Chapter 26 Epilogue deep in spring

By the time you turn this page, you've probably read the entire story. On the bottom of my bookcase, I keep a hardcover journal.The time is about the spring of 2000, and the content is the outline of a martial arts novel.It is updated every few days, with a steady stream of new ideas, and a large stall has been spread out.Several articles are hand-copied materials of Qin, Chess, Poetry and Sword.A few are writing reflections.There is also an article full of people's names - it was one night, the whole dormitory recalled the ancient names they had seen, and I recorded the results of the battle.Those names include Shuran, Yanran, Ouyang Yunhai, Chen Ruiji, Lou Difei, Zhou Caiwei...

That was probably the worst time.The homework is heavy, and the academic future is not satisfactory. I wish I could escape to the moon.The soul of Baima Tsingyi has no place to rest. In the small building in the 1920s that is about to be demolished in the medical university, a Huaxu flower grows abruptly. In the dream, there is a river of spring water, green mountains like Daisy, faint bamboos, and peach blossoms. full of road... The original outline was not like what you see now.In my immature thoughts, the heroine was forced to become a complete monster, and the hero was in a dilemma and had to leave her.In the end, they met on a cliff and died together, followed by a devastating disaster in the martial arts. (The outline of this abandonment was later written by me-that is another story.)

When winter comes, I start writing on my computer.Homework is busy and writing is very slow.By the spring of the following year, it was less than half done.So I didn't go home for the whole summer vacation, and I read Liang Yusheng's novels while writing mine.When the students all returned to school, I was done. Because I had been facing the computer for a long time, my face was very ugly, but I was overwhelmed with excitement. In a later blog, I recalled the situation in those years like this: "I always typed late at night, and the north window was bright with fish belly, and then fell to sleep on the mat. I slept until the next afternoon, opened the My eyes were in a daze, and I only thought about how to make up the following story? Imagining the fate of the characters, my heart was filled with soreness, and tears flowed down the pillow. After that, I also wrote many novels, traveled to many places, and read many words. But , the feeling of falling on the pillow and crying for one's own character, the writing experience of squandering dreams and emotions, the pure and gorgeous ecstasy, never again."

At that time, I didn't expect that after finishing this story, I would embark on a road of no return.I started to post the articles on the Internet, and I began to know that there are many comrades who are addicted to words in the world, and I also learned that there are really "jianghu" outside the campus.I met a lot of people and experienced a lot of things.Wen's journey is fairly smooth.I was very excited to publish a novel in a journal for the first time, but I felt a little dazed when I published a book for the first time... Time flies, the girl who wore an old cotton skirt and braided braids is now sitting lazily on the last train of youth superior.Year after year, spring goes to spring and comes back again. I open my palms and see what is left behind.Vividly, just some young smiling faces, a few warm names...

Five years later, "The Story of the White Deer on the Green Cliff" was officially published in "Legends of the Ancient and Modern Times: Martial Arts Edition". From the perspective of a mature author, I made a lot of deletions and adjustments for it.Some details are hidden, and some characters leave the scene.The ending of the first draft was already much milder than the outline, and the second draft simply became a happy ending after twenty years. Compared with some rare warmth and touch, tears and blood are common.If you say that you have gained something in these years, this is the biggest realization.

After the novel was published, I received a picture axis of Tiantai Mountain drawn by a young reader named Mo Yan.I took out this painting and looked at it for half a day, determined to write this postscript with a smile. Looking up through the screen window, the locust tree is green again.This has been the seventh spring since Shen Xuan and Li'er first visited me in a dream.Now, writing everything about "The Story of the Green Cliff and the White Deer" is like suddenly seeing the faded self on the other side through the smoke and water of words. In the late spring of 2002, I traveled alone for the first time, and the destination was Tiantai Mountain in eastern Zhejiang.I followed the map guide and looked for "Xiangu Taoyuan".Upstream of the hydropower station, unrepaired mountain roads are scattered on both sides of the stream. At first glance, there are huts on the cliffs, but at a closer look, they are weathered black rocks. The waterfall reflects dazzling white light in the midday sun, like a white deer jumping.

Melancholy Xitou said melancholy, who should ask "Why is it too late?" There is only an empty valley and no one, and the spring is as deep as the sea.That moment is forever.