coming."