death.bleach slowly left, and the old woman's eyes were a little concerned, she didn't know what the other party was about, but he seemed to know everything, that's right, her real name is Wang Liangqing, and this name has not been mentioned for more than 20 years, to say that the most intimate name is Qingqing, the person called Qingqing is no longer in this world, he has become dust with the disappearance of Qi Village, that person is An Xu, thinking of An Xu, her eyes are lonely. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

She turned around and walked away slowly, the place where she lived was not too far from here, as death.bleach said, although she kept changing Internet cafes, but this was the place, and she admired the mysterious person.

The emaciated back slowly faded away, and the fate of a village seemed to be on her back, and she seemed to be carrying a secret that could not be forgotten for a long time.

Soon Wang Liangqing came to her residence, she was packing her things, and one of the letters caused her to remember, it was a letter from An Xu to him many years ago, it was a soft love, it was a warmth.

"Qingqing, the crowd is looking for you thousands of times, and the years are withered and glorious"

We will always meet a lot of people in life, some people pass by, some people go all the way, some people stop and walk, some people never go back, who is shocked by the spirit of the heart, who is slightly rippling the bright spots of the past? Some people, some things, will not be like falling flowers because of the flow of eyes, they are like a silent vicissitudes of life, painted on the bones, so imprisoned time, dazzling the years. The tenderness fluttering between our eyebrows, the slight sweat on the wings of our noses, and the sparkling of the cut water in our eyes have nothing to do with the wind and moon, but they care about each other the most.

The light and mellow breath, the wordless pride, the gentle sipping of plain color, the bright and brilliant crystal, the clear, that, you are like a string and a pillar of the Duan Jinse, turned into a trace of eternal lingering, sympathetic in my world, fluttering into a wisp of jasmine sleeves. Ru Su Annian, bracing his cheeks and gazing, must be the previous life of you charming my dream, trimmed my a piece of Su paper, this is unforgettable, this meaning is not young, so the encounter in this life, do not need too many words, as long as the casual glance, look at each other and smile, everything will be frozen.

The wind of August, the staggered hearts of a hundred turns, stranded a piece of agarwood in life, I polished the three years of youth high school, into a wisp of heart incense, and took it to another city. I fixed it on the square inch, but I didn't want it to linger in your Qianmo, so I provoked this fate for no reason. Under the moon, the shallow rhyme and deep rhythm of the moonlight is the distress I have painted for you, and I don't know if it is the uneasiness in your eyes, or the panic between your eyebrows that makes me wither the wall of my heart and remove the protection. Qingqing that, I just want to bypass such distress far away from the end of the world, such a strong affection through the length of the cape, quietly hidden in the depths of the red, going around and around, the vines are long, endless.

I lowered my eyebrows and lowered my head, carefully caring for your cool heart, and carefully managing this tactful and gentle confession. Since then, the cold and warm vegetarian, the end of the world is broken, that is a high degree of tacit understanding, all say that people should know each other's hearts and cold, but only one look can understand each other's minds, cold and warm peace. It is a friendship that will not be forgotten until death, even if you are a few light years away from me, I will trace the cycle of life, catch up with your footsteps, and look at the end of the world. That, you are like a swan song, the dark night has crossed my mind, trapped me in your heart lake, rippling and fluttering. There is no wind and snow moon, no water moon mirror flowers, no amorous style, just two sympathetic hearts, gently outlining a season of Ji Fangfei, and dyeing a curtain of dark fragrance and sparse shadows.

If I go against the wheel, I am also a pedestrian. People say that only by letting everything stop at the best time can we keep the beauty forever. On the reverse journey of life, my desolate and desolate soul moaned and murmured in the smoke-like world, carrying the truest beauty of life, and gradually drifting away as a pedestrian. In some movies, the light button deeply hides the sound of their hearts. My life is also like a movie, which is broadcast live by life, maybe someone will quit halfway, someone will come, and what I want to do is to appear on the stage, silently stay in place, or sigh or sigh under the stands.

If my life is a vision, then Qingqing one, are you willing to be a blueprint for a silhouette of my life? In the eight months of drunkenness, there is the ripple of the spring breeze, the flip of the summer thunder, the rain and cold of the autumn night, and the beauty of the winter snow, I hope you can stranded your suddenness and dazzle your happiness, even if I have not touched the lingering fragrant Fei. That, I soaked the pear blossom white of a tree, oozing with amber, I used a light of tea to clear the filth of the red dust, waiting for a pair of lotus to bloom, then that, you must be the sister flower born with the same root as me.

Qingqing that, your infinite charm of smoke and rain, filled with my thousands of years of reincarnation, I know that it is your inseparable old age, guarding in the warm water Mei, picking up my sorrows and joys in the quiet strings, and sharing my joys and sorrows. I wish I could be a tepid woman, abiding by a sense of safety, writing a delicate heart, and watching everything around me indifferently, but the reality is always helpless, as you said, I am convinced. If possible, I think we will replace the floating name with a light drinking song, so that the years will be amazing and each other will be mellow.

April in the north here is also a tangled contradiction, half sad, half bright, in the morning is the cold snow in the sky, the clouds are scattered at noon, and in the afternoon you will see a touch of tender green budding. Sure enough, the materialism of high school politics is not wrong, things are always in motion. Winter thunder and summer snow are illusory, people are realistic, and memories are always shallow, some things can go back to the past, can not go back to the beginning, we will eventually rush forward vigorously, why lonely as before? Why is it so strange?

Some uneasiness began with the entanglement and ended with strangeness, so I tried to understand my own love and hate in the joys and sorrows of others. That, I think I am an impermanent person, but you can tell that I have an incomprehensible sorrow, a bend of the eyebrows of loneliness, and a diluted shield. I don't know if it's the tacit understanding of getting along for a long time or the sudden shock in my heart, this feeling makes me laugh far-fetched.

The fireworks will be grateful, the sheng song will stop, the green plum will wither, the bamboo horse will grow old, and the eight months of getting along will be like a gentle murmur in the lonely night wind. I was parked in the gap of time, motionless and watchful in place, for fear of missing someone's silent looking back, but I had to watch the people around me look at the end of the world, the end of the world, each for their own safety. Maybe all I have left now is the slight coolness of a leaf's eyes, the perception of a sigh, the emptiness of a constant thought, and I define this feeling as powerless.

Qingqing that, to me, you are a shallow drop of ink, like the moonlight in the wine cup, retreating from the voice, silent, desolate, a piece of rice paper copying your secret totem. That, I think my right hand can warm you by the youth kissed by the prime of life, I think the curvature of the corners of my lips can warm you by the fate of the cold autumn water, this kind of warmth is not pretentious, not pretentious, not biting, not entangled, not clever words, not shh Some encounters are like a rose in the past, a body of jagged thorns, and they are embellished. Some encounters, like the green lotus in the water, the proud world without vines and branches, each of them is stunned.

The long and short encounters in the world are just the gathering and dispersion of joys and sorrows in reincarnation, and the consumption of forbearance between thoughts. Qingqing that, I look for you thousands of times, sunrise to twilight, even if there are thousands of twists and turns, I am willing to turn this kind of tossing and turning into the sunshine where you have nowhere to escape, and I will not change it in this life. Life should be like a fish drinking water, cold and warm self-knowing, maybe the thin and cool that is derived from it is the silence of thousands of sails, or how much bitterness and helplessness are contained in the sigh of the long and gloomy voice. It's like only after experiencing it can you know the strength of the wine, the warmth and coldness of the feelings, and since then there has been no emotion or concern.

Idle words are sad and embarrassed, I put my heart into a knot, knot into silk, like a goblin in the silk hole, binding others and holding myself. I poured out without words, tactfully and truthfully, and you listened alone, silently. That, I am most touched by your tolerance, in fact, I am also grateful, you are like a lonely scroll, my bad temper must be the small seal full of volumes, you have a big tolerance. I'm the kind of person who is obsessed, I can exchange hearts for a stream of clouds, a dream, and a play, that, thank you for making me feel weak when I can rely on it. Some people say that you want to live in the moment, so even if I am overwhelmed by trivial things, I will never fail to live up to this cup of tea brewed with a strong taste of the world.

When the ink is wet, it is your words that I am here, it is the habitual dependence you give, and it is your sincere treatment for eight months. My dear, I know that my thick branches and leaves are annoying, my confusion makes people speechless, your red eyes at noon that day, your forced smile that night, I don't know how much sourness and disappointment. My dear, I don't know if you still disdain this belated blessing, that, I'm sorry, I looked for you a thousand times, but I was three days late when I was a year old.

Some uneasiness began with the entanglement and ended with strangeness, so I tried to understand my own love and hate in the joys and sorrows of others. That, I think I am an impermanent person, but you can tell that I have an incomprehensible sorrow, a bend of the eyebrows of loneliness, and a diluted shield. I don't know if it's the tacit understanding of getting along for a long time or the sudden shock in my heart, this feeling makes me laugh far-fetched.

The fireworks will be grateful, the sheng song will stop, the green plum will wither, the bamboo horse will grow old, and the eight months of getting along will be like a gentle murmur in the silent night wind. I was parked in the gap of time, motionless and watchful in place, for fear of missing someone's silent looking back, but I had to watch the people around me look at the end of the world, the end of the world, each for their own safety. Maybe all I have left now is the slight coolness of a leaf's eyes, the perception of a sigh, the emptiness of a constant thought, and I define this feeling as powerless.

Qingqing that, to me, you are a shallow drop of ink, like the moonlight in the wine cup, retreating from the voice, silent, desolate, a piece of rice paper copying your secret totem. That, I think my right hand can warm you by the youth kissed by the prime of life, I think the curvature of the corners of my lips can warm you by the fate of the cold autumn water, this kind of warmth is not pretentious, not pretentious, not biting, not entangled, not clever words, not shh Some encounters are like a rose in the past, a body of jagged thorns, and they are embellished. Some encounters, like the green lotus in the water, the proud world without vines and branches, each of them is stunned.

The long and short encounters in the world are just the gathering and dispersion of joys and sorrows in reincarnation, and the consumption of forbearance between thoughts. Qingqing that, I look for you thousands of times, sunrise to twilight, even if there are thousands of twists and turns, I am willing to turn this kind of tossing and turning into the sunshine where you have nowhere to escape, and I will not change it in this life. Life should be like a fish drinking water, cold and warm self-knowing, maybe the thin and cool that is derived from it is the silence of thousands of sails, or how much bitterness and helplessness are contained in the sigh of the long and gloomy voice. It's like only after experiencing it can you know the strength of the wine, the warmth and coldness of the feelings, and since then there has been no emotion or concern.

Idle words are sad and embarrassed, I put my heart into a knot, knot into silk, like a goblin in the silk hole, binding others and holding myself. I poured out without words, tactfully and truthfully, and you listened alone, silently. That, I am most touched by your tolerance, in fact, I am also grateful, you are like a lonely scroll, my bad temper must be the small seal full of volumes, you have a big tolerance. I'm the kind of person who is obsessed, I can exchange hearts for a stream of clouds, a dream, and a play, that, thank you for making me feel weak when I can rely on it. Some people say that you want to live in the moment, so even if I am overwhelmed by trivial things, I will never fail to live up to this cup of tea brewed with a strong taste of the world.

When the ink is wet, it is your words that I am here, it is the habitual dependence you give, and it is your sincere treatment for eight months. My dear, I know that my thick branches and leaves are annoying, my confusion makes people speechless, your red eyes at noon that day, your forced smile that night, I don't know how much sourness and disappointment. My dear, I don't know if you still disdain this belated blessing, that, I'm sorry, I looked for you a thousand times, but I was three days late when I was a year old.

I am a mundane thing that has not fully understood Bodhi, with the weakness of the mortal womb of the flesh, clear that, but I am also willing to crush the bright moon in order to find you, rugged and stormy, in order to find you lost thousands of degrees, and a year old glory and withering, this shallow rhyme and deep rhythm will be sung for you in the next life, and the details will be told from the beginning.

An Xu left a pen.

Looking at this, Wang Liangqing's eyes were blurred, and the letter she caressed with her dry fingers was his love for her, and she would never forget it.