Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
In the Republic of China, which is not far from us, the wind is surging and the smoke is filled. Pillow a memory, fat spring flowers, thin autumn moon sigh, ask for wine, how many sighs, lazy writing. Spreading a ray of homesickness, tracing the lost sky, looking at the shadow of idle clouds and pools, and shining flowers at the water's edge reflect the unique charm of the Republic of China. Cheongsam is leisurely, April day on earth, and the style is still the same. The ice-cold gorgeous and stunning love on the beach has been washed on the yellow scroll and title page with the vast dust. She has nearly a hundred years of humble life and gorgeous smoothness, and more is a sad, talented world and a beautiful and dazzling life.
The words don't rhyme, rhyme and are even, but the narrow fate makes this legendary woman fall overseas, and her loneliness is over. It has become the desolation of the beach and even the whole Wen Yuan in emerald color, which makes the writing look like a gorgeous cheongsam, full of lice and addicted to the happiness of biting.
I read many talented women's life legends, lamented their talents, admired their national beauty and fragrance, and even missed their different life fragments. Since ancient times, beauty has been unlucky, and disasters have been more beautiful since ancient times. These unprovoked slanders have made talented women bear a heavy sky, and the shackles of Confucianism and Taoism have filled countless books with boudoir words of spring resentment, leaving many love and hate feelings out of the world of mortals. Those hypocritical neo-Confucianists wrote a dirty sky in Wen Yuan with invisible filth, and all the beautiful buds were drowned for no reason.
After all, the green hills are full of water, covered in mud and enchanting, and violets are graceful in the stormy autumn. I have always believed that words are not ancient legends, true feelings are eternal songs, and legends are unique cold plums in the cold winter months, with a thin shadow and a faint fragrance alone.
Zhang Ying, an obscure name, was inadvertently rewritten as Zhang Ailing by her mother at the age of ten. This change has rewritten the fate of her life and the legend of her century. Noble birth, childhood without maternal love, tenacious transnational she is in her father's smoked curly hair every day. A family without temperature, a childhood without nostalgia, only the warmth given by menstruation is the most beautiful touch of the sky in her young world.
Over the years, it is worth remembering that in the old days, the unconnected fragments were broken, the fragmented thoughts, the aristocratic temperament entangled in the body, and the white clouds and pale dogs became irreparable vicissitudes. Whose sorrow, whose sorrow and joy, whose sorrow, can't answer the answer, give it to bloom's brilliance, give it to the full moon, flowers fall all over the ground, and years flow through Qian Shan. Childhood scenes, I can't bear to recall, but always jump in front of you, making you chew that bitter memory hard.
/kloc-published a short story at the age of 0/2, which made the words bloom gracefully at the end of the pen, revealing the exquisiteness and uninhibited youth, and boasted with Leng Yan with unknown domineering, and talent and intelligence coexisted. Some people like to listen to her, but few people understand. Some people understand her silence, but few people understand its inside and outside. She didn't deliberately look for loneliness beyond words, but loneliness always invaded her young persistence.
The environment changes people, the wind and smoke will reverse, and the uncoordinated family has no bright colors, which makes her words coated with a thick layer of old green, reading the words, savoring the desolation, sensing the faint sadness and understanding a vicissitudes in the world of mortals. Walking, growing, running and secular, waking up, writing, talent is deep, innocence is gone. Watching, 3,000 strains of moss dyed white, listening, one by one disappeared from her world.
23-year-old, flower-like years, emerald-like years, is the most charming and charming time in a woman's life. This year, she wrote a novel "Agarwood Chips", which began with:' Please find out the moldy and colorful copper incense burner handed down from family, light a batch of agarwood chips, and listen to me tell a story about Hong Kong before the war. Your batch of agarwood chips is finished, and so is my story. "The ingenious opening and homely ramble make readers feel the haunting Hong Kong story in the hazy artistic conception and misty smoke. Because of truth, so moved, because of understanding, so compassionate.
Her words touched the soul of that era, transcended the hearts of many lonely people, redeemed the spirit of hunger and thirst with words, and cured the lack of material with will. There is no doubt that she has become a real absolute beauty on the beach, a bright star in the vast galaxy, shining proudly and alone at the peak of the literary world, which makes people feel vague. Su Qing, Pan and Guan Lu, who are known as the four talented women in the literary world, are all the rage in Shanghai, jumping with joy in the Wenhua Garden.
Married a red rose, over time, the red one turned into mosquito blood on the wall, and the white one was still' the bright line at the foot of my bed'; When you marry a white rose, the white rose is the rice residue on your clothes, and the red rose is the Zhu Shazhi in your heart. "What is integrated into the comfortable words is a kind of insight; There is a great wisdom and tolerance in teasing humor. See through the world of mortals, but have no intention of trapping, calm and calm, Zen interpretation. If life is just like the first time, why is it sad to draw a fan in the autumn wind? It's just a beautiful expectation written by the poet. Few things in this world are really as amazing as the first time.
After all, liking the new and hating the old is always a few percentage points more than liking the old and hating the new. If you can like the new and hate the old, you are a man with a conscience. How can I meet my love in the doors and windows that have been left unlocked like Piaoping? Did she pave the way on purpose or burn incense to pray?
A confidant is the one who can make you forget at a glance; A confidant is someone whose inner feelings can be seen through at a glance. Therefore, the most beautiful encounter occurred in a quiet time when Hu Lancheng went to the countryside for recreation. This encounter really relegated her to the dust, and a humble flower blossomed in the dust, but how many people shouted for her? This meeting changed her life. This volume of love history is really heavy and good.
At the turn of summer and autumn, she became the most beautiful bride in the world. There is no ceremony, only a marriage certificate: Hu Lancheng and Zhang Ailing signed a lifelong engagement, wishing to make the years quiet and stable in this world. A stunning beauty is charming. Although she is a prostitute, she has entered the eyes of a talented woman, and an untimely dust fate has drawn a big circle. I really hope that she will spend a full moon and expect her to bloom perfectly. However, the person she met was not the one who accompanied her to see the flowing water and led her hand through the boundless Qian Shan. If she knew the ending, she would miss her shoulder and she would lose a sad part of her long years.
His beauty, his exposed husband and wife went to the ends of the earth, always unbearable love blasphemy, let her suddenly turn around in boundless time, leaving the mountains and rivers with a desolate back. Destined meeting, unexpected ending, romantic opening, incomplete parting. Life and death are rich, the clouds are rolling and the water is flowing. Who can I talk to? Mood, at this moment, turned into a bleak look back, a kind of love, and so disappeared. From now on, you have your golden horse, and I have my quiet years. It's a long way to go, Xiu Yuan Xi, standing in the clouds, saying take care, saying goodbye, saying goodbye again, never again.
Fate always comes casually. After a gorgeous turn, Zhang Ailing has many admirers, but her heart is closed and she will not kneel for a lonely and boring Buddha's foot.
A director named Sang Arc gave her a touch of care. She knows that he won't be his own person, but the words are the old man, and the novel leads the red line, which makes him feel the warmth and light of friendship in the haze of loneliness and worry. Come gently, walk gently, like waves in the blue waves, like clouds in the blue sky, and forget about it in Shanghai. This episode, not magnificent, did not take a whole month, but passed gently in her world.
Disappointed, she wrote a heartbreaking quatrain in Autumn Water:' You won't. I thought that if I had to leave you, I wouldn't commit suicide, and I wouldn't love anyone else. I would just fade away. "The love of the whole city makes people want to distinguish it at this time, and it ends with the surging river. Look, I don't know why. . It turns out that refusing love is so absolute.
In the third year of my life, I am 36 years old. I don't know if it is because of loneliness or because I want to embrace warmth. The writer Laiya became the scenery when she was 30 years old. He washed away her pigmented heart and walked hand in hand to the marriage hall. Leave home, live alone, and let her hold hands with foreign writers. I didn't forgive this injury. How many times do I have to write it off on the world of mortals? Walking through mountains and rivers, I always thought that happiness would be within reach overnight. Life is not Chun Xue, let alone Tang poetry and Song poetry. The wind and frost wet the quiet life in ordinary years.
It was she who aroused his passion with her youth, and she supported her increasingly thin body with lonely words. Fireworks years, can not stand careful taste and scrutiny, looking back on the past, leaving only unpredictable pay in life. Finally, it's not worth waiting for her to die. Moving again and again, carefully again and again, always afraid of being disturbed by the world, trying to hide in the bellows, but this flower picker of the Republic of China wearing cheongsam is always disturbed, always tortured by skin diseases, always chased by mosquitoes and lice, and is stable in this world, which seems to have never happened in her world.
At the age of 57, that is, 1977, A Dream of Red Mansions, written with ten years of painstaking efforts, was officially published in Taipei. Ten years of painstaking efforts, once out of the dust, shake off the past, euphemistic mood. Accompanied by a lonely lamp, family members are not in sight, and friends are not in sight. Isolation reminds us of her loneliness and loneliness. What kind of woman is this? She lights up the beach and never goes out, so there will be all kinds of people floating in front of the door.
There is no need to go deep into the society, and all the people who negotiate with her are propaganda. Perhaps it stems from the hustle and bustle of youth and yearns for inner peace. We can't walk into her inner world, and it's not hard to see from her words that living is really an embarrassment for her.
In any case, she lived to 1995 by her own will. 75 years old, for her, is really a breakpoint in the long river of history. Lively appearance, silent death, in my lonely hut, standing upright on the floor separated by yin and yang. Born a few days after Mid-Autumn Festival, died a few days before Mid-Autumn Festival. She and the full moon that shines all over the world have forged a lifelong love affair, and when she cuts off the coolness of autumn, she is so concerned. Her soul returned to her long-lost hometown with the surging water. She failed once and will never forget it.
I stopped thinking and ended my melancholy. I hid my thoughts, and my tears flooded my desk. For her, for this rare talented woman, I punished my mistake with a faint promise, but it was too sad, which made my words fluctuate with emotions. The inner humidity is surging with a feeling of love. I really want to suffer for her and buy all the sadness for her over the years.
I seem to see her wearing a gorgeous cheongsam, passing through the misty rain of the Republic of China, crossing the south of the Yangtze River, and passing through the deep alleys of old Shanghai. She came to me with a smile and told me that at this time, the moonlight was clear and the fragrance of Sophora japonica was rich, and the past would eventually become a memory, and the present was the most wonderful. I see, in the hunting wind, men's rivers and lakes are golden horses, and women's rivers and lakes are tender as water. Since ancient times, heroes have been out of the battlefield, and beauty naturally laments that heartbroken people are in the end of the world.
When I was in bloom, it was not far from landing. Love deeply, without resentment from time to time. This is true for talented women, especially for you and me. . . . . .