Restrained in his mind, Mo Liunian sat at the window, gently put down his pen, looked at the words shallowly, concentrating, lying quietly, guarding the silence of one side, half a cup of tea, so that those gratuitous conjectures and exaggerated images were set aside and exiled into the distance.

A note of heart, the fragrance of tea, write down the taste of autumn in the memory, the passing years, toast to the past, plain, indifferent to joy, indifferent to sadness, a good attitude, a kind treatment, in the quiet, in the mellow fragrance of autumn, write down the feelings, smile to the warmth, enjoy the autumn rhyme and autumn scenery in the slow passage of time, and feel the joy and sorrow in the past life.

Leaning in front of the window, holding a teacup in his hand, a cup of tea, and taking in all this, isn't this also a kind of happiness? And when the night is like water, what a pleasure it is to play chess pieces with you!

The long spring light wanders outside the window, shallow and profound. The cups of tea, the pearls and jades scattered on the plates, and the paintings of Xiaocha's random graffiti are all quietly put aside. Sometimes I feel that everything at the moment is like a dream, and I am clearly still that girl, leaning on an old window, not knowing the sorrow and sadness in the world.

Jin Se year, a wisp of sorrow will not regret it, half a tear melts into two forgets, after years of meditation folding, Qianmo flying, drinking Fanghua alone, prosperous three thousand, Fangzhi Xinlan, plain and calm, a leisurely, floating like flowing clouds, taste a song Zen sound is misty, quietly enjoy the feeling of always on the road, the most beautiful you are on the road, light and slow, and the world, no noise, snow condensation heart lake, polished day after day tranquility.

Falling leaves and empty mountains, the years are late. Meizhuang meditates, burns incense and tastes tea, the days seem to be a simple repetition, but the scenery outside the window is clear and changes with time, deep and orderly. The streamer is lonely, it is really no tea and no joy, no tea and no quiet. Now I only feel that the woman's ambition is to be a simple and quiet person, comfortable in the hall and corridor, not running in the world, simple and quiet.

The years should have been our paradise, there should have been a rattan chair, a cup of tea, and a bright moon. Let the wind blow in all directions, let the winter snowflakes fall, this small world, should indulge yourself and nature. In the mottled shadow of the sun, lazily reading an idle book, hazy mind and ears, without seeking to understand. Or, go out and watch the people coming and going downstairs, watch the laughter and scolding of this trivial world, and then laugh as a bystander.

Perhaps, accustomed to wearing cloth clothes and no makeup, let the pure heart be like snow, do not like publicity, not afraid of noise, keep a quiet rhyme with their own plain rhyme, in their own heart of half an acre of peach source, repair fences and plant chrysanthemums, like to rely on the landscape, dialogue with flowing water, let the ink fragrance of the text, attached to every corner of the soul, also like, in the spare time, sit in the corner of time, read a book to no words, drink a tea to tasteless, will see a story tears.

In the rainy Jiangnan alleys of the previous life, you and I went to the appointment, watching you hold an umbrella and walk in the rain and smile shallowly. In order to keep time from going so fast, I sat quietly outside the long street of the galaxy. Let the rain wet the moon and never forget, pick up the pen and draw your smile into a dream; let the calm after the flowers bloom take away the slightest loneliness, my painting on the platform is the Huafa of a lifetime.

Don't look back! Let it go!