When they got back to the carriage, Mei Xiang was waiting for her with a smile on her face, while Chu Qiao sat down quietly, her heart still beating wildly.
Is she too impulsive
"Miss." Mei Xiang added a cushion for her with a smile, and said, "Everything in this world cannot be handled with reason. This servant feels that Miss was too calm before, and being impulsive once in a while may not be a bad thing."
Chu Qiao turned her head to look at her in surprise, surprised by Mei Xiang's keen insight.
Mei Xiang laughed and said, "Miss, don't you know? Now you have written everything on your face. Compared with the previous lady, Mei Xiang thinks you are more likable like this."
The carriage started to move, and Ping An came over and asked, "Sister, do we want to go with those people?"
"Let's go together, of course!" Jingjing opened the curtain and shouted, "Not only will we walk together, but we will live together in the future, haha!"
Mei Xiang poured a cup of ginseng tea for Chu Qiao, sighed softly, and said, "Miss, not everyone will wait for another person year after year. Some things, if you don't catch them at the time, will happen again in the future." Whatever happens, you will regret it."
The warm wind blows in along the slightly raised car curtain, like a mother's gentle fingers, the sky is clear and blue, and there are faint eagles flying away, passing through the clouds and staying away from the dust.
Chu Qiao was sitting on the stone steps, looking at the sea of clouds in the sky, the flowers in the courtyard were incomparably bright, red and yellow, very attractive.
The waiter at the inn was sitting on a small stool, making tea seriously. He was just a child of thirteen or fourteen years old, just at the age when he was young and escaped. Jingjing and Ping An also sat aside, chatting with him casually.
Chu Qiao heard them talk about the scenery of Shuqiu in Sichuan, the ancient plank roads in the hills of southern Xinjiang, the Cangjian Pavilion in Daxia, the Wuya Mountain in Biantang, and finally the Daxueshan Huihui in Yanbei. Get lively. Jingjing took out a box of candied fruit from the room, and chatted while eating.
Mei Xiang was sitting under the camphor tree, weaving a wreath, her fingers fluttering like colorful butterflies, dazzlingly nimble.
The sky gradually darkened, lights were lit in the yard, and the heat gradually dissipated. Jingjing asked the kitchen for several ice bowls, filled with various fruits, which were cool and delicious.
After all, it was the previous heavy rain that washed away the suspension bridge in front of Autumn Wind City, and the trip of Chu Qiao and others was delayed. They had to stay in Autumn Wind City for two days before they could continue their journey northward.
Now, they live in a small inn near the mountains and rivers. The entire inn is built on the mountainside, with ups and downs, well-proportioned, and lush trees. From a distance, it looks like a forest.
Chu Qiao's room was located on a high rocky cliff, facing west. The boss is also an elegant person, because this place is adjacent to Xizhao Mountain, so he named it Xizhao Courtyard. Every evening, the sunset here is extremely beautiful.
Zhuge Yue lives in the nearby Guizang Building. Yesterday afternoon, he sent his guards to help the government build the suspension bridge and ferry. Presumably there is something urgent and he needs to go back immediately.
It rained during the day, and it stopped in the afternoon. The leaves are green and the flowers are scattered, but they are even more charming.
Chu Qiao was wearing a beige linen skirt, with an ebony hairpin on her head, and her long black hair was loosely tied up in a bun, looking very refreshing and comfortable.
The moon is very round tonight, Chu Qiao looked at it quietly, and suddenly remembered that the Mid-Autumn Festival is coming soon, but this place is not only for the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The Mid-Autumn Festival here is called White Moon Festival, which comes from a song that Chu Qiao once heard in the army. The song sang about a man who rode out to fight for many years, from a soldier to a corporal, from a corporal to a general, and finally he returned home after fighting, only to find that the house at home had collapsed , his wife was also taken away by others, his parents and son starved to death, his bones were turned into ashes, and there was not even a grave.
She still remembers the last sentence in the song: The moon shines on my soul, urging you to return home early.
Since then, the White Moon Festival has become a reunion festival. People are advised to cherish family members, not to ignore family affection for immediate gains and losses, and regret it when it is irretrievable.
The moon shines on my soul, urging you to return home early...
"sounds so good."
Mei Xiang stopped Ying Luo in her hand, turned her head to look at Chu Qiao, said with a smile, "I've never heard Miss sing before."
Chu Qiao was taken aback for a moment, and then realized that she had hummed unknowingly.
"This is really a good song. Miss, can you understand the meaning of this song now?"
Chu Qiao tilted her head slightly, "Mei Xiang really likes to reason with others recently."
"I've never read a book, and all I know are the simplest truths. How can I compare to Miss?" Mei Xiang chuckled, and then said, "But sometimes, the more you know, the more confused your mind becomes. It ignores some very obvious truths."
Day after day, every year on the beam of the house, overlooking the village road, I still don't see my husband.
Fulang Bao frontier, outsiders kicked doors and walls, children have no clothes, parents are hungry.
The sky is high, the emperor is far away, and the soldiers are not in the village. If the village head is evil, he is the king of the earth.
There is a little bit of wind and rain, the cold snow piles up the broken house, and the moon shines on my soul, urging you to return home early.
The smile on Mei Xiang's face was very peaceful, leaning against the tree and humming quietly, some petals fell and hit the wreath in her hand, and the white light of the moon fell on her fingers, like curved butterfly wings.
At this time, there was a faint sound of a flute in the distance. The distance is too far, the sound of the flute is faint and faint, with a vague and lingering feeling. Occasionally, it is high-spirited, but it is also clear and handsome, three times and nine turns, curling like smoke, empty and long, don't have a magnanimous feeling.
Ping An and the others were still chatting, but when they heard the sound of the flute, they suddenly stopped talking. Even a person like Jingjing, who has no rhythm, listened with his ears open, looking very quiet.
Mei Xiang stood up, turned her head and went back to the room. When she came out again, she held a beige cloak in her hand, which was lightly draped over Chu Qiao's shoulders, and said with a smile: "Miss has been running around for the past few days, and has been worried. It's time to rest now. The backyard of this inn is very beautiful, and the moonlight is just right tonight, so you might as well go out for a walk, miss."
Chu Qiao turned her head away, only to see Mei Xiang looking at her with a faint smile, with hints of encouragement and encouragement in her eyes.
"Mei Xiang..." Chu Qiao wanted to say something, but she couldn't say it.
Mei Xiang said: "Miss, Mei Xiang doesn't understand anything, I don't understand the righteousness of the world, beliefs, and beliefs. I just hope that Miss can have a better life. You are a good person, and that song should not be sung for you. "
The moonlight shone on Chu Qiao's face, she was slightly dazed, and couldn't help but think of the second half of the song:
The green mountains are cold and hot, the snow is drifting, the king does not know the way back, and the world is boundless.
The child died of the plague, the parents had no rice soup, and the concubine had to sell herself in exchange for living food.
Husband has ambitions, unwilling to be poor and lowly. He has been looking forward to the king's return for ten years, and his temples are stained with frost.
There are many entanglements in the world, years of water and sorrow, don't ask for great wealth and honor, poor and humble share a bed.
"Mei Xiang, go get that light green one."
Mei Xiang was taken aback for a moment, and looked at her hesitantly.
But she suddenly laughed, stood up and said: "The whole day is either white or black, like a funeral."
The moonlight shines all the way, she walked quietly, all the years past flashed in her mind one by one, like a row of flying egrets, flying meandering through the world of ink painting and calligraphy. Everything that was fierce or gray or rich or bleak gradually settled in the bottom of my heart, turning into a puddle of water and finally freezing into ice.
Enmity, fetters, hatred, entanglement, help, hand in hand, life and death, reunion, struggle, joy, parting, loss...
Every time she took a step, a picture, a landscape would appear in front of her eyes, and each painting carried too many heavy things. There are family and country hatred, personal grievances, debts and wrongs, persistent thoughts, years of repression and forbearance, and fierce and circling attempts to break through the shackles.
So many emotions filled the bottom of my heart, and they were finally pierced one by one by the straightforward lyrics, and they spread out fiercely along the fingertips.
She is Yi Wang Bihu, who uses reason and calmness to form a thin layer of ice for herself, suppressing all the emotions she feels are wrong.
One year, two years, many years.
There is a small pavilion above a secluded pool in the back mountain. The wooden pavilion has been a bit dilapidated, but the boss planted a few Duruo and wisteria under the pavilion with great care. The small flower discs climb up along the vines , winding the pillars round and round, adding a bit of elegance and tranquility.
The moonlight shone lightly on the blue deep pool in front of it, and a full moon was reflected in the center of the water waves, a round of snow white.
Zhuge Yue was wearing a lavender long gown, and he was sitting casually on the steps under the pavilion, with one leg bent and the other straight, his back leaning against a peeling pillar, a few strands of black hair slipped from his temples and fell on his forehead. His appearance is still very handsome, holding a turquoise bamboo flute, playing a very beautiful tune. There is no obsession with resentment, no lofty ambition of Lingyun, just like a country ballad played by an ordinary boy, sometimes light and sometimes soothing, with the mischievous Du Ruoxiang wandering around him, like a naughty child.
Chu Qiao stood there quietly, without making a sound. The wind blows over her light green cloak, and the tulle is fluffy, like willow branches in early spring.
She never seemed to have looked at him so carefully. The years have been rough, and many years have passed. She used to feel sorry for herself and felt how unfortunate she was, but now that she thinks about it, she is at least much luckier than the general sung in that song. The house hasn't collapsed, the relatives haven't died, and the person she loves is still standing where she is. As long as she is willing to turn around, she can get into his hands.
Even though he was separated by thousands of miles and the world couldn't tolerate him, he still walked firmly to today step by step, using his rare self-willedness and stubbornness to break through the confinement again and again, propping up a clear sky for her to hide from.
The ice in her heart melted in an instant, and she seemed to hear the building of reason collapse, and she said to herself: Maybe, I can be willful once.
After all, she hasn't been willful for many years.
The sound of the flute stopped suddenly, and the man turned his head slantingly, seeing the woman in green standing quietly under the osmanthus tree, a little lost.
"How did you come?"
"You are only allowed to come, but I am not allowed?"
Chu Qiao smiled, walked over and kicked Zhuge Yue's leg, and said, "Get out of the way."
The man retracted his legs, and she took advantage of the opportunity to sit down. The white and bright waves of the deep pool reflected on her face, like broken pearls, full of leisurely.
"Zhuge Yue, the suspension bridge will be repaired tomorrow, so you're going back to Daxia, aren't you?"
Zhuge Yue nodded, looked at her with some surprise, and said, "What's wrong?"
"Then when are you coming to see me?"
A trace of surprise flashed through the man's eyes, but he was a little strange, looking her up and down, as if she had some conspiracy.
"Are you going to wait for Emperor Xia to die? Or do you have to wait for Zhao Che to ascend the throne? At that time, will you be able to retreat completely?" Chu Qiao sat on the stone steps with her knees bent, the hat behind the cloak drooping on her back, slightly raised , Surrounding her white neck. Her chin rested on her knees, her eyes were looking at the pool in front of her, she suddenly turned her head and said, "Zhuge Yue, let me sing a song for you."
The woman's eyes are extremely clear, not the sadness that she once had insight into the world. She looked at him quietly and smiled quietly, just like many times in a dream, there were no other impurities in her eyes, no shadow of other people, only him alone.