The fog in London first emerged from the ripples of the River Cam.It also seems to be part of that river. The fog, flickering with water color and orange lamp shadows, rose up from the river surface like smoke.It is wrapped in a faint scent of carnations, which makes people feel the warmth of a season.The fog was also full of vigorous vitality, dripping with an unspeakable emotion. Because of this fog, the surrounding scenery is also vivid. The river became more peaceful and calm.The water is calm, and the fallen flowers of saffron are floating on it.Half of the moon was cut off by a dream, cruising quietly on it.The willow branches hang down affectionately, paddling patiently on the water.The river is like a record, and those silent and wordless songs are flying out.

Kanghe should actually be called Jianhe.It passes through the world-famous University City of Cambridge. Several of the most famous colleges are lined up on its east bank. Hexi is the activity place of various colleges. There are more than 30 colleges in this university city. Cambridge University is just a symbol. Sexual name, the earliest university was founded in 1209.Among them, the famous ones are Royal College, Trinity College and St. John's College. They are lined up on the King's Street in the center of the University City. They are the most magnificent architectural groups in the University City.It has academicians and professors with profound attainments, and has cultivated many outstanding talents in the world.Famous poets in the history of English literature, including Desmond Waller, Horace Walpole and Robert Bullock, came from the Royal College in this university town.Many parts of Cambridge University have maintained the style since the Middle Ages, and there are ancient buildings that have been carefully maintained as they were for hundreds of years.

For those students with dark eyes and yellow skin, the banks of the Kang River under the shadow of the moonlight have a different style.The beauty of the Cam River is not only the exotic atmosphere like oil painting, but also its nobility and tranquility with a bit of melancholy, just like the distant Xiao sound of the old country. Lin Huiyin and Xu Zhimo always walked quietly on the banks of the Kang River under the splashing moonlight and fog.At this time, the bells of the vespers in the steeple church on the opposite side sounded distantly and desolately behind them.The metallic sound is an inspiration, always reminding them of the lights of Geshan, and the nights of moonlight as strong as wine.

Lin Huiyin was 16 years old that year. She was born with beauty and was already a graceful and innocent girl.Her beauty has attracted many young men.However, no one can read her innate melancholy from her enigmatic eyes with the unique insight of a poet like him. He is 24-year-old Xu Zhimo. When they stepped on the steps of the stone bridge, Lin Huiyin's ears sounded like waves: "Huiyin, at this time, what is the one thing you want to do the most?" She smiled and said nothing, reached out to pick off a willow leaf, and held it gently in her mouth. They were walking up the Bridge of Sighs, an elaborate wooden bridge that St. John's College had built after the bridge of the same name in Venice.There are 7 such small arch bridges in Cambridge, which are connected to the campuses in Houhe District, each with its own characteristics.This Bridge of Sighs is the most exquisite one, with a small corridor full of windows on both sides, which is blurred with a comfortable atmosphere under the moonlight.Blonde girls in white clothes and skirts, in twos and threes, used long poles to prop up the boat and passed under the bridge opening, driving a series of youthful laughter far away, and the curtain of fog and moonlight was lifted and quickly closed again.I only see the white shadows floating across the water like leaves, which makes people yearn for it.

"I really want to be like those English girls, using long poles to prop up a wooden boat and pass through bridge holes. Unfortunately, I have tried several times, and those poles are not at my mercy. The bridge piers collided," Xu Zhimo said. Huiyin walked silently. "Do you know what is the most beautiful thing about the Cam River? It is the fog and the moonlight. It combs your hair like a mother and wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes. With this fog and the moonlight, you will not feel homeless "Zhimo continued, "You know what? Not everyone feels this way. This beauty always gives you a kind of shudder, which is the true essence of beauty. Without the shudder, there is no beauty. You know this bridge?"

When they walked on the "Mathematician's Bridge" at Royal College, Zhimo talked about beauty and life again: "This bridge has no nails. In 1902, out of curiosity, some physicists took the bridge apart to study it, and finally they couldn't find it." To restore, you have to use nails to reassemble. Every beauty has its inherent structure, which cannot be disassembled at will, and life is different. You can change any chain, and the whole life will be changed because of it.” At that time, she always listened to him silently and looked into his unfathomable eyes behind the tortoiseshell lenses.She felt that when he smiled, he was very gloomy, and that smile was often stingily returned by the long soft chin in the middle of the smile. A 24-year-old young man should never have this kind of smile anyway.

"I think I will be a poet in the future. Huiyin, do you know? I checked our family tree. Since Yongle, no one in our family has written a line of verse that can be passed down. My father sent me to study abroad. , I want to enter the financial world in the future. Huiyin, my highest ideal, is to be a Chinese Hamilton (Hamilton, a famous bourgeois politician in American history, the leader of the Federal Party, and the former Secretary of the Treasury). But now No, I always want to write poetry when I'm with you." "One day when it rained cats and dogs, you went to Wen Yuanning's school building and asked him to watch the rainbow on the bridge. Has there ever been such a thing?" Huiyin asked curiously.

Shimo nodded. "How long have you been waiting on the bridge, did you see the rainbow?" "I see." "How do you know there will be a rainbow?" "Oh! That's quite a poetic belief." He spoke eloquently, his eyes fixed on the river, as if his thoughts had been entrusted to the shadow rippling in the water. When they first met, this gaze made her heart tremble inexplicably. That day, Chen Tongbo, a Jiangsu student studying abroad at the London School of Economics, brought a tall, thin young man in a long gown to the apartment where his father and daughter stayed. Chen Tongbo introduced: "This is Xu Zhimo, from Haining, Zhejiang. The School of Economics is studying for a Ph.D. from Lai Shiji, respecting Mr. Lai Shiji's moral articles and calligraphy art, and paying a visit."

Lin Changmin, who came to London to give lectures after being frustrated in officialdom, has just got rid of the troubles in the political arena and likes to make friends with young people.He was often surrounded by some young students, and it was obvious that his father quickly fell in love with this young man with the blurred eyes flashing behind the tortoiseshell lenses.They talked very happily. More often, Lin Changmin talked about Huiyin, and even called her baby name "Huihui" in front of this strange young man. Her original name is Lin Huiyin, from "The Book of Songs.Daya·Siqi: "Siqi is the great man, the mother of the father and king. Simei Zhou Jiang, the wife of the Beijing family. The big Si's heir Huiyin is Bai Sinan." Later, in order to avoid being associated with Lin Weiyin, a male writer at that time Mixed, changed to Lin Huiyin from 1934.

Huiyin inexplicably found that there was a strange expression in Zhimo's eyes. She noticed his long and soft chin from time to time. When the chin always retracted his smile properly, she felt that this young man was very interesting. Lin Changmin asked Zhimo, "Where is Mr. Xu's residence in Haining?" "Xiashi." Xu Zhimo replied. "Xiaoshi?" Lin Changmin's eyes lit up. "Jiayan used to be the magistrate of Haining. I have been to Xiashi. On the mirror-like plain, there are two beautiful peaks standing on both sides of the town. You call it "Shuangshan". Dongshan is very beautiful. Little, I often climb up the hillside, there is a kind of pumice stone on the hillside, which cannot sink in the water, and there is a kind of reed in the west mountain, but it sinks immediately when thrown into the water, do you think it is strange?"

Zhimo smiled: "Pumice and reed sinking are two rare events in Xiashi. It's rare for you to remember them so clearly." Lin Changmin went on to say: "I also climbed the hexagonal pagoda on the top of Dongshan Mountain, and I also moved out the incense burner of the Three Immortal Temple with a few children. We took turns playing Bodhisattva and enjoying the incense." He seemed to be back to the one who moved the incense burner. Aged, brightened up. "Now the temple is so dilapidated that it doesn't look like it! There is no incense burner, no Bodhisattva, nothing has changed, only the white water spring in the back mountain, the water is still so clear, so clear that you can see the pebbles at the bottom of the water." Zhimo also forgot . "At that time, Wu Qingqing ran out from the house when she was playing for fun. Don't you know that her feet are deep and shallow." "Old Man Ge is a high official in Iraq!" The two happily forgot about the opportunity, and involuntarily chatted in Xiashi dialect.Huiyin seemed to be falling into the clouds, and those apricot-like eyes rolled: "Dad, what are you talking about!" "I don't know about Nonasuke, Zhimo Lige is a township party!" Lin Changmin still couldn't hold back his enthusiasm. Huiyin and Zhimo laughed so hard that they couldn't straighten up. The local accent is like water, quickly dispelling the strangeness of the first acquaintance. That night, the old and the young talked for a long time. Since then, Zhimo has become a frequent visitor to the Lin family.Every day at four o'clock in the afternoon, drinking tea is Lin Changmin's homework. This is also a British way of life. He soon followed the customs, which was also the custom of his ancestors.The British love tea and have a history of 300 years. The pronunciation of tea in English was called tea in the middle of the 19th century according to the pronunciation of its hometown Hokkien. The afternoon tea of ​​the Lin family is completely British style, but the teapot is a traditional Chinese hat-tube teapot. A cotton cover is added to keep it warm. The cotton cover is made into the style of a girl in a long skirt. When guests drink tea, Lin Huiyin will serve it Serve a few plates of hot snacks. Zhimo often brings two or three friends to chat with Lin Changmin.When the chat was in full swing, Lin Changmin spread out the rice paper as usual, and Hu Huiyin rubbed the ink, and the pen was like a snake, with a few large characters, bursting with applause.Lin Changmin's impromptu works are always excellent, and the ink is often taken away by visitors before it is dry.When he is in high spirits, he hangs his elbow with a brush, which can last from dusk until midnight.Zhimo and others spread paper and served tea, and they were equally enthusiastic.Many of those superb calligraphy works are regarded as treasures by British friends, and they must work hard to find them. Lin Changmin forgets to write, and sometimes Huiyin chats with Comrade Mo in the back room.One day, when Lin Changmin put down his pen, Huiyin and Zhimo came out of the back room. He blurted out to Chen Tongbo and other guests in the room, "Look, are Huihui and Zhimo a natural couple?" Huiyin and Zhimo blushed suddenly. Even Chen Tongbo felt abrupt and opened his mouth wide. At this time, Xu Zhimo had been living with his wife Zhang Youyi, who had been married for four years, in the countryside of Baston near Cambridge.Zhimo went abroad alone three years ago. He first went to Clark University in Massachusetts to study economics. He came to London from the United States a year ago. Zhang Youyi was brought here by Zhang Moruo from Kip Shek after Zhimo arrived in the UK. The Lin family was not far from the Xu family, and Zhimo usually rode a bicycle to and fro, and sometimes took a streetcar. It was too late to talk, and Lin Changmin also asked Huiyin to take Zhimo a certain way. They walked slowly along the flagstone path leading to the Baston countryside.Thick mist crept up from all around.Huiyin's flashlight was able to fill a foot, illuminating the road ahead for Zhimo.The autumn insects chirped at their feet, singing an ancient song of life.From time to time, a few withered and yellow leaves fell from above the head, that season has retreated to the edge of time. "It's autumn again when a leaf falls." Zhimo sighed. "Huiyin, you know that I am most afraid of autumn." He picked up a leaf and put it under his nose to sniff, as if he wanted to suck the embers of life into his lungs. "This is Lixin Shangqiu! It's been 3 years, and I feel like this leaf, floating in the uncertain wind, I don't know where my home is." Lin Huiyin looked at him with tears in his eyes, how could she know that this kind of inexplicable sadness had never left Zhimo for a long time. When Xu Zhimo was studying economics in the United States, he came into contact with Russell's philosophy and decided to study under Russell in the UK.Tortured almost to the point of despair by hope, he was finally admitted to the School of Economics in Cambridge. Half a year later, in a chance arranged by fate, he met the famous writer Dickinson. After a lot of trouble, Dickin was able to He was recommended to study as a special student at the Royal Academy. Lin Huiyin listened silently. Zhimo was talking about this, his expression was calm, as if he was telling someone else's story.However, Huiyin has understood that suffering is the suffering that has practical significance for those who have experienced it.And is she just a story listener?How much she wanted to put her slender hands on his slightly trembling shoulders. "Huiyin, I really wrote a poem, can I read it to you?" Zhimo asked.Huiyin nodded, her heartbeat seemed to speed up. dew on the grass Each is a transparent crystal ball, new comer swallow Whispering in the old nest; Zhimo's baritone voice mixed with Xiashi Mandarin was lingering in the night mist. chi chi!Can't spit out Fan Yu from the southern mountains and the northern mountains, I can't finish sprinkling the Qiongzhu of the East Sea and the West Sea, Blending with the rhythm of Qin, Se and Xiao Sheng, Dine and eat the light of the stars, the sun and the moon! Huiyin involuntarily continued: O poet!It's not that spring is in the world, not open you yet Fountain of creation! Zhimo's eyes lit up leisurely. this thunderbolt Shattered the clouds and mists of the sky, Hyun Hwan's Rising Sun And ascended on the throne of gold; soft south wind Wrinkles the generous face of the sea, white seagull Travel freely through the clouds and through the waves; Huiyin went on: O poet!But it's not the time to sail, not ready for you Singing fishing boats! Zhimo said excitedly: "Huiyin, your sentences are really wonderful!" The tone of his recitation became more high-spirited. You are the skylark skylark, Across the world regardless of the past and present, Scattered with rare musical splendor; Lin Huiyin covered her face with her hands, she didn't dare to let Zhimo see, tears welled up in her eyes.The bell for evening prayer coughed twice in the distance, Zhimo stopped, half a minute later, he extended his hand to Huiyin, but Lin Huiyin stuffed the flashlight into his hand. She looked at the ray of light with some regret, like an orange leaf, drifting hazily into the mist in the distance.