Xingyu nodded to the two and left, and Mo Liunian sent them out.

Then please don't forget whose piccolo this is, blowing a pool of spring water? The wind shakes the dew, and the aftertaste is drunk. Who can hold the flying flowers of the past years and the feelings that have been touched forever? Perhaps, on the road, in the red dust, we only meet once, but in the soul we have experienced thousands of times.

When the time comes in a trance, I will always think of all the memories, familiar people, and fragmented thoughts one by one, occupying all the things that have stayed in my mind, and often, in the inadvertent flow of thoughts, the layered conjectures, such as the time of flowing water, the withering of falling flowers, have long been gone. Is this also the palpitations that have passed through the years, singing all our joys and sorrows in the Qing Que of a lifetime.

A wisp of fragrance blooms every night, and a sigh and a trace of sand in a lifetime. The bright moon falls and the words are complicated, and the night rain washes the windows. Gongshang Jiao Huiyu, who allowed me to be beautiful for half a lifetime? I always walked alone, wandering the streets, the sky fell red rain, and the dust in my heart. The lotus is drunk, the cicadas are drunk, and the fragrance of wine surrounds the painting beam. Finger red dust, who the hopper turns to the stars, the rain is sparse and the wind is sudden, and the drunken shadow laughs and is shocked. The vicissitudes of life, who will return my years?

After the prosperity, who secretly sighed in the depths of the clouds and smoke that children were long, the curtain of dreams like water and moon mirrors, no matter how they were salvaged, only a place of melancholy. In the long silent night, there is a sigh of no reason written on the plain paper, and only the memories of yesterday tell the beauty of the past. What is the night of tonight? People walk through the empty city and look through the autumn water; what is the night of tomorrow? Forget the river and do not hate, and meet Yanran again. Lonely shadow self-pity, flowers bloom without traces, like beautiful flowers, like water flowing years, I believe that one person can promise me a lifetime of Chang'an.

Leaning on the railing, the west wind was tight, and the thoughts between his eyebrows were so helpless. The night sighed softly, rolled up the sentimentality of the ground, and was speechless and desolate. Drunk and dyed with tears and rain idiot, Shaohua secretly changed the smile and frost, Su Jian Yingmo was sad and resentful, that is cold, and the ink is like that?

Fireworks are easy to cold, and prosperity is easy to pass away. Several spring and autumn, several times lonely. Before the moon before the drunken wind, he smiled between the bamboo fences. It is not like stagnant water, but it looks forward to the bright moon and clear wind. A cloud of smoke and rain, a piece of paper, leaning on the west wind, but looking at right and wrong, looking back and coming back, it is not as good as ever. Walking all over the red dust, who will give me a year?

The other side of the year, you and I will eventually become strangers, this year, you accompany me through the most beautiful end of summer, I silently watched you leave, the background of your distance gradually blurred, and finally disappeared in the smoke and rain, countless flowers fell with the wind, a slight coolness, a touch of grievances, wait for the end of the next summer, I will forget the sad ending, wait for the end of the next summer, I will regain a smile.

Look at the clouds and the breeze is light, listen to the ebb and flow of the tide, and the forest flowers thank the spring red, just because they are too hurried......

Getting together and parting, sometimes it takes a thousand turns, and sometimes it only needs to change over the years. Time is the most ruthless sword, which can chop up years and cut off love.

The Yiren are alone, it is better to go back, and see the autumn water on the other side, and on the lonely boat guarded alone, the strings have already fallen with dust. A cup of herbal tea was faint, and I thought that I had seen the vicissitudes of life, and the red dust and tears had dried in the desolation of the lonely sandbar. However, when the snowflakes fall in winter today, they are partial and recalled. Don't look at this leafy bookhead that has been sealed for a long time, the old Qingying Yanshan, Xiaoxiang twilight rain, are not as good as this Jiangnan dream. Seeing the moon again, the east wind of the small building, the flowers and shadows, it is unbearable to look back on the red dust of the cold light of the waning moon.

The spring dew slipped from the fingertips, splashed out a beautiful flower, leaving a line of sad traces, in the dream! Who is walking through? side by side under the rain flower umbrella, in the memory of the passing years gradually drifted away, leaving a touch of cold time, smiling and watching the flowers bloom and fall and people come and go.

Qingchen, woman, ethereal and light, red dust is quiet. Life is originally a wandering and beautiful journey, people are rootless, ethereal as dust, like the wind like a dream in the world, and lonely and helpless. Ink painting sends poems, the pen falls and the pen is also beautiful, with words as needles, love as the line, the sorrow is worn into a string in the shallow time, swaying into a blurred past. A few words, the affection between the lines, thinned the lonely past.

On a quiet rainy night, make a cup of tea, smoke and drink on the other side, a few fishing fires stationed in whose house is melancholy? The years, stranded, the butterflies that can't be waved away, are tied in my heart. The sea of hearts waved lightly, and the boat swayed slightly, and the thin face looked at each other with tears. The thoughts were quietly left on the fingertips, and the geese on the waterfront pierced the pond again. A lifetime of dust is confused, drunk three generations of dust dreams of the original hometown, who throws the fire of love in the dream, and can't keep the heartwarming past after waking up from the dream.

The footsteps are hurried, and the red dust is rolling. You came, he or she left; You're gone, she's coming.

Criss-crossed, floating shadows. Let the butterflies fly across the sea, and manage the affairs of the world. only guards the regret that passed by by a mistake, and only remembers the warmth of looking back and smiling.

Not pretentious, not obsessive, just willing to stop in the same place, with an indifferent filter of all the joys, sorrows, sorrows and joys of the floating life, and write the fleeting expression into an eternal legacy of happiness.

Like beautiful flowers, like water, time is like being washed by the green rain that is not stained with dust, and the places where time has passed have become memories that are difficult to let go of in the future.

I also wanted to raise dust on the ancient road, fold willows in the long pavilion, and also wanted to walk through the mountains and rivers, boating in the rivers and lakes, and also wanted to listen to the rain under the eaves, and add fragrance to the red sleeves.

In a daze, it is unbearable to look back, Fangfei is easy to get old, galloping for years, the tears of Yang Hua who are at a loss for words rise with the wind, and your hairpin can't keep the flying flotsam all over the city.

The passing years are quiet, the years are silent, and the dream of tomorrow is a light end.

After several sorrows, scars of the years, and walking like water, is it one of those scenery that is too urgent?

Even if the mottled light and shadow in the years deceive each other with a barren attitude, the promises in life are like the answers given by time to the old, sometimes blindly looking for the way back when they came, forgetting the original pride.

Yes, hurriedly walked through like this, that's it, that's it, the melancholy of dancing lightly on the ground with a light twist, the loneliness is too deep, the joy is too little, and the night of splashing ink seems to be bewitching the lonely dreamer.

A night of singing and dancing can't lock the west curtain of things and people, how many times in the soul dream, back and forth, but for no reason let some fragmented sighs entangled.

The strings are freehand, and the strings are broken. The book has infinite things, and it is difficult to send it in spring.

Lying down and listening to the rain sycamore, the rain is light and the moon is hazy.

Where is the soul of a night's dream, that back to Yang Ye Building.

He said that Mo Liunian wanted wind and snow, poetry and painting, wine and tea, and then, he did it.

They said that he wanted to be beautiful like a flower and like a flowing year, but unfortunately, Mo Liunian couldn't do it.

I don't know once upon a time, we don't ask ourselves to be perfect, we just want to stand in front of the mirror and look at ourselves who occasionally make small mistakes but laugh a little funny.

The voice of the years, Mo Liunian quietly listened to the melody that never faded in the river of time.

Time is like gurgling water, taking away the time, leaving a story, walking through the dream scenery of the covered bridge, walking through the troublesome locks of the dream of the good period of the year, and leaving the sentimentality of the broken bridge.

There is no trace of falling flowers, the years are like water, and there are some traces of walking, no matter how I embellish them.

In the end, I can't add memories to those most beautiful moments, there are no sad colors, how many silhouettes, dark fragrances, how many flowers bloom, withering without traces.

The bitterness in the memory, often with my lonely questioning, the endless curtain of lovesickness dyed in the twilight sky, adding a few lingering sorrows to the window, asking with the pen, sighing but this drama of life.

The flowers are over, the dust and smoke have passed, and the rhyme of the years has pale falling at the foot of the wall of the passing years, and the sadness is out of tune to bury the loneliness after the end of the song.

A plain broken coat, swaying a thousand years of looking back.

The song in the wind, embellished with the passing black cry, the Huazhang that has been messed up for a season, swaying in the ancient alley pouring Tang wind and Song rain, provoked a chaotic red with nowhere to put it.

The light boat is beautiful and carries the song, sighs and sighs that the tidbits are withering, the film is drifting away, the tears are always speechless, the bleak is like the wind, the heavy mountains are re-shadowed, the boat is not dreaming of the past, carrying the song, sitting and watching the clouds rise and fall in the world, watching the falling flowers and flowing water, and the empty sigh is like a dream. Light years in life, how many of our stories, like the wind sweeping away the flowers and flowing water, the golden drunk paper is sad and tearful.

After the passing years, love and hate, love and hatred, everything has been in the sea, only the memory blooms into the life of the flowers, the wind flies the four seasons, no matter how the time changes, no matter how the years turn, it only cares about its own shallowness.

When Mo Liunian came back, he saw Xiao Banxian sitting on the edge of the bed, and Mo Liunian said, "It's finally safe." ”

The little half-immortal said: "When there is no obstacle, we will leave here to meet Mo Yan." ”

Mo Liunian nodded, waited from sunrise to sunset, and before Wujian woke up, the little half-immortal fed the pill water to Wujian and drank it according to the instructions, and after a stick of incense, Wujian woke up.

Wujian looked tired, and even a trivial matter like sitting up had to be supported by Xiao Banxian, who patted him on the shoulder: "Yes, there is a kind, I survived." ”

Innocent smiled bitterly: "Brother, I don't want to try a second time in my life." ”

The little half-immortal said: "Eat a trench to grow a wisdom, and hide away when you see the people of the Gu Poison Gate in the future." ”

I saw that Wujian had an expression that was very afraid of the dark after seeing the ghost, and hurriedly said: "Well, I don't dare to touch it in the future." ”

Mo Liunian said: "Are you hungry?"

Wujian touched his stomach: "It's okay not to say it, but I'm really hungry when I say it." ”

Mo Liunian immediately went to the hall to bring the steamed buns that had been warm, Mo Liunian said: "I'm really embarrassed to ask for more, I asked for five steamed buns, and you will just pad your stomach." ”

Wuzhi said: "Thank you, Sister Mo, I don't have much appetite, five steamed buns are enough." ”

After dinner, Wujian seemed to be in better spirits, and the three of them came to the Cave Heaven Blessed Land together, the door of the Cave Heaven Blessed Land was closed, Xingyu was guarding outside the building, and the little half-immortal asked: "Can I see Master Jiang now?"

Xingyu said: "Miss is still resting, I'm afraid it's inconvenient to meet." ”

The little half-immortal said: "Then I'll come back tomorrow." ”

The three of them returned to the welcome building, rested for the night, and said innocently at breakfast the next morning: "Brother, I'm fine, go back." ”

The little half-immortal was also worried about Mo Yan and them: "Are you really okay?"

Ah, it turns out that it's already such a night. The weather is fine tonight, and when I look up, I can only see a sky full of stars, a sky full of stars, a sky full of stars. They glowed with a cold light, and I looked at them in amazement, I had never seen such a brilliant starlight. When I was in West Lake, I was not even so surrounded by starlight, almost within reach, I could pick it up. They had saved my pleasure, and at once they were all over again, without reservation. My joy could not withstand the waves, and it collapsed. No one woke up, only I woke up, in this world, in such a starry night, only me, my heart is like a mirror, and my feelings are like light smoke. The melancholy is in vain, and the softness is involved.

My heart gradually became desolate and uncomfortable, but I felt that I was not wronged, so I went upstairs to sleep first. There was no light in the room, but the moon shone into the tent, and I leaned on a pillow with my clothes, and I knew that I fell asleep, as after weeping. I wrote a poem, a single road on this night, a laughing person in the past, and now come to the lower realm to worship the double stars. There are no words and tears, and I forget to harvest melons and fruits until dawn.

The wine jar on the table had not yet been taken away, and the room was dark in the night, he raised his hand and slowly pressed the mouth of the altar, silently listening to the sound of more water leaks in the room, one drop, another drop, and said softly, "Pei Jianwen...... Don't deceive others too much. Even more leaking, half a moment after Lu Yao left, the wine jar on the table couldn't bear the dark energy, and suddenly the turtle pattern suddenly opened, and it collapsed.

Poor Li Xian has never been so tossed in his life, his little body and bones are about to fall apart, and he will rest as soon as he returns home, and he has slept until the third pole of the sun and refuses to get up, no matter how Yanhong and other maids call, Li Xian just can't get out of the bed, and he completely forgot that he asked to get up early before going to bed.

If you miss the return date after all, will you leave a little earlier in this season next year, and will not let my soft heart accumulate into ice again......

However, she suddenly felt that the emotions in her heart were complicated, and she couldn't tell whether it was hatred, anger, surprise or melancholy. She looked at the sky, where the sun was climbing on the trunks of the trees, and the clouds were blue, which was naturally long before dusk, and even farther away from night.

When the young couple returned to their own courtyard, Wang Heng instructed the girls to turn around, and personally served Lin Xin'er, fed soup and medicine, and guarded her inch by inch. When he coaxed Xin'er to eat, he would call her "Xin'er", and when no one was around, he would whisper "Little Xinxin". When Xin'er slept, he read a book, and when Xin'er woke up, he told her stories about cultural monuments and history. Every morning and evening, he took her to the garden for a walk, picking flowers and fruits, and Mo Yun followed them all the time.

I slept and fell asleep, groggy and groggy, I didn't know life and death, and when I got to dawn, the golden dog woke up, and the river surface was already glowing brocade shop, very dazzling, and when I saw the people in the cabin, the people who were surveyed were gone. Out of the cabin, Fang saw that the boat was parked on the other side of the river, and hung a note on the cabin door, which read: "Thank you for your care, I will never forget it, because I have not woken up from the wine, I can't bear to disturb it, I leave a note and go, I hope to understand." “

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