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In the autumn of Daoguang Guimao, Qiu Fu married into my family. After midnight, the maids all fell asleep. Qiu Fu wore a hanging bun and a red tulle. In the shadow of the candle, she and I were talking and laughing happily, telling the story of our childhood play together. When it comes to poetry, my tongue seems to be stiff and speechless, so I recall listening to Qiu Fu's early winter poems in the past, and there is a saying that "the snow eaves are heavy, and the wind deceives half the arm". I suspected it was her disguise at first, but now I believe it was written by Qiu Fu. At this time, mosquitoes are flying around in the boudoir, so we don't want to sleep when we are sleepy. The fragrance of jasmine in the washbasin is so strong that we can even smell it between pillows. Qiu Fu asked me to test my ability with her in one sentence. I also wanted to try Qiu Fu's poetic talent, so I readily agreed. I started with the first sentence: "Jade quilt is like a night mandarin duck", and Qiu Fu went on to say: "Hongyun weaves a building. Flowers greet the veil and the moon, "I continued. "It makes people feel that the pillow is filled with autumn. I want to continue, but I see the moon on the eaves outside the window dim, and the doorbell next door is slowly ringing. Meidochan outside urged Qiu Fu to get up and get dressed like a bird. So I stopped writing and got up.
I haven't been to the Bird's Nest Garden for a few days, and moss gradually grows between the shady porch steps. So, I took a breath and made two quatrains: "I felt a red dream, but I can't remember it." Yesterday, the hurricane was very strong. Do you remember being cold? ""There are no fingers on the mirror sill, and the room can't be opened for a long time. I want to remember each other, there is moss under the door. " At this time, Qiu Fu returned to her family for 35 days. Many of her younger brothers and sisters must be arguing and laughing happily together. Do you remember someone who still lingers under the night wind and misses her?
I taught Qiu Fu most of the piano skills. Since autumn, she stopped learning piano because of illness. After her illness, her fingering is a little rusty. I encouraged her to review and practice the piano with her in the "sunset red half floor". The string was tuned for a long time, but it was too high to make sound, and then the string broke at the place where it was tied. Qiu Fu put on a new rope, and suddenly there was smoke everywhere, and enough paper seemed to be burnt. Downstairs, it turned out that the little maid accidentally lit the curtain, and the little maid came to put out the fire. Only then did I know that sudden string breaking was a very close omen. Besides, five is the number of the main fire, which should be on the interruption of the strings. Is the piano warning me?
Qiu Fu mashed Rongkui leaves into juice in a metal basin, and then mixed some mica powder to drag and dye this poem, and dyed it silver green. Nothing can compare with her, which is meticulously crafted by outsiders. She once copied the Hundred Songs of the West Lake for me, but it was a pity that Guo took it away. Guo Wei wrote a book for me and said, "Poems don't need moss to write. I laugh at Solana's hand and copy it carefully." That's what it means. Qiu Fu was never good at calligraphy. Since she met two old gentlemen, Wei Zibo and Wu Yishan, she began to learn the style of calligraphy in Jin and Tang Dynasties. Unfortunately, after her illness, her eyesight was poor and she couldn't practice often. However, she writes a few words occasionally, which is still very charming and lovely.
Enduring the heat of summer night, Qiu Fu asked me to visit Lian Temple. Just going out, thunder rumbled and the wind blew hard, and the servant asked to drive back. I forced him to drive because I was in high spirits. Before we arrived at Nanping Mountain, the sky was gloomy and the mountains and rivers were hazy. After a while, I saw the lightning on the top of Duxiu Mountain as white as silk, as if it were only ten feet high from the sky, and the rain was pouring down. So we stopped under the big pine tree to hide from the rain. After the rain stopped, I walked on, only to feel the breeze rustling in the bamboo forest and the greenery on the mountain. Those two peaks are just like beauty after makeup, frowning and beautiful. Qiu Fu and I were on the way to enjoy it, and before we knew it, our sleeves were soaked. That month, it was a monk named Cha who gave a lecture in Lian Temple. He left us for dinner in his thatched cottage and gave us his painting of Bai Lianhua. Qiu Fu wrote a poem on it, saying, "If the fragrance is empty, why Zen?" In other words, we chatted over tea, and we had a very speculative talk with him. Then we went from Yangmeiwu to Shiwudong, where the rocks piled up into an arch. Just like several cases, Qiu Fu put the piano on a stone and played the piano music of Pingsha Goose. There are dusk clouds everywhere outside the cave, and the water in the stream is singing, as if in response to the sound of the piano. At this time, we are antagonistic and almost forget to live in the world. After a while, the residual heat dissipated, and the dark night came from all directions. We got back to the bus and walked for more than a mile. The moon has hung willow branches on the Su Causeway. On this day, the rain leaked all the way to the bed and the window was wet. Because the doors of several floors are locked, the servants can't go in and check. When we came back, the house was full of water, and it was almost a water town. Tell the little girl to hang in the air cage, and we won't go to bed until the fifth watch.
Qiu Fu likes painting peonies, but she writes carefully. Later, she studied peony with my old friend Yang Zhu, and peony came into my study with fragrance. At that time, my colleagues who lived in my thatched cottage and frequented us included Fu Wen Tao, Fei Ziheng, Yan Wenqiao and Jiao Zhongmei. They enjoyed the leaves and flowers together and worked tirelessly all day. Later, the money left, Yang died, Jiao Zhongmei, Yan Wenqiao and others returned to their hometown, and they were also tired of housework and abandoned the painting. The only fan I have here is the pen and ink painted by all your friends, and the spirit of that year is still preserved in the painting. Take it out in your spare time, with endless regrets for your guests and friends.
Peach blossoms were destroyed by wind and rain, and petals fell in the pond. Qiu Fu picked up the petals, wrote them into words, and wrote a poem called "Golden Gate": "In mid-spring, flowers are as short as spring. The night is full of red blowing and the spring wind is crazy. " Before the word "spring" was set, an easterly wind blew the petals all over the floor. Qiu Fu was very disappointed. I said, "This is really a crazy spring." The two men smiled at each other and gave up.
I used to have a green parrot named Cui Niang. I called it and it agreed. All the poems it recited were taught by the maid Hughes. Xiujuan got married, and Cuiniang often didn't eat and drink on time, and gradually became haggard. One day, when I got up and was washing, I suddenly heard someone whispering outside the curtain, which sounded like Xiujuan. I was surprised. When I went out, it was "Cui Niang". Xiujuan has been gone for several months. If Cui Niang knows, she will miss the person who taught her to recite poems, right?
Qiu Fu often said to me, "A hundred years of life is half sleep, half sadness, and half childhood and old age. The rest will be eleven or twelve years. Besides, we who are frail and sick may not be able to enjoy a centenary. Geng Lancheng said that the happy time in January is only four or five days. I think it is also a kind of self-forgiveness. "These words are correct.
I have never walked more than a hundred miles in my life. In the twenty-fourth year of Daoguang, he went to Cao Ejiang to handle affairs. Qiu Fu was cold. I was going to change the travel date, but the luggage has been sent out in advance, and there is no one to wait in the season. When crossing the Qiantang River at night, there was a hurricane, and it seemed that all the peaks across the other side hung their heads and eyebrows, standing opposite each other and unhappy. I think of Wang Bo, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, who wrote in "Preface to Tengyi Pavilion": "The sky is vast and the universe is infinite; When you are happy and sad, you can feel the surplus and shortage. " I just feel that this body is between heaven and earth and I don't know where to put it. The bright galaxy is hanging in the horizon, and the residual lights on the shore are flashing. It's already even after waking up. I want to call someone to add clothes to me, but my tent hangs quietly and no one around me promises me. I opened my eyes and realized that I was still sleeping in the cabin.
The autumn moon is very good. Qiu Fu asked Meidochan to take the piano to swim among the lotus flowers in Ming Sheng Lake. I was returning from Xixi. When I got home, Qiu Fu was outside the door, so I followed Guapi's instructions to follow her. We met under the second bridge in Su Causeway. On the boat, Qiu Fu played the piano piece Autumn Hatred by Han Palace. I dressed her and listened to her play the piano. At this time, the surrounding mountains are shrouded in smoke, the stars and the moon are reflected in the water, and the piano is contending. I don't know whether it's the wind or the ring. The piano hasn't stopped yet, and our general manager is approaching the south bank of Yiyuan Garden. Knock on the door of Baiyun Temple after class. The nuns in Baiyun Temple are old acquaintances. She asked us to sit down and went to the pool to pick fresh lotus seeds to make lotus seed soup for us. Lotus seed soup is fragrant and mellow enough to make people feel deeply. If compared with the fishy smell in the world, it is a world of difference. When we returned to the ship, we landed at Duanjiaqiao. After landing, we spread a bamboo mat on the ground and sat and talked for a long time. Hearing the noise in the city, we feel like flies buzzing in our ears, which is very boring. The stone pillar on the bridge, where I wrote my poem last year, has been eroded by mussels recently, and the handwriting is out of sight. Want to rewrite, but nowhere to write. At this time, the stars are gradually thinning, and the lake is suffused with a layer of white gas. Listening to the drums of Chengtou, we knocked four times, so we went home with the piano.
Yu Lian Village came to Hangzhou to play and gave me a jar of Huishan spring water. It happened that the monks in Mozhen went to Tianmu Mountain in western Zhejiang to preach and also sent me Tougang tea. I scoop it with a bamboo tube, cook it on the fire, and drink it in my mouth, which is no less than drinking the dew of Tathagata. My pores are smooth and moist, so I don't have to wait until I drink seven bowls of tea from Lu Tong. Yulian village lived in my thatched cottage for more than ten days. We lit candles at night and had a very speculative conversation. Unfortunately, he left his job to make a living before we finished talking. The two of us have looked at each other like trees and clouds for three years. I often recall his poems on martial arts, and the evaluation is extremely appropriate. It's the first time that monk Jue 'a has seen and heard. Juea was a scholar before becoming a monk. After ten years of practice, he got the correct vision. Where he lives, more than 300 plum trees have been planted. When the plum blossoms are in full bloom, he meditates under the plum trees. After meditation, he occasionally writes poems. There is a cloud in Huai Huai Shi: "I have never read the book of human bran rice since I met Leng Yan." At that time, the old man in Jianzhai said "Hua Yan Jing": "The meaning of the article, like a bucket of water, is upside down." It's not just that I don't know the Huayan Sutra, I haven't read it at all. Compared with monk Jue 'a, is there more "difference between getting on and off the bed"? It's a pity that I haven't read the whole poem "Poetry of Love". It's really like reading only half a poem. I heard that Yu Lian Village recently lived in Piling, Jiangsu. When I am free, I should write a letter to greet him.
At night, I heard the sound of wind and rain, and there was coolness between my pillows. Qiu Fu just took off her evening makeup. I'm sitting next to the book case, and I'm not writing Pictures of Flowers. I heard the wind outside the window and blew the yellow leaves under the window. Qiu Fu said to the mirror, "Yesterday was better than today, and this year is older than last year." I said disappointedly, "Life is less than a hundred years, so why shed tears for others?" So I won't write it. Late at night, Qiu Fu wants to drink water. The water was warm and there was no fire in the kitchen. She wants to be called Meidochan. They all fell asleep in the house and were called by the dream god for a long time. I put a lamp on the kitchen table and heated a bowl of lotus seed soup for Qiu Fu to drink. Qiu Fu has been suffering from lung disease for ten years. She always coughs in late autumn. She must have a high pillow to sleep. This year, she is a little stronger. She often sits opposite me with a bun and stays up late into the night. Probably the sleep diet has had an effect after conditioning? But it's only autumn now, and I don't know what it will be like in August and September.
I made a dress full of plum blossoms for Qiu Fu. She looks like a green calyx fairy in it. Every late spring, she wears railings on her sleeves and butterflies on her temples, and she still vividly knows that spring has passed.
Sweeping the floor and burning incense is a metaphor for the true meaning of Buddhism. But if you can become a Buddha by doing this, then the teachers in the temple are already full of bliss. Qiu Fu is very clean, and there is a little dust on the ground. She always has to clean herself. I gave her a pair of Wang Qiyun's handkerchiefs and said, "You sweep the floor every day, and the floor is getting dirty. If you want the floor clean, leave the broom handle. " Qiu Fu finally can't understand. Qiu Fu's eloquence is ten times better than mine. She insists on doing this because of habit.
I have lived in the West Lake for ten years, and adults give me dozens of taels of silver every month to support my daily use. Because of my extravagance, I often fall into poverty. Furs in Xia Dong are always pawned and redeemed in two seasons, and boxes are always empty all year round. I once wrote a poem to Qiu Fu, saying, "I felt sorry for Zhang Lu when I was cold. I have no reason to thank you again. As long as I am interested in searching for Qing, I am still shameless (missing words). " Everything is true.
In the winter of 2008, the county magistrate of Yixian wanted to visit the northernmost part of the country. I gave him a farewell dinner at the thatched cottage, and more than twenty people attended the banquet. After drinking, Li played the piano; Wu writes big characters; The four walls are painted with Wu Yishan, Yang and Qian respectively; Others or cows are limited to poetry or talk about tea. Only a dozen people such as Shi, Tian and Jia Binmei squatted on the ground to gamble, drank loudly and drank dozens of cups. Tonight, the wind is clear and the moon is clear. I want to keep all of you for one night. After the goat lamp was lit, I washed the wine lamp and prepared to drink it again. Who knows that I didn't drink a few rounds, but I didn't serve wine. I asked Qiu Fu in surprise. She said: "All the bottles and cans of wine have been drunk, and there are only dozens of hanging money left on the bedside. I took off my Hosta for wine. The restaurant doesn't know if it's true or not. Now I'll take it to the pawnshop and sell it. I haven't come back yet because the pawnshop is far from downtown. To this end, I recited Yuan Zhen's poem "I coaxed your gold hairpin to buy wine", and they were relatively disappointed. On this day, I collected dozens of poems and drank eight or nine jars of wine. This is the most prosperous time in recent years. From then on, our friends were far apart, like a cloud like duckweed, and Qiu Fu and I were bound by a common firm, so we couldn't travel often.
Qiu Fu was not good at writing lyrics in the past. She recalled that there was a sentence in "Bodhisattva Man" that she had written at the beginning: "Iron is intestines, and now iron intestines hurt." The idea is novel, and there is no mechanical problem. Later, when I traveled to Yin Shan, Qiu Fu gave me a Song of the Cave Fairy, which was deep and steady in style and flawless. I began to be surprised at her rapid progress. After I went back, I looked at her latest work, which was actually very good. I just know, three days later, Shibei should sit up and take notice, and Qiu Fu is no longer the naive Amon in the past. In the past, the fairy of Yaohua in history once fell in the nest garden, saying it was the back of the fairy. I observed her eloquence and seemed to believe it. In addition, she has been fasting for 20 years, and the Shurangama Sutra and the Fire Eye Sutra have already recited thousands of volumes, so she will certainly gain wisdom. She can understand a gesture and a half sentence at a glance, not to mention just words. Someone once said, "It's too late to read again in this life." I believe this sentence of Qiu Fu.
Twenty miles west of Qin Ting, there is a place called Xixi, where my Huaimei Manor is located. Walking west along the stream, there are many reeds on the water. Coupled with the autumn wind, reeds fly all over the beach like snowflakes, and the water waves ripple up and down. In the depths of Luhuadang, there are several exquisite Buddhist temples dedicated to the Buddha, named "Yunzhangge". Yunzhangge is more than a mile away from Zhuangzi, separated by a winding stream, and it can't be reached without a boat. At that time, a monk lived in Huawu Xinzhai. It is said that he has strict precepts and can predict the future. In the second year of late autumn, I took Qiu Fu to visit him and asked him about the true meaning of Zen. Just like a blind and deaf person, his nose is facing the sky, which makes people want to laugh. There was a first snowfall at that time, and it just cleared up. Qiu Fu came out of the temple and stood under the hall. Like a blooming plum, she smiled like a dream. Qiu Fu invited me to visit Ai 'an Temple again, so she boarded the Second School with her, watched Mrs. Wang Duan's Peifang, calligraphy and seal cutting, sat by the stream, and looked for roasted back fish and sliced snails, all of which were places of interest left by Jigong. The next day, we visited the turret, Qiuxue and other ancient temples. The monks in the temple entertained us with pine tea and asked us to write an inscription on Giorgia's painting. When we went back by boat, the sun had already set, and the late clock was urging us to go back for dinner. There was a sudden chill in the autumn wind. Qiu Fu is wearing a thin cotton-padded coat and seems to be very cold. I took off my vest and put it on her. At midnight, I arrived in the village and the dog barked to meet me. I looked back at the fishing fire across the stream, and the scene at that time was exactly the same as that in Meng Haoran's poem, when Lu Men came home late. After returning home, Qiu Fu insisted that I write travel notes, so I lit a lamp with her, and before I knew it, it was early in the morning.