I'm also worried about entering.

Who's not worried in the seat?

Let my hair turn white.

-Han Yuefu

one

When the dog barked, Qinghe rustled out of the shop and began to boil water. The room was dark, separated by a wooden lattice, and the sky outside was like a curtain made of roving, filled with gray smoke. The dog barked three times, and Qinghe was coughed by the wet pine branches in the kitchen, much like the cold insects under the trees in autumn. After piercing the darkness, the sawdust was suddenly lit, quiet and cold, and gradually warmed up.

Mr Liu's name is Guangyuan. In Beicheng, all the guests call him Mr. Nanchuan. Sexual alcoholism, eating at night, often sighing alone. Sometimes after drinking, I put pen to paper, looking haggard and desolate; Or ask Qinghe to get a bamboo flute with a long and wide sound, which dilutes the spirit and is better than the ancient style.

The night is very long. Lights, wandering like beans. Mr. Yan Juan, Qinghe people have fallen asleep against the table for a long time until dawn. After cooking tea, he always forgets to pinch off the slender snuff last night. There is a wooden plaque hanging in the middle of the room with no words on it. Mr. Wang often calls himself the "Seven-Day Lent". As for why Mr. Wang doesn't sign his name, Qinghe really doesn't have to think much. There are many puzzling things about Mr. Wang: he obviously has a good house in the north city and has to settle down at the foot of Nanshan. People in their thirties can't see their wives and children, but they set up stalls and write letters under the willow trees in Ximen all the year round for a living. But then again, Mr. Wang's letter is really good. "The two kings of brushwork have won the charm of Jin people; The bone style is beautiful and elegant. " These are Sue's exact words. In addition, Mr. Wang knows the law, knows the scenery, writes for others, says what others can't say, understands the truth that others want to know what they don't know, is proficient in grammar, and writes fluently, which is unique in North City. Mr. Wang is humble, honest and clean. Not only are illiterate people looking for him to write a ghost, but even those rich dissidents also look for him to write papers. Think of this, Qinghe more respectful, hands and feet more diligent, packed my luggage, open the door to feed the chickens.

The morning breeze is rustling, there is a gust of wind in the bamboo forest, the mountains are misty with white smoke, and the streams are gurgling under the house. Several reddish-brown cocks are doing nothing in the bamboo fence, or standing on one foot with their eyes closed; Or the red crown stands tall and wings to fly. At this moment, a telephone call came from Mr.:

"O green, you prepare, don't go to the stall today. Come to town with me later, and give grandma Camellia oleifera a message for me. Tell her that her letter can only be written tomorrow, and then you don't have to wait for me. Go home first. "

"Yes-"

Qinghe promised to carry two buckets of water down the river, and the autumn wind sent it cool. When he came to the door with two buckets of water, Liu Guangyuan had finished and stood in front of the house.

Looking at this gentleman, Qinghe almost didn't recognize him. Liu Guangyuan swept away the decadent atmosphere of the down-and-out scholar, tied his hair and put on his hairpin, while plain clothes was dressed in a blue robe. The whole person was faint with a sharp breath, and even the beard was short by three points. Careful observation, Qinghe found that sharp qi originated from Yu Xiansheng's eyes. When I followed Mr. Liu in my early years, my breath was stronger than now. At that time, as an extremely talented person, I didn't know how much smarter I was than now.

It rained for a while at night, and autumn insects gradually rang. Qinghe looked at the road in the distance, and then looked back at the empty house. People in the village have lit the lights, and the air is filled with a faint smell of cooking. As usual, Mr. Wang only eats at night without dinner, but today Qinghe is alone in this room, and he can only wait quietly.

When a lonely figure pushed open the wooden door and came in, Qinghe saw Liu Guangyuan, who was soaked and flustered in the light, and Mr. Wang's eyes returned to their usual turbidity. Mr. Wang didn't speak. He handed the unopened umbrella to Qinghe leisurely. He just sat under the eaves and stared at the autumn rain in a daze.

Qinghe silently put the change of clothes beside Liu Guangyuan. It has been raining, and I don't know when it will stop. In the evening, Qinghe began to take a nap in the hall with his elbows propped up. When he got up to prepare supper, he found that Mr. Wang was no longer under the eaves or in the house. The umbrella hangs quietly on the wall hook behind the door, but it rains harder and harder, accompanied by thunder from time to time.

two

Mr. Wang hasn't drunk at night for a long time. He is thin and eats very little. Qinghe had hoped to support his stomach with bowls of water and wine. But now, Mr. Wang often goes out alone at dusk, returns at midnight, and sometimes recites poems and works hard to be loyal; Sometimes I sigh and scream, which seems to be melancholy. People, like words, are getting haggard and yellow, but their eyes are getting brighter and brighter. Qinghe see in the eye, in a hurry to turn around.

Now, when writing letters, Mr. Wang seems absent-minded and often makes mistakes. However, he can't get a trace of sexual intercourse. He often rewrites the paper and rubs it again when he makes mistakes, and his temper is getting grumpy, even the neighbors are whispering behind his back. Liu Guangyuan likes vegetarian food. The roast goose that Qinghe learned from the grandson of the oil tea stall once improved the situation a little. Later, it was a bowl full of cold rice and put on the table for one night. So Qinghe made a bold decision, and he planned to follow Liu Guangyuan to find out.

The clear moonlight shines on the breeze on the water, reflecting the lonely Liu Guangyuan on the bridge. Qinghe followed her husband for five miles at night and came outside the city. I saw dark reeds swaying in the running water by the moat. Among the soldiers guarding the south gate is a man named Wang Er, who used to be a student of Mr. Wang's private school. Later, his father died and he got help from Mr. Wang. At this time, three or five guards seemed to be waiting for Mr. Wang in advance and welcomed him in from a side door. This can be bitter Qinghe, looking at the closed gate, had to walk back along the moonlight. So many times, Qinghe had to give up. On this day, he begged Liu Guangyuan:

"Sir, can you take me with you tonight?"

"Done."

Liu Guangyuan promised very simply, which surprised Qinghe, and then his heart secretly pleased. After a busy afternoon, Qinghe put the last box of vegetarian spring rolls in the basket, packed everything and happily followed Liu Guangyuan. As usual, the guards still politely opened the door and let them go. The northern cities are not big. Everyone asks Liu Guangyuan to write, and Mr. Liu is a charity. For them, opening the door is just a little accommodation, not dereliction of duty.

They crossed Tianxing Street and walked straight along Houguan Lane. Finally, Mr Qinghe stopped in front of Wang Yun Building, and his heart was full of doubts: Who should Mr Qinghe meet?

Seeing that it was Liu Guangyuan, the errand boy was busy welcoming them to the guest seat by the window on the north side of the second floor. Wang Yun Building is located at the intersection of Houguan Lane and Tongji Street. Both alleys are the best silk and satin villages in the city, and the business is acceptable. Wang Yun Tower and Jiyun Square are separated by a wall. Inside the wall is the Opera House to Jiyun Square, and the stage is opposite the window in the north of the building. Every night, 50% of the guests in Wang Yun Tower will come to the second floor to watch the play. All the guests need to do is order some tea and snacks, and they don't have to pay for the theatre, which attracts many people to sit here early. Mr. Wang's seat is not the best, but it is reserved for him. This Guang Chen, lanterns have been lit on the stage, and several pages have arranged tables and chairs and tea snacks under the stage. Qinghe stood behind Liu Guangyuan, looking at the scene outside the window, and his worries finally fell to the ground. If I had known that Mr. Wang was coming to the theater, he would have prepared more drinks and snacks and brought them to him.

Tonight's performance is Jing Ke stabbing Qin. Mr. Wang seems uninterested. He just listened quietly and looked at the snacks on the table. This seems to make Qinghe vaguely feel that something is wrong, but what it is, Qinghe can't figure it out.

Finished, Qinghe reluctantly put the snacks back in the basket, heart sinking, with KuQiang:

"Sir, what are you doing this for? There is not much spare money left at home, and it is not convenient to go to the theatre. You have tired yourself like this. "

Liu Guangyuan waved Qinghe stop, turmeric face withered laughed.

"Starting tomorrow, I won't come." After a silence, I said leisurely, "This martial arts drama is not better than literary play after all."

The ex-husband is back. To this end, Qinghe also stewed a pot of mushroom yellow chicken soup to recuperate Liu Guangyuan. At present, Mr. Wang is still guarding the stall on weekdays, but in addition to writing letters and draft papers, he has added fortune telling, divination and divination. In the past, Mr. Wang always tried his best to be sarcastic when he met a travel magician. At the most acute moment, Mr. Wang angrily scolded him to his face: "You guys don't even know what you are doing, but you still come out to deceive people." The man didn't say anything, just smiled indifferently and continued to fall out of the city.

When the dog barked, two figures, one long and one short, lingered in front of Dongcheng. People are surprised that such a ragged traveler is accompanied by an extremely young man. After a divination, everyone who looked for him later wanted another divination, but these two people were like the autumn wind. They only come to this city once a year, and no one knows whether he will appear next autumn.