The years are quiet.

From The Book of Songs National Style Zheng Feng, the original sentence is "Pipa is in the Imperial Palace, so it is quiet and good"; Recently, I read a book "The Queen of the Palace" casually, and there was a sentence that moved me for a long time. "The harp is in the palace, and the years are quiet."

Originally from The Book of Songs, National Style and Zheng Feng. This sentence is: "Yi Yan adds color to it, which is suitable for the son. It is advisable to talk about drinking and grow old with your son. The harp is in the imperial court. Keep quiet.

Harp, harp, harp, a natural pair, the sound of harp is exquisite and long, and the sound of harp is rich and ethereal, which is called the harmony between harp and harp.

Harp, harp, harp, harp. If the skin does not exist, how can the hair be attached?

From the harp and harp, we can see that the ancients vowed to live and die together.

In modern times, there is Hu Lancheng, who told Zhang Ailing that "the years are quiet and the world is stable". Although they parted ways after four years, it is undeniable that when they signed the life-long contract, they must also be deeply in love, and they must also hope to grow old together. They must also be full of joy, but things are unpredictable.

No matter where it comes from or what the result is, it will still give birth to a sense of coolness and warmth every time it is read.

The years are quiet and the days are light.

Staring at everything in this indifference.

The ease of happiness lies in its daily existence. As long as you have the heart, you can find it anywhere. Cherish each other, and the years are quiet.

Simple tea, simple rice, simple sweetness, delicious food and exquisite beauty. It's expensive in your heart.

This is the emotional transformation, and it is also the most ordinary and real moment that I never forget.

What could be happier than this?

If someone can tell you this oath like Ye Zhi:

When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,

Take a nap by the fire, please write down this poem.

Read slowly, recall the softness of your eyes in the past, and recall their heavy shadows in the past.

How many people love the beauty, hypocrisy or sincerity of adore you when you are young and happy?

Only one person loves your pilgrim soul and the painful wrinkles on your aging face.

"Life is fleeting, ups and downs are impermanent", but I know that even if it is bumpy, the crow is warm and really happy.

The harp is in the imperial court. Keep quiet.