Listening to Master Abigail's sad narration, Feng Tie silently wiped the rusty six-stringed harp in his arms with his sleeves, sometimes silently, sometimes smiling.
Upon seeing this, Abigail wiped away her tears and gently backed away. Feng Tie still sat in the corner of the thatched cottage without saying a word, just looking at the lyre in his arms in a daze.
Slowly, night fell, and a bright full moon climbed into the sky.
The moonlight shines on the pear blossoms all over the mountains and fields, reflecting soft light. The soldiers and horses have fallen into a deep sleep. Xiong Da is curled up on the stone table of the pavilion, having an unknown dream, with a glistening drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.
The dwarf Labelore hugged his knees with his hands and a straw stick in his mouth, sitting in a daze in the green grass, throwing his huge hammer casually at his feet.
Abelol looked at the full moon in the sky and thought to himself: "My master, today we have an old friend from your hometown in the Lihua Valley. This is a young man who is as weird as you were back then. I don't know.
Are you home now and how are you doing?"
The witch wearing a tattered white dress was placed by the waterhole. She was still leaning on the corner of the prison van, her long blond hair covering her face. She remained motionless, as if she had fallen asleep tiredly.
In such a quiet midnight, a melodious and sad music came from the thatched cottage. A young and experienced voice kept singing an unknown song, which seemed particularly melodious in this quiet night.
I started writing this story when the wind and snow were blowing in the middle of winter. I raised my head and looked out the window. The sun, moon and stars were changing with the cold and heat. When the film became an illustration. When the boy slowed down, when the road home was deserted, it was time to go to the rivers and lakes. Put down your bags and stop to see the vast sea.
It makes me miss my hometown. I am afraid of being lonely after being away for too long. I pour the sea water into the wine pot and take a sip while walking. You often say that this smell is called the rivers and lakes. Every time the pear blossoms bloom, the sound of your flute fills the mountains. I watch you as the sun rises and the moon rises.
The scene of falling day and night. I woke up in the middle of the night for so many years and searched for it. I forgot where I was and where I was going. I walked through the mountains and around the water. I couldn’t see the rivers and lakes. I read hundreds of books and traveled thousands of miles. What is the rivers and lakes? I drank blood with my sword and stepped on it.
Where are the rivers and lakes after crossing the barren bones? I thought I couldn't reach the rivers and lakes. You said this is the rivers and lakes. I packed up my bags and hit the road towards the end of the world. I rushed to the other side of my long-lost homeland. I have become accustomed to loneliness. Who heated up the wine again? Where are the two pots scattered between the vastness? My back is facing the sea far away.
When I left, I cried again. When the pear blossoms bloomed, the wind blew and the rain fell on the window lattice. I gently hummed the tune you blew in the past. The sound of the rain blended into this old flute. The rhythm was uneven. No one advised me to add clothes and watch with me all night.
Xiyu Mountain is a bit high and the water is a bit long. This is the rivers and lakes. Read some books and travel some roads. This is the rivers and lakes. The tip of the sword, drinking blood, life and death. This is the rivers and lakes. But without you, the rivers and lakes are no longer the rivers and lakes. After I finished writing this script, I looked at them alone at dusk.
It is said that the world is deep and a dream is just the past. There are always some people who are too serious but inadvertently separate. I think of those old friends who made me cry and laugh when they were young. In the end, we are also strangers in the world.
The singing Li Ren plucked the six-stringed qin in his hand, his voice rising and falling, full of parting emotions and deep sadness.
The witch moved her body, then stretched out her green fingers to push back her thick long hair, exposed her ears and listened carefully, with a sad look in her eyes.
She seemed to struggle for a while, then opened her mouth and spit out a dark heart-shaped pendant.
The pendant was full of cracks and holes. The witch tilted her head and thought for a moment, then put her soft lips to the holes and started playing. In response to the six-stringed harp and the desolate male voice, she made a whimpering sound, as low and hoarse as a flute.
, yet graceful and charming.
On a tree full of pear blossoms in the dense forest, a huge bat clung to the branch, sobbing and muttering to himself: "Who the hell sang this song? It's so sensational. Master, I miss you."
On the big rock under the waterfall, Master Abigail, who was dressed in Taoist robes, slowly shed two lines of clear tears on his face. He gently moved the quiet Jiaowei on his knees, letting the beating notes on the strings blend into this song.
The song makes me feel like I am lying in the teacher's arms again, quietly listening to the teacher telling my young self the story of my hometown in a deep voice.
Luofu suddenly woke up from his nightmare, sweating profusely and sitting in the tent, breathing heavily. After calming down and listening to this sad and lingering yet heroic song for a while, a bitter smile gradually appeared on Luofu's face.
Gently stroking the light pink sprouts that had grown on his broken leg, he tapped his fingers to a strong rhythm on the blade of the broad sword in response to the music.
Feng Tie played the guitar in his hand and sang his favorite songs in that world over and over again, but he increasingly felt that he was extremely lonely in this continent.
After singing it a dozen times, Feng Tie dropped the six-stringed qin in his hand, fell to the ground and burst into tears.
While crying, Feng Tie felt that the dim candlelight in front of him was blocked by a dark shadow.
He raised his head and looked at it. Master Abigail still had the imitation Jiao Tail under his arm. He stood quietly in front of Feng Tie, looking at Feng Tie with loving and compassionate eyes.
"Don't cry Feng Tie, come with me." Master Abigail said, "I think it's time to hand over the teacher's relics to you. I hope you can get the answers you want from these things."
Master Abigail held a candle and led Feng Tie into the depths of the pool. As the pool became deeper and deeper, the large candle was extinguished by the pool, and Master Abigail's mouth and nose gradually sank into the water.
.
Feng Tie followed Abigail's footsteps without hesitation. When he was completely submerged in the water, he surprisingly did not feel suffocated. The bubbles that kept rising to the surface of the pool seemed to have spirituality and constantly provided Feng Tie with plenty.
Without oxygen, when the two people walked to the center of the pool, a sudden underwater undercurrent swallowed them up instantly.
When Fengtie woke up from his dizziness, he was already in a towering pear forest. Fragrant pear petals were constantly flying in the air in the forest. Many fireflies landed on the mottled tree trunks and suddenly flew up.
, playing playfully with the falling flowers.
Feng Tie stood up with his hands on the ground and saw a small stone box placed in an open space in the middle of the woods.
Abigail smiled at Fengtie: "This is a parallel space in the valley. It is not the forest you saw when you came. It was opened up by my teacher with his own strength. Except for me and Ah
No one outside Belor knows."
After saying that, Abigail walked to the stone box with a solemn face and slowly knelt down. After kowtowing three times, she carefully opened the stone box and took out a yellowed sheepskin book from the stone box.
He held the booklet in front of Feng Tie with both hands.
"Look Fengtie, this is the most precious relic left by my teacher."
Feng Tie opened the parchment book with trembling hands, and what came into his eyes was a poignant love story. The owner of the story, Abigail's teacher, named the story "Flying".
fly; small fish;
1
The place we met was not romantic, it was just a noisy night market. The vendors of barbecued squid and fried tofu were shouting at the top of their lungs, and the hand-to-hand contact between shovels and iron pots was sharp and harsh; the air was mixed with the body odor of pedestrians and the smell of earth after the rain.
, the plastic smell of low-quality sandals. The foam lunch box on the garbage heap grinned evilly, reflecting the gloomy white light.
She stood there motionless, staring closely at a dirty stray cat hiding behind a garbage dump. The cat felt her gaze and stopped searching for food. It watched her bark and then lazily walk away.
Then she smiled like a poppy in full bloom. Director Jia ran over and grabbed her, laughing and reminiscing about old times. We walked over and got to know each other. I found out that she was Director Jia’s friend, studying at Shang University, she was twenty-three years old, and she was wearing a
The shorts I wore were modified on a whim from a skirt.
Of course Director Jia’s surname is Jia, and she is our tour guide. I like to call her this because it sounds like she is in a movie. I am only used to a life of illusion or self-deception.
My colleagues were all busy shopping to prepare for tomorrow's rafting on the Dongsheng River, but they were just perfunctory. I had no choice but to extend my left hand to announce my home, and she looked into my eyes with a smile and said, "I saw you feeding it."
I asked her what the reward would be.
The prize I got was a tissue because she knew I wanted to wipe the fishy smell off my right hand.
That's it, starting with a khaki cat.
At the dinner party, all the interactions became distant movements, and the noise seemed inaudible. I was surprised that the energy in her eyes was so huge, it could ignite every slender nerve in my body, they roared, danced, and pulled me
Falling into one doom after another, turning over reincarnation.
2
The incandescent light in the small hotel was so bright that I had to turn it off and only used the dim street lights outside the window for lighting.
She just lay down on the bed, her eyes closed tightly. Her long eyelashes almost covered her entire face under the shadow of the lamp. She didn't speak, nor did she tremble because of shyness. Even her breathing was not heavy.
.Her body is light yellow, smooth and stiff. When I kiss her, I can clearly feel her passion, the joy of fish in water, or fish in water, everything is like sleepiness, walking, breathing and death.
Naturally, here, the artificial twisting and shouting cannot be exchanged for a trace of love and compassion.
The bed was very old and occasionally made a slight squeaking sound. I stood up and stroked her long hair, which felt a little dry. My hands moved between her collarbone and toes as the watch ticked, passing over her.
My heart is like a soul that has lost its body. I no longer drift and return to touch. My fingertips inadvertently feel pain beyond measure.
;
3
There are many beautiful plants on the window panes, including violets, chrysanthemums, rhododendrons and white buds.
She curled up in my arms and smiled lightly, sometimes lowering her head lazily to rest. I pointed to a cherry tomato and told her about the Japanese blood jade tree. In an offshore village on Kyushu Island, once a young man dies,
Their bodies will grow many flesh-colored branches, covered with red agate-like fruits. People who suck the blood-red juice in the fruits will become extremely beautiful, but soon, they will all turn into blood-red trees one by one.
Yushu, like their ancestors, is rooted on the lonely beach, waiting for hungry passers-by.
I said, look, this one looks like a blood jade tree.
I lowered my head and touched a light brown mole in her neck with my lips. I heard her chuckle and let her lean happily against my shoulder and arm.
The moonlight streamed down, gathering on the leaves of the plants and dancing softly among the flowers, weaving and intertwining into a bridge between reality and illusion. In a trance, she was still struggling in the water, getting farther and farther away from my boat. I no longer had the strength.
, have no strength to crush even a dream.
4
When we climbed to the ninth floor, I felt that she seemed bored climbing on my back, so I told her stories one after another, from the story about Tang Monk in Journey to the West about encountering monsters while sweeping the tower to the White Lady under the Lei Feng Tower. I was very good at it.
I was telling stories, but she was still not interested. Maybe it was because she slept too much these days. I tickled her narrowly, and she put her mouth to my ear and murmured until I opened the top door of the tower.
The strong wind howled, and the black pine waves surged neatly to one side. We flew with fragile wings, and the scenery on the ground quickly magnified in our eyes. I hugged her tightly and said, look, we are finally free.
15 nights
After reading this story, Feng Tie understood how Abigail's master traveled through time.
Feng Tie murmured to himself with a dull expression: "You're awesome, boy. The woman you fell in love with drowned in the river where you were drifting, and you could still pretend to be fine and stay with her for one night, but look, you
In the end, I jumped down from the tower with her body on my back. To be honest, I admire your infatuation and courage, but you are still alive after all, right? You traveled here earlier than me, and traveled to this damn green
Hai Dalu. You are finally free after living in pain here for decades, but I still want to continue to live here and suffer all kinds of torture. However, I still want to bless you, my brother, and wish you a good journey."
Author's note:
Why doesn’t Hummer have any flowers or tickets? Not at all. Please tell me.