Chapter 24 Twenty-four, forget the machine

Love in the world is nothing but reunion, separation and reunion. No one in this world can afford the promise of the sea and rocks, just like the river bank cannot provide the eternal harbor for green boats, and the ancient road cannot provide the eternal reunion of separated people. When spring comes to Fangfei, spring fades away, and when love goes deep, love becomes thinner.Yes, a person you once loved deeply will one day become the person you will try your best to forget.It used to be the bright moonlight in front of your window, but now it is a thorn in your heart.It used to be the glory of your youth, but now it has become an indelible shame.Love in the world is nothing but reunion, separation and reunion. No one in this world can afford the promise of the sea and rocks, just like the river bank cannot provide the eternal harbor for green boats, and the ancient road cannot provide the eternal reunion of separated people.Everything in this world, what we have taken and possessed, will one day be returned with both hands, without leaving a single drop.

There is always some love that we can't forget, and some people will always keep beautiful fantasies because they never really got it.It is said that the accidental meeting in life is the most beautiful meeting in the world, because there is a hazy imagination in each other's hearts.A person standing in the rain and fog or under the moonlight, no matter how tough he is usually, must be tender at that moment.The love we look forward to may be getting along day and night, never getting tired of seeing each other.Two people have been together for a long time, living an ordinary life of spring and autumn, and when there is nothing new, they will get bored and dislike each other.Just like a cup of tea that has been boiled many times, the color and fragrance have been filtered out, will you still keep it in the cup with affection and never give it up?

This is not unfeeling, just like a play that ends in a dull mood, maybe you will not be satisfied, but after all, you will be gone, and you will stay in your heart for a night or a few days at most before you forget it.How much love has lost the taste of the past, and you don't need to say it to be a little alienated.Su Manshu knew that he was not old enough to only have memories, but these days in Tokyo, he always looked through the emotional books repeatedly.Those yellowed pages carried a kind of desolate dilapidation and incompleteness, just like the green moss growing in his heart that had not been taken care of.Su Manshu once said that he dare not easily plant roots of love in his heart.But things didn't work out, in this life he kept planting roots of love, but never gave them sunshine and rain. His love withered and died before it could be reaped.

One after another fate was wasted by him, Su Manshu thought he was innocent.Fleeting years will dilute everything, but if you stand on the river of time to salvage, you can still fish out many remaining fragments, such as pearl hairpins, powder boxes used by beauties, and silk handkerchiefs they used, as well as tear stains. .Maybe Su Manshu is not affectionate enough, but in the lonely time, his soft poetic heart will always miss the beauties of the past.Holding a plain pen in his hand, his eyes were blurred with tears before the words landed on the poem paper.Su Manshu deeply understands that words are still the thing that sticks with him the most.The fire of the years cooks the past years, and the burned enthusiasm is turned into ashes, scattered in the cups and cups of the days, and the remaining warmth still exists.

At the age of 32, Su Manshu wrote nineteen poems of the famous "Miscellaneous Poems of Dongju" in Tokyo, Japan.Words and sentences are all born from the heart, and any language is so pale in the poems.We can read his inexhaustible complex in the poem, read the wandering sorrow of a wandering guest, and the boundless loneliness of a frustrated person.How much I want to be a real lone goose, not afraid of the world of mortals, and die to hate the waves of the sea.But he always loses his way, flutters his wings, and finally stays on the shoulders of a foreign land.The Buddha said, let go of everything, and then you will be empty.But every time he burns the fallen leaves all over the mountain, he looks forward to the natural rebirth, ends a relationship, and expects a new story to happen.

We can't tell which beauty he wrote for which poem, only he himself understands who he misses at the moment he picks up the pen.Memories are like a raging tide flooding in my heart, out of control.Su Manshu even thought affectionately that he could offset his past mistakes by writing so many heart-warming poems, and turn his anxiety into a clear conscience.There is no such thing as a new day in this world, and there is no good medicine for regret, otherwise there would be no need for the word "regret".Su Manshu didn't understand that those women never blamed him, but he himself was burdened with guilt year after year and couldn't help himself.

Many people don't understand whether Su Manshu has truly loved deeply in his life.He is like a lone cloud, wandering all over the world, has he ever had a real stay?His thirty years seem to be longer than other people's lifetime; the love he has encountered is more than others' lifetime; the things that have happened are more frequent than others' lifetime.But what is the inventory of the years?The only thing that can be witnessed is the cassock he wears to prove that he has been a monk and a monk; it is the women who have fallen in love with him, and their names can prove that Su Manshu has indeed loved, gained, and lost; His albums of paintings, his collection of poems, and his name recorded in the annals of revolution all prove that he is not a poor man.

In fact, Su Manshu's heart is as clear as a mirror, who is the woman he really loved, and his poems are the best witnesses.What he will never forget is the resentful woman with lowered eyebrows and bowed head, stroking the strings, the woman who met him by chance on the stage but was deeply worried off the stage, and the woman who made coffee with him and stayed up all night. A woman who talks at night.This woman is the Japanese girl playing the koto, Hyakusuke.Among the many women, the most guilty one is her first love, Chrysanthemum, and her beloved is none other than Baizhu, followed by those kabukis in the Red Chamber who wander in life.Su Manshu asked himself that he was sincere to every woman, and even though they were all hurt by him in the end, only the zither player really won the sentence "I wish I could never meet again when I was unshaved".

In 1916, Su Manshu returned to China from Japan at the beginning of the year.This year, Yuan Shikai was about to proclaim himself emperor, and he set up a national defense army in Shandong to attack Yuan Shikai.When Su Manshu heard the news, he knew that he could not stand by and watch, so he went to Qingdao to meet Juzheng in the spring and joined the crusade team.Su Manshu lingered in Qingdao for several days, deeply moved.One is because the body has never fully recovered, and I feel powerless in the face of the chaotic situation in the army, and it seems that I can no longer find the enthusiasm that I had before.Furthermore, I feel that although my heart is full of moss, I still have concerns about ethnic politics and cannot let go of it easily.

When he came to Qingdao, the most unforgettable thing for Su Manshu in his life was the trip to Laoshan.Laoshan is known as "the house of the gods, the house of the supernatural".Half of it is blue sea and sky, with turbulent waves beating the shore; the other half is green pines and strange rocks, lush and verdant.Legend has it that Qin Shihuang and Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty all came here to seek immortality, and Qiu Changchun and Zhang Sanfeng practiced Taoism here, so Laoshan was painted with a layer of mystery.Although Laoshan is a famous Taoist mountain, it does not conflict with Su Manshu, a Buddhist disciple.They all say that they practice in this life, and the Buddha cultivates in the afterlife, but they all aim at pure cultivation, forgetting the opportunity indifferently, saving themselves and others.

The tides come and go with the day and the moon, the country has gone through countless changes, and history has been rewritten beyond recognition.Only Heshan is still as eye-catching as before. How many people have entrusted their emotions, and what kind of results have they gotten?Those who have been devoted to Laoshan to visit Xiandao and beg for longevity have nowhere to look for their bones.Where did those Taoist priests who climbed mountains to collect herbs, made alchemy and cultivated immortality go?Time has proved all kinds of ruthlessness in the world, but generations of people still perform dramas that refuse to end the curtain for this ruthless world. In the face of the vast and boundless nature, how insignificant people are.The scenery of mountains and seas is a natural painting screen given by God to Laoshan, and I don’t know how many vicissitudes of life have been experienced before it is exchanged for such a wonder in the world.Here, you can really forget about everything and leave everything behind.No matter the world under the mountain is sunny or rainy; no matter the story in the world is the beginning or the end; no matter whether the lover in the world is alive or dead.In Laoshan, you are just a speck of dust among the clouds and mist, a drop of water under the flying spring and waterfall, and an insect on the ancient pine.