Author: Zhang Xiaofeng
He failed the list! 1200 years ago. However, the list is big and long, but there is no his name. Ah! Unexpectedly, his name "Zhang Ji" is not enough.
The names of those who passed the exam are all written on the list, which is known all over the world. Strangely, in his feeling, it is well known that he failed in the exam. This incident made him feel ashamed and depressed.
Leave Beijing! After paying the price, he set foot on the boat. This is not the expected plot. There might have been an affair of arranging flowers and wandering the streets, and there was the glory of returning home in clothes. However, after ten years of cold window, although he was a thorn in his side, he didn't have a corner seat at Qionglin banquet.
The ship is sailing like the wind.
Jiang Feng is like fire, holding a cold flame on the shore. This evening, the ship arrived in Suzhou. However, this beautiful ancient city is just another place that touches Zhang's sad feelings.
If there is anything to do during the day, for a scholar, it is reading! What about at night? You should go to bed at night to keep your mental state and watch it the next day. However, tonight is a sad night. Tonight, in a foreign land, by the river, in the season of cold autumn and high geese, let a down-and-out scholar indulge his sadness. The river can hold the tears of all unfortunate people indefinitely.
On such a night, I sat cruelly, listening to the sound of my heart being chewed by something, watching my life like a remnant lamp in a strong wind, all my strength was spent on resistance, and I ran out of oil and food, and the slight fire could be extinguished at all times. However, what is hateful is that it has never been gorgeous and brilliant in its life!
Jiangshan slept, the boat slept, the boatman slept, and the people on the shore slept. Only he, Zhang Ji, is awake. The deeper the night, the more awake he is, like a dead tree and fallen leaves, like an empty nest where Liang has gone.
At first, it was sleep that rejected him. Let nature take its course, haven't you been rejected everywhere in your life? ) Then, he got angry. Well, if you don't sleep, you won't sleep If you wake up all night, you will simply take a thorough look at yourself. Why not?
The moon is slanting to the west, looking listless. There are birds singing, hoarse, crow's, and the moon is even dimmer because of its frequent chirping. On the river bank, I think it's frost grass. In the night sky, the house is as clear as frost and the grain is cold.
In the corner of his beard and forehead, he felt as if he was getting cold, and the gloomy and hostile chill was waiting for the frost flowers condensed in early autumn to decorate his miserable young face.
Fishing in twos and threes on the river. What are they doing? Fishing, right, or shrimp? Do they also cast nets? Times are hard! Even a handsome fisherman can't help jumping into the storm, can he?
However, hard work is also a kind of happiness! Tonight, the moon is bright, the frost is cool, the people at ease are sleeping, and the people at work go to work. Only I, Zhang Ji, don't accept anything. I have neither the right to work nor the right to sleep. ...
The bell rang, the strange late-night bell of Hanshan Temple. Generally, drums and morning bells are ringing in temples, and Hanshan Temple knocks "midnight bell" to warn the world. The bell is near the water. For others, the sound is just the vague background music in their sleep. However, in him, one by one hit the heart, right in the middle. The bell is beautiful, but does it hurt?
As he didn't sleep, he pushed the pillow up and wrote the words "a night-mooring near maple bridge" in the dark. Then, just copy the remaining 28 words. I say "copy" because those 28 words are like black words on the white wall in his heart:
Frosty night,
Jiang Feng sleeps in the fire.
Hanshan Temple outside Gusu,
The midnight bell arrived at the passenger ship.
Thank God, if there were no last Zhang Ji, there would be a good poem missing in the history of poetry, and no one would speak for us in a certain mood.
1200 years later, who is the champion on that long list (that is, the gold list that Zhang Ji can't squeeze into)? Ha! Who cares who he is? The name that is really remembered is "Zhang Ji, a laggard". Will anyone remember the grand parade of the champion in red? Don't! We only remember the frustrated man on the autumn night passenger ship and his immortal insomnia.