Chapter 12 good story

The lights are gradually shrinking, indicating that there are not many oils; the oil is not old-fashioned, and the lampshade is dimly smoked, the sound of whips and crackers is nearby, and the smoke of tobacco is around: it is a drowsy night. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and leaned against the back of the chair; the hands holding "Beginners" rested on my knees and ankles. I was in a haze and saw a good story. The story is beautiful, elegant and interesting.Many beautiful people and beautiful things are intricately intertwined like a cloud of brocade in a sky, and they are flying like thousands of rushing stars, and at the same time, they spread out to infinity.

I seem to remember that I took a small boat and passed by the mountain vagina, tallow trees on both banks, new grasses, wild flowers, chickens, dogs, bushes and dead trees, huts, pagodas, gardens, farmers and village women, village women, clothes drying, monks , coir hat, sky, cloud, bamboo, ... are all reflected in the clear green river, with every stroke of the oars, each entrains the flickering sunlight, and rippling with the algae and fish in the water.All shadows and objects: all disintegrate, shake, expand, and merge with each other; as soon as they merge, they shrink back and return to their original shape.The edges are jagged like summer clouds, fringed with sunlight, emitting mercury-colored flames.This is true of all the rivers that I pass through.

The same is true of the stories I see now.The bottom of the blue sky in the water, on which all things intertwine and weave into one piece, which is always vivid and unfolding, and I can't see the end of this piece. Under the withered willows by the river are a few skinny Yizhanghong trees, probably planted by village girls.The big red flowers and dappled red flowers are all floating in the water, suddenly shattered and elongated, strands of rouge water, but not dizzy.Thatched huts, dogs, pagodas, village girls, clouds, ... are also floating.The big red flowers have been elongated one by one, and now they are red brocade ribbons rushing.

The belt weaves into the dog, the dog weaves into the white cloud, the white cloud weaves into the village girl... and in an instant, they flinch again.But the dappled red flower shadow has also been broken and stretched, and it is about to weave into the pagoda, the village girl, the dog, the hut, and the cloud. Now the stories I see are clear, beautiful, elegant, interesting, and distinct.In the blue sky, there are countless beautiful people and beautiful things. I see and know them one by one. I'm gonna stare at them... When I was about to stare at them, I was startled suddenly. When I opened my eyes, the brocade was also wrinkled and messy, as if someone threw a big stone into the river, and the water suddenly stood up, tearing the entire shadow into pieces.Unconsciously, I quickly grabbed the "Beginner" that had almost fallen to the ground, and there were still a few fragments of rainbow colors in front of my eyes.

I really love this good story, while Suiying is still there, I want to recover him, complete him, and keep him.I threw the book away, leaned over and reached out to get it——how could there be a fragment of shadow, only the dim light, and I was no longer in the boat. But I always remember seeing this good story, in the drowsy night... February 24, 1925