Tian Ling entered a different world. He was born in the Chang Dynasty, and is the family member of Ling Zhencheng, who is in power in the ruling and opposition. His father has three sons. The eldest son is a powerful marshal. The second son, Feng Ling, is a very rich businessman, and Tian Ling is the youngest son in the family. When he was born, the sky was full of stars, dark clouds and thunder, but Oda Ling seemed to be.
Days in Rome is Moyan Xia's first full-length love novel, which describes the love between a cynical playboy and several women.
Traceless youth, obsessed with who will miss the moment of prosperity and loneliness. The world has suffered for thousands of years. For love, for love, for hate. Love is deeply rooted, love and hate are entangled, resentment is entangled, roots are wrong, and life is wrong. Only by forgetting and losing that sad memory can we be different from ordinary people.
A word "love" touched my heart, and tears swept over my eyes again and again, but I didn't want to wipe away my wet eyes. The rain had passed without a trace. what is love ?
The world is like a dream, and there are various reasons and reasons between its origin and extinction. Rome Hurts the City is Moyan Xia's second full-length urban romance novel.
Time flies, those old photos left in the old drawer have faded and become souvenirs. I can't miss the circuitous distance between brothers and sisters. A Rome is a memorial to the injured capital, the people I love and the people who love me.
A sea of love, a heartbreaking city, I don't want to miss it, but I feel a lot of sadness. I have a lot of thoughts, flowers bloom and flowers fall, and the tide rises and falls. Do you not understand love or love too much? Time flies, time is like a dream, and it is another reincarnation in a blink of an eye. In the afterlife, can you and I remember each other?
Past lives, I would like to turn into a grain of dust to find the unfinished ending, cross the Gobi, cross the shoal, look to the other side and look for the unfinished. The Key to the Soul is a pure literary work by Moyan Xia.
Making a cup of tea is called "literature". Sitting alone in the quiet night, making a cup of tea and savoring my oil lamp years. A few youthful lights, a few dreams, lush years, glass-like imagination, how much soil has been deposited under your feet, and how many marks have been left in your heart. Writing is a journey that begins and ends. With countless touches and tears, after several intersections, the dream stays in the vortex of neon lights forever. The feelings, feelings and touches of the soul are always real and cannot be ignored.
Write with your heart: the touch of the heart is the most mysterious secret bell in ancient times, and the swaying melody is an unguarded poison arrow. Put your feelings into words, feel with your heart, words need to be written, and your heart needs to be experienced. Use the power of life to sprinkle an ink called true ink.
Turn love into words: love, an unspeakable word, everyone has love. Your love may be clear, light or deep, but it is all a sign of love. It is a kind of bright red blood and a wonderful tune. Inject words and let the words of life jump in every cycle.
The words jumping at the fingertips need a kind of memory: the youth flowing away, across the fingertips, through the heart, recording everything, recalling the lush years, remembering, recording and writing, I am complacent, know how to cherish, get used to remembering, and keep recording.
This cup of tea in literature: fine taste, little smile, I dry the slightly moist corners of my mouth, slightly bitter and salty, but sweet in my throat. I can travel freely in an infinitely broad field of literature, with subtle touches, frequent heartbeats, several records, a little beauty, words, literature, records and feelings.
Excalibur in the grave
Excalibur in the Tomb is a novel by Moyan Xia.
I have been in Iceberg Hanchuan for thousands of years, waiting for the flowers to bloom for a season, just to meet each other in this life. Seeing you, I danced a flute song on the frost in Leng Yue in my last life. A charming fencing filled the sky with snowflakes. Time flies, and it is ten thousand years in a flash. The night tonight is thin and cold. The neon of the city flows everywhere, and the west window is shaded by candlelight, which is quiet. On the gloomy sky, a crescent moon is quietly hanging above the sky, swaying gently on the dead branches of the phoenix tree in the middle of winter, looking for withered and broken dreams, as if I had waited silently in the ancient tomb for thousands of years. The dim moonlight and the shadow of chrysanthemum shed mottled water and scattered shadows, adding a desolation and drunkenness to tonight's night.
The sound of the piano is clear. In the ancient tomb, a brave young man held a scabbard and waved his thoughts full of paper; Beyond the clouds and water, a woman bounced up gently and wanted to talk to Yao Qin. Once in a thousand years, it is as soft as water. If we met on Naihe Bridge in a previous life, should we drink this bitter Mengpo soup in this life? Wading is a snow dance all over the sky Flowers bloom and fall, and tears flow down her face. Who is in the south, who is in the north, who sang the knife wound in the previous life, and who arranged the meeting in this life. Quietly flowing, thoughts and water together. The crescent moon is the waning moon of Yang Liuan, shining on the Millennium tomb; The treetops are willow branches thousands of miles away, touching and undulating; That sword, Cheng Liang dazzling, engraved with the invitation of past lives; The wound of that sword, with a faint pharynx, is the reincarnation of this life. Pull out the scabbard and cut my throat sharply; Put out the light and breathe quietly. The tomb is faint and affectionate. Wave and capitalize a word of love in the rhyme; Sing, sing the distant sadness. Can't breathe. My white skirt dragged the floor, shaking out all the details in the ancient tomb. That night was dark, that night was windy, that night was only a sword, that night was only a song.
A besieged world
The World in a Besieged City is a novella of Moyan Xia's urban love novel.
The whole world wants to build villas and gardens in the besieged city. There are breezes and willows, and there are small bridges and flowing water. How much lush love, rose-like marriage, has become a barren desert. This can be answered by a famous saying: "It's easier to fight the mountains than to defend them." The world is caught between encirclement and breakthrough.
Marriage has experienced the oppression of feudal ethics for thousands of years. From parents' arrangement to new freedom of love, marriage has undergone essential changes. "I want to be a wing bird in heaven and grow together on the earth, two branches on a tree." "I hope people can live a long life" and "All shall be well, jack shall have Jill" ... These are ancient young people's yearning for pure love and their pursuit of independent marriage.
Two of a kind and butterfly lovers love each other and kill each other. I hope my father can't compare with Ma Jia's power and wealth. He hit Yuanyang and tore a pair of lovers in half alive. In the face of patriarchy, Yingtai can't resist his father's orders even if he is full of poems, and he can't do anything even if he vows eternal love with Shanbo. There is no love in her love and no decision in her marriage. Ironically, the parents decide the life-long fate of the newlyweds with only one word from the matchmaker. From this perspective, the so-called family background is nothing more than property. Liang Zhu can't meet each other when he is alive, and even when he dies, he will become a butterfly with two wings. Two young couples proved the passion and purity of love with their own lives. Despise power and money; Proved that there is no copper smell in pure love. Yingtai abandoned the rich family property, took love as the priority and pursued poor mountain people. However, both children were weak, and they became victims of the ethical code of that era, and realized their pursuit at the cost of their lives. They regard love as the highest point of love, become a model for future generations, and are praised by the world. Liang Zhu's deeds have become a classic of love and a beautiful legend. The world inside the besieged city and the disturbance outside the besieged city, have you seen the truth under this glitz and wondered what you really need? When we are tempted by material things, will we think of all this? Happiness without giving is a beautiful bubble, and life without love is a dead sea.
May the world live a happy life in the besieged city and benefit future generations, just like in Xanadu.
Moyan Xia's Poems is a collection of 280 modern poems that Moyan Xia has not published on the Internet.
The wind has passed the flower season, and the rain has soaked every inch of the skin. Outside the window, it is already flourishing, and there are still a few cicadas on the buttonwood tree, singing heartily there. It suddenly occurred to me that a thousand years ago, you were plain, and a flower under the tree fell on your shoulder. I carefully picked the flowers for you and held them tightly in my hand. A butterfly in the distance, riding the breeze of past lives, reveals its charming face, and beautiful clouds fall from the branches, which I can't hold in my hand. In the boundless twilight, a flowing and melancholy Zheng song is played. There are white clouds floating in the sky, gently taking away all the troubles. I swam by the water and worshipped the purple dust you returned. In previous lives, I have been waiting for your arrival. For a long time, I have been looking for traces of nothingness in my previous life in my dreams. You are the same as you were in a previous life, with a bright smile and warm eyes. In Shui Yunjian, on a clear night, I wrote intoxicating poems for you, and you rolled up silky long hair for me.
Excerpts from poems:
Through the window lattice, I saw the withered flowers on the windowsill/listened to the gentle conversation of the distant sea breeze/heard the silence of the night/I know/I walked through the fragrance of flowers this season again/when I fell asleep, I smiled at Ryutsuki/I was staggered by seasons, and the memories of the years/everything turned into traces of the years. The autumn rain is long, with a little shyness/helplessness, I am drunk. I just need to pick up loneliness/carve my love for you between the lines/the bright stars at the end of the Milky Way/narrow the distance between you and me/dance gently with my sleeves, look up at the sky/dust, watch a big swallow fly south/spread its wings in the moonlight/I/just watch you fly under the stars and moons/stare at you quietly from the mountains and rivers/you are far away in Na Pianhai/I once imagined sitting next to you with a thousand ripples/your shadow/. A little ink/tonight, screw you into the center of my words/past lives/I walked back to this life from past lives/I once fantasized that I was a flying butterfly/past lives/years have been missed by me/this life, you are my watercolor/who whispers in the night? /After many years, do you suddenly look back? /The dust of the past is like water. If we meet,/please allow me to wait for you for a thousand years ... Pengshan is full of flowers and bamboos, and cranes and deer chase each other. Walking in the dark in rags, I am ashamed of the fairy moths in the purple house. On this trip to Pengshan Jade Bird, I was diligent in exploring smoke waves and lamented that this scene was inhuman. I remember my lovesickness in the past. A sad song, the blue waves rise and the west wind blows. Leng Yue dances the sword, and the mandarin ducks return in pairs. Lin Qiong, the Taoist priest, sought immortality, painted ink, enjoyed Tianshan Mountain, weeping willows and drunk with purple flowers. The sun sets, the red skirt is dyed, the world of mortals is hard to find, and the twilight is cold. The world is always uneven. The sword fell to the world, and
Exquisite on the Moon
With the moonlight swaying in front of the window, pear blossoms are gone everywhere, and the young and frivolous stars chase the clouds flowing around Lanxin, gradually adding coolness to the late autumn. Sighing bleak, I can't think about dreaming of Jiangnan, complaining about tenderness, sketching the mottled leaves of yesterday's dreams with my fingertips, climbing on the windowsill when the moonlight is swaying, and your faint fragrance is exuded in the air. Looking at your poems through the screen window, a few warmth falls in my heart. I don't regret the moonlight shining in the fleeting time and the leaves dancing lightly. I am eager for compensation. Open the poem of remembrance, the ink is broken, the kite is a piece of paper, and my heart is condensed under the words, and my heart is indifferent to yesterday's wind and frost. Tune the pipa with Sanskrit sandalwood, and leave your heart in an eternal gentle lotus pond. You quietly buried in the dreamy Jiangnan poetry, telling tenderness. Sketch yesterday's dreamy mottled leaves with your fingertips. Swaying, the moonlight climbed on the windowsill, and your faint fragrance was in the air. Look at your poem through the screen window. A few rays of warmth fall on your heart. I don't regret the moonlight shining in the fleeting time and the leaves dancing lightly. I am willing to pay for opening the ink of reminiscence poems. Broken paper kites, soft thoughts are condensed under the words, and the heart is indifferent to yesterday. Looking at your lines through the screen window, a few warmth falls in my heart. I don't regret it. In the fleeting time, the moonlight spread and the leaves danced lightly. I have a long-cherished wish to open the ink fragrance of reminiscence poems and break the thread. Soft-hearted paper kites are condensed under the words, and my heart is indifferent. Yesterday, the wind and frost tuned the piano, Sanskrit sandalwood left my heart. The lotus pond blooms, and the tenderness is eternal. You buried it quietly.
song of love
I dance sword, feeling like gossamer. Your flute is continuous, your sleeves are flying, your clothes are dancing lightly, and you are full of love and gentleness. In my past life, I was dressed in colorful clothes and lived a drunken life. As beautiful as before, the past life was silent, with flowers and butterflies, and the leaves of the ancient tomb were green and kept blowing. Look closely at a thousand branches and shed red tears. (monologue)
Pick a jade curtain, clear the moon, hang on the horizon, the night is quiet, drunk and sleepless, the branches of the phoenix tree sway and wither in the dead of winter, looking for that withered dream.
The tomb waited in silence for thousands of years with a single sword, mottled spray and broken shadows, cold pillows and a small play in the evening breeze.
Looking back on the past, looking back on the old dance, dancing in the long court of the former dynasty, enjoying the sunset, listening to the flute and watching the flying sword flowers.
The stone bridge is full of blue silk, and I see you laughing in a trance. The night is hard to bear, and how many grievances in the world are hard to tell.
That night, I woke up in the mountains, waiting for a season of mountain flowers. In the past, Leng Yue's frost sword danced like snow, and the years passed.
Dreams are soft, and dreams are hard to give up. Candles throw red tears, and a little clothes are difficult to understand.
A flower outside the entrance window sleeps with a faint fragrance and gently touches the heartstrings. How to pick up memento mori in the past years? The world of mortals is far from the mountain.
Memories of spring
Words/Moyan Xia Song/Hu Yuanping sings/understands the elegant blue sky, soft wind and hills, grass flying everywhere, ripples, clouds floating in spring, stories or memories, the flowing season of time has not changed, and the stories of the past are blank in my mind, so I have no choice but to remember. Memories are the last choice.
Peach blossoms fall, cherry blossoms bloom, butterflies laugh, and when they bloom, it is like a dream. Spring goes to heaven and earth and hides in their hearts. The unspeakable pain can be forgotten with the passage of time.
Look at the moon
Lyrics: Moyan Xia
Singing: Xie Yajiao
Looking back at the bright moon, the vast prosperity dissipates and misses your eyes! ruminate over
In my heart, it's like a previous life, as if you were by my side! In the moonlight, I miss the wind, accompanied by clear songs, waiting to see who is still young in a pink dress at night. I can't continue to love those flowers that bloom late. The memory in the dream is printed with portraits, and I think of standing where I first met. I want to see the desolation in the dusk, but I can't see the paper. Short-lived relationships last longer. Who do I want to disappoint? Only the piano can accompany me to forget how many feelings are flying. I want to forget whose hope in the moonlight.
Love you forever
Lyrics: Moyan Xia
Singing: Zhang
Watch the most beautiful fireworks at night with you.
Prosperity was sung as the happiest song.
Walk hand in hand through a person's loneliness
Love warms you and me.
I'm telling you, you went through the flowers and fell.
Gradually, these days come together into a legend.
Love walks between heaven and earth.
The happiness left is yours and mine.
Walk hand in hand through a person's loneliness
They all laugh at me for loving you so much.
I am willing to love you all my life and forever.
How many generations of marriages will be established in reincarnation?
Heart to heart, love each other.
Love is between heaven and earth.
They all laugh at me for loving you so much.
I am willing to love you all my life.
"Your Turn Left My Tears" Word: Moyan Xia Yulin Feng (Xiaoyu) Song: Yulin Feng (Xiaoyu) Editor: Yulin Feng (Xiaoyu) Singing: Yulin Feng It has been raining in my sky since the day you left. Drip rain is your promise to me. Why are you leaving me now? If time takes away your thoughts, I would like to live alone. You know I love you very much. Please come back and love me again. Your turn left my tears and pain, which I remember vividly. I don't know when you can go back in time. Your turn left my tears, and I will love you forever. I won't regret burying all the wrong memories and let me bear the pain.
Picking jade curtain
Word: Moyan Xia
The moon is high, the stars are shining, the night sky is quiet, the weeds are dying, the branches of the phoenix tree are swaying to find the scenery, and the dreams are fading. The Millennium tomb is dim and silent, the moonlight is hazy and mottled with water, and the night wind plays the old dance and floats all over the world. * * * Watching the sunset, smoke, flute and sword flowers are dancing in Shimen, the lights are hard to carry, and the night is hazy. The world is inseparable from feuds. That night, I woke up, waiting for a season of mountain flowers to diffuse past lives.
Candles shed red tears, dripped through the skirts, lingered through the windows, the flowers slept alone, smelled fragrant, touched the heartstrings, and the years faded. How to remember the world of mortals, distant mountains and distant mountains? "Looking at the Moon" won high praise from the organizing Committee of the third national CCTSxT(20 15 New Year Original Concert), and after national sea elections, Moyan Xia was selected as one of the top ten judges to perform "Looking at the Moon"