A glass of wine in the spring breeze of peaches and plums, a ten-year lamp in the night rain in the

[A cup of wine in the spring breeze of peaches and plums, ten years of night rain in the rivers and lakes] ([-])

Text/Mu Qing (Bing Shifeng)

In a secluded corner of the old tavern, a swordsman in blue was sitting, with a sword and wine on the table. The clear scabbard had been mottled with traces of time, and the intricate patterns carved on the scabbard had been blurred. He poured out a glass of sake, The aroma of the wine spread everywhere in an instant. The peach blossom wine in the tavern is famous far and wide. It tastes sweet and fragrant, and the wine is not intoxicating.

The swordsman in Tsing Yi held the wine glass to his lips, but he didn't drink it for a long time. He looked at the blue sky outside the window, and a pair of wild geese flew past comfortably in the sky, leaving only the distant figure lingering in the swordsman in Tsing Yi's eyes.

The swordsman in Tsing Yi gulped down the wine in his glass and sighed, "Flying from the north to the south, the old wing has been cold and hot..." Isn't he also like a wild goose always running from south to north...

Entering the rivers and lakes for the first time, the heroic young man wandered the rivers and lakes with arrogance and a bright light, made countless friends and became famous, but no place for him to stay forever.

Fast forward ten years, in the rivers and lakes, many people can't help themselves, where is the person who is thinking about, and I am still wandering alone in the rivers and lakes, and I can't find the trace of that person.

Filling up a glass of wine again, the blue-clothed swordsman's sad face was reflected in the wine glass. It turned out that he was so emaciated, and he thought that if the man saw him, he would not recognize him.With a wry smile, the Tsing Yi swordsman drank the wine in his glass again, and left here, where should he go?

The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River is hazy, the man is just holding an umbrella, standing in the drizzle, the water blue wide-sleeved brocade robe, the plain belt of colorful auspicious clouds, hanging a bamboo flute, he just stands there quietly, Smiles are forever.

The winter in the north is extremely cold, snowflakes are flying and circling, pedestrians are in a hurry, the man is wrapped in fox fur, sitting on the porch, the garden is full of red plum blossoms, and the sky is full of snowflakes. A piece of incense", I only hope that the person will take off the bamboo flute at his waist and play the most beautiful flute sound in the world.

The yellow sand in the desert was raging, and the scorching sun was in the sky. The man was still wearing a blue brocade robe, and he was spotless as he walked slowly, as if walking in the bluestone alleys of the water town in the south of the Yangtze River, very comfortable.The man wanted to see the spectacle of "the lonely smoke in the desert, the sun setting in the long river", and he finally lived up to his wish.

The swordsman in Tsing Yi recalled the places he had been to with that person, the scenery he had seen together, and finally tasted the sweet fragrance of the fine wine in his throat. He just didn't know when he would be able to meet again and travel together again.

This kind of life-and-death search, when will it end, or maybe there will be no end.

The swordsman in Tsing Yi put down his wine glass, put down some broken silver, picked up Qing Guang, and left the tavern with strides.

The cups and pots on the table testify to the chicness and sadness of another quack swordsman. What kind of quack swordsman will write the next story?