A cup of chrysanthemum tea, a book of poetry, a few nostalgic songs, in this midsummer with me to build a spiritual fence courtyard, the courtyard planted a few green bamboos and elegant flowers, to give the heart a little cool, a little beauty, a little leisurely reverie.

In the quiet years, I just want to be a clean and simple woman, wearing a cloth skirt printed with pure orchids, even if I want to walk into the mortal dust surrounded by fireworks, I still maintain my kind and gentle nature, and silently guard the simplest happiness in the passing years.

Wait for someone, walk into that door with me, open that window, watch the clouds and clouds drunk dreams, dawn fog and smoke, wait for the flowers to bloom, the moon is full and the moon is full, even if you are old, you can laugh side by side.

Flipping through the book casually, I saw the word "cherish fate" somewhere, and I was inexplicably touched. I've heard too many oaths, and I've read too much about Lao Yan's separation. After struggling for a long time, I still choose to believe that in this confusing Qianmo, there must be a beautiful legend that we don't know.

Yes, in the rolling red dust, in the wind and sand, after the changing fate and extinction, I already believe in the legend of the past and present lives, otherwise, how can there be so many crazy men and women bowing devoutly in front of the Green Lantern Buddha?

Yesterday evening, my mother went out with my father with a basket. Soon they heard the sound of their laughter opening the door, and saw my mother open the door with a smile and walked in, followed by my father with a basket of mangoes the size of goose eggs in his calloused hands. At this time, my mother even opened her voice: "If you don't pick it up, I'm afraid you'll let others pick it all, look at it, all of them are so big, how good?" This is what children love to eat. "It turned out that they had gone to the field to pick mangoes. Watching themselves pick a basket full of free fruits, the two old men were like children who had just played a game, and they returned with a smile on their faces.

Some time ago, my mother was full of salted duck eggs. Today, she cooked a few for the family to taste, and the child happily said that the egg yolk was delicious, the father said that it was just right to be salty, and the mother's face showed a satisfied smile. Now, what she is happiest about is that the whole family likes to eat the meals she cooks.

The father's back of the ear and the old demeanor of the dragon bell made everyone more and more happy, sometimes the mother muttered a few words to the father in the back, and the father did not react at all, the mother smiled: "This back of the ear also has the benefit of the back of the ear, and he will not quarrel with the same as before." We all looked at each other and smiled.

Father and mother's generation are united by matchmakers, they have not fallen in love before the flower, they have not made any promises to each other, I can't see them and me, I can't hear their sweet words, I can only remember the pots and pans in their plain and simple life. Although they have never made any promises for each other, they have used their lives to make the most solemn promises in each other's lives.

Perhaps, in the eyes of our father's generation, the promises of modern people seem to be a little shallow and naïve, they have long hidden mutual promises deep in their hearts, into deep responsibilities and obligations, that wrinkles carved by the years, will explain the story of their time. Time will change the glamorous face, and suffering will verify the hearts of the people around us. For me, I don't want to see the sky flying outside the courtyard wall, I just want to work with his parents to brew a pot of chrysanthemum tea until it is tasteless, to say those stupid words to speechless, to salvage the simplest life in the long river of years, and to witness the promise that it is not smoke in the world of fireworks.

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