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On the small tree outside the house, two birds sang and flew up to each other, flying alternately, and uttered a melodious cry from time to time.
There is always so much vitality in spring, and the young seedlings on both sides of the fields are just emerging, turning the gray-black soil a little green.
A young man is holding a hoe to cultivate an uncultivated field. His appearance is upright, with a bit of prudence and solidity. He is wearing a brown blouse and has a solid figure. His skin is a little wheat-colored by the sun. It seems that he has been doing this field work all year round.
After turning over the land, the young man sat on the edge of the field to rest, put the hoe beside him, and patted the dirt on his hands.
The sun shines on people warmly, not as hot as in summer, and there is also a cool shallow wind blowing.
The pleasant weather makes people unconsciously comfortable, and the young people are sitting leisurely under the thatched shed beside the dirt road in the field.
There was a simple wooden box in the thatched shed. When it was opened, there was a small bowl of barley rice inside. It looked like it hadn't completely cooled down yet, and there were two pieces of dried vegetables on it.
The young man sat under the straw shed and took a mouthful of rice, then added a piece of dried vegetable leaf with chopsticks and took a bite.
Apart from the chirping of insects, there are no other sounds in the field, except for the occasional sound of wind blowing dry grass.
It is also one of the pleasures to live in the farm and sneak away.
Not far from the field stood a hut built of grass and trees.
It doesn't even count as a hut, the house has four or five rooms and a small courtyard.
There is a straw curtain hanging in front of the hall in the small courtyard. Through the straw curtain, one can faintly see a person lying inside. The figure is lying half-lying, holding a fan in one hand and shaking it slightly, and the other hand seems to be holding a book.
There was a gentle reading sound in the hall, and the voice should be just a young man, and from time to time, a burst of self-chants and soft songs could be heard from inside.
There should be a kitchen on the other side of the small courtyard, and the cooking smoke is floating above it, presumably someone is cooking something to eat.
A faint thought came from the kitchen, and the light smoke from the roof floated into the air, rising into the air and disappearing.
After another period of time, probably when twilight began to appear in the sky, and when the western sky was reddish, the smoke from the cooking houses stopped, and the sound of reading books in the hall also stopped.
A girl of twelve or thirteen came out briskly from the kitchen.
Wearing a light red shirt, with a small braid, willow eyebrows and bright eyes, she is not very good-looking, but she has the kindness and sweetness of the little girl next door.
Walking into the yard, drawing some water from the well, and washing her hands, the girl called out to the hall in front of the yard, "Brother Zhong, it's time to eat."
The person in the straw curtain seemed to be half lying there and waved his hands, and a somewhat lazy voice came.
"I know, go and call your uncle."
"I know." The girl in the courtyard said helplessly. Her second brother always lays in the hall and reads every day without doing anything else. He is always so lazy. I don't know what to do.
Shaking her head, she walked out the door. There were fields outside the hut. The girl entered the field and ran towards a thatched shed.
Sitting in the thatched shed was the young man who was plowing the land just now. At this time, he had also finished his rice and was sitting in the thatched shed drinking water.
The girl ran to the edge of the field in the thatched shed, waved and called, "Brother, it's time to eat."
The young man in the thatched shed heard the girl's voice and came out early. Seeing the girl waving at him from a distance by the field, he smiled and responded.
"understood."
As he spoke, he picked up the hoe from the field and carried it on his shoulders, and walked out of the field with the finished food box.
The setting sun shone on the field, spreading a reddish layer, and the clouds in the sky were a little dazzling, with distinct light and shadow, which elongated the figure obliquely.
But it is a leisurely pastoral scene.
The young man plowing the land smelled the smell of rice when he walked into the door, and put the hoe and the food box by the door.
Turning around, he saw the girl was carrying the food to the table, and said to him with a smile: "Uncle, wash your hands and eat."
"Hey, don't worry, I'm not hungry yet." The young man scratched his hair.
The girl looked at him suspiciously: "You have been in the field all day, how can you not be hungry?"
The young man sneered: "I just ate the meal I brought out in the morning, so I'm not very hungry."
"Morning meal?" The girl was startled, and then said angrily with her hands on her waist.
"How many times have I told my uncle that the morning meal should be eaten quickly when you take it out. Wouldn't it be cold if you eat it at night?"
"Eh." The young man showed some embarrassment on his face, and smiled bitterly: "Didn't I forget it?"
"Always say, you always forget." The girl rolled her eyes.
The boy's eyes moved, and he changed the subject and asked.
"Why didn't Brother Zhong come?"
"Him?" The girl turned around and arranged the dishes.
"It's still the same as before, thinking about the painting of Shuofang girl, every day at this time."
As he spoke, he pouted his mouth: "I see him, his soul has been hooked."
"Haha, you can't say that." The boy went to the well to fetch water and wash his hands.
"When Brother Zhong and Congfu were traveling, he happened to see the Shuofang girl in the mansion. He was shocked. Since then, he has often copied it at home. It should only be yearning for the skills of the ancestors, not the girl in the painting."
"Sounds good." The girl muttered.
Inside the straw curtain in the hall in front of the courtyard, the former scholar was sitting there, holding a roll of canvas in his hand, looking at the canvas in a trance.
This person is also a young man, wearing a long white gown, with a feather fan beside him.
His brows are clear, and there is always an indescribable bearing in his eyes. He is not handsome, but he is still a young man.
He looked at the painting in his hand, sighed, and said to himself: "It's still a little bit of a dream."
"Brother Zhong, stop looking at your Shuofang girl and come out to eat."
The little girl's cry came from outside, and the boy holding the painting shook his head and smiled: "Here we come."
Taking a last look at the painting, he carefully rolled it up and put it away.
Although the small hut in Nanyang is clean, there are always some people laughing and talking.
In the last years of the Eastern Han Dynasty, when the Han family was in decline, the country was uncertain, and it should be that smoke was about to rise.
"tread."
A branch on the road was broken, and a person walked out from the forest beside the road.
The man was wearing an off-white shirt, which looked a little dirty. There is a bamboo hat on top of his head, a black "cane" in his hand, and a heavy-looking bookcase on his back.
"cough."
The man coughed, there was a lot of dust in the forest.
"Google."
With a groan in his stomach, the man touched his body, heaved a sigh of relief, and sat on the side of the road.
Lifting his bamboo hat, he said weakly.
"Ah, I'm too hungry to walk."