Selected readings of Ding Limei's beautiful prose: listening to the silent dusk with idle flowers. Tung flowers are quietly open outside the classroom, like a small purple umbrella. Occasionally, the wind blows and the flowers fall quietly. A few girls, lying on the railing outside the corridor, seem to be careless, looking at the sky, looking at the ground and looking at tung flowers. In fact, everyone is watching Zheng.
Zheng He and a group of boys are playing badminton in the open space in front of the teaching building. The golden powder of the sunset glow fell all over her. She is wearing a green dress and a green silk scarf. She is pink and green. She kept jumping, screaming and laughing, like a blooming green mushroom.
Beauty is recognized beauty. Wherever you go, it affects everyone's vision. The girls pretended to be disdainful, but they couldn't help secretly watching her, watching her dress up, and quietly buying green scarves to tie them. The boys made no secret of their love. Boys from other classes came to the door of our classroom and shouted: Zheng, Zheng! Zheng looked up and smiled at them. Her eyebrows were curved and two deep dimples appeared on her lips.
? Bitch. ? Girls hate her inexplicably and scold her silently. When she heard this, she turned to look at it, still smiling and indifferent.
She doesn't like studying. In physics class, she put the book upright and put the small round mirror in it. Her face is shaking in the mirror, a gouache flower. Also play origami boats. The paper on the origami boat is all love letters written by boys to her. The love letter she received, Cheng Zha. She folded them into paper boats and collected them. Don't say yes or no to the boys who pursue her. Boys often fight over her. She knew, smiled and said nothing.
In senior three, a boy was finally hospitalized because of her fight. This incident caused a sensation in the whole school. Her parents were called. In front of many onlookers, her burly father slapped her hard and called her a disgrace. She cocked her head and said, I didn't let them fight! I didn't know they were fighting! ? When mother heard this, she skimmed her thin lips, and her face showed irony, saying, flies don't bite seamless eggs. You dress up like a demon all day and recruit people. ?
We were all a little surprised to hear that. This is not what a mother said. An informed classmate whispered:? She is not her real mother, but her stepmother. ?
The news shocked us. Looking at Zheng again, I saw her head down, biting her lips, and tears rolled down drop by drop. In the sun, her tears are so crystal clear, crystal clear, which makes people feel distressed. This is the first time we have seen her cry. But no one comforted her. Subconsciously, everyone thinks she asked for it.
Zheng was given a suspended sentence. The head teacher transferred her position to the corner of the last row of the classroom, separated from other students by two desks, like an island. She was isolated. Sometimes, our eyes inadvertently swept past and saw her silently looking out of the window. On the tung tree outside the window, there are many small sparrows chirping and always happy. The sky is blue and the sun is pouring down.
The season has changed from autumn to winter, and spring has come. Flowers are everywhere in the world, but we don't have time to take care of them. The college entrance examination is counting down, and we bury our heads in a pile of exercises all day, like ostriches burying their heads in the sand. Sometimes Zheng comes to class, sometimes he doesn't, and everyone doesn't care.
One day, a shocking news came out suddenly: Zheng eloped with a wandering singer. The news that the class teacher withdrew Zheng's desk was confirmed.
We realized that we hadn't seen Zheng for a long time. Looking up again, the tung flowers outside the classroom, I do not know when they opened, fell again, and the trees were covered with palm-sized green leaves, full of furry. In the open space in front of the teaching building, there is no Zheng, like a green mushroom, without her flying smile. Our hearts are inexplicably lost. The air is very dull, and in the dull, we ushered in the college entrance examination.
Ten years later, our high school classmates, far apart, went back to their alma mater for a party. We walked around the campus, looking for the footprints of that year. An old classmate found his inscription on a French sycamore tree near the playground. In fact, it was: Zheng I like you. We all laughed: Oh, I didn't expect you to be so honest, and you also love Zheng Ruping. ? After laughing, we were silent for a long time ? In fact, we didn't know Zheng at that time. She was very lonely in her youth. ? A classmate suddenly said.
We looked up at the sky. It seemed as blue as before, and the sun poured down on Wan Li. But in the end, it's different. Between our eyebrows, we climbed the wrinkles of the years. Drizzle wet clothes can't be seen, idle flowers fall to the ground and listen to silence. How much youth, in this way, quietly passed.
Selected readings of Ding Limei's beautiful prose: How many roses are like that cluster of roses?
Thirty or forty meters away from my residence, lying on the courtyard wall of someone else's house. I regard it as a flower given to us by nature. Every time I stand on the balcony and look down a little, I can enjoy it. At this time, the flowers bloom. At first, it was just one or two humble flowers, hiding among the green leaves, wearing a plain face and smiling faintly. Sharp-eyed, I found it and cried with joy, ah, the roses are in bloom. I appreciate it bit by bit, and the day has become a day of roses, hoping to move forward with great hope.
And by watching people passing by Bai Yutang. Some people walk in a hurry, while others walk calmly; Some people just pass by, while others come and go every day.
After reading it for a long time, some people have become old acquaintances. Like the old man carrying sugar. The old man was dressed in indigo, thin and black, like a man coming out of an ancient painting. His sugar burden is absolutely like an ancient painting: a plaque is placed at each end of the burden and an old gong is hung on his head. The old man took a wooden stick and knocked while walking, clanging, clanging. It provoked many passers-by to follow the sound and immediately smiled on their faces. Ah! I exclaimed that it turned out to be a candy seller.
That's right! It's a candy lying in a plaque. Milky yellow, like a big moon. That was a long time ago, and it was the sweetness of poverty. At that time, vendors carrying sugar burdens walked from village to village, tempting children and bringing them happiness and joy. As soon as they heard the gong, the children rushed into the room and took out the rags that had been prepared long ago, that is, some rags and waste paper and old shoes, in exchange for a small piece of stove candy in their hands. Stick out your tongue and lick it carefully. The sweetness of the palm fills your heart one by one.
Now, every afternoon, the candy cane of the elderly will pass through Bai Yutang on time. Many people gathered around to buy, men and women, old and young, some bought memories, and some bought exotic handmade candy, which was very rare.
I got into the habit of standing on the balcony after lunch, partly to see the roses and partly to wait for the gong of the old man. Dangdang, Dangdang good, coming! The wait finally fell to the ground. Sometimes, I will run downstairs, follow his gong and buy five yuan of stove candy to eat slowly.
Talk to him. ? Old man! ? He didn't get angry when I called him that, and he laughed. ? Don't run so fast, I can't catch up. ? I ran past the wild roses and stood in front of his sugar bear, panting. The old man answered me unhurriedly: There are people waiting to buy it in other places. ?
My ancestors made stove candy. This kind of business, he 14 years old, has been doing it for more than 50 years. Congenital disability, broken fingers, two hands together, only four and a half fingers. But he became a relative because of the kitchen candy, and his woman married him because she liked to eat the kitchen candy he made. They have a daughter, who doesn't make candy, works as a tailor and is married.
? This furnace of sugar is running out. ? The old man said that his tone was not necessarily so sad.
? Why haven't I seen you before?
? I've sold it elsewhere before. ?
? Oh, that's sweet for people from other places. ? When I said this, the old man smiled. He knocked over two pieces of kitchen candy and gave it to me. The milky moon is missing its mouth. He knocked on the gong and continued, clang, clang. Knocked on people's hearts, roses, opened.
One day, I took a camera to shoot wild roses. "The old man's cane just staggered by," I asked. Take a picture with these flowers. ? The old man was stupefied, smiled at me and said, I have never taken a photo except for my identity photo. ? He just stood with the burden of sugar on his shoulder. Behind him, the flowers on the wall were laughing. I took a good photo and showed him him him and the wild rose on the camera screen. He took one look and smiled. Pick up the stick in your hand, clang like this, and walk away slowly. Bai Yutang and I watched him. I think of Liu Yun's ode to roses in the Southern Dynasties: If you don't shake incense, you will be in chaos. ? The wild rose in the poem, I am fragrant, casual, natural, not extravagant, not demanding. The best state of life should be the same.
Selected Reading of Ding Limei's Beautiful Prose: Flowers Bloom. As far as I can remember, there are many flowers in the countryside and there are endless seasons. Summer is simply the peak season for flowers. Looking up casually, you can see a cluster of brilliant red or a cluster of pink white, smiling in the grass.
Needless to say, impatiens is available in every family. That's a girl's flower. Girls use it to dye their nails red When the flowers bloom, they are the most lively, dotted like green leaves, covered with butterflies, and are about to spread their wings and fly. The cat ran after the insects in the flowers, and her mother would laugh casually when she passed by the flowers. Time is as beautiful as flowers.
The strangest thing is that such flowers only bloom at sunset in the evening. There are big and thick flowers in front of the kitchen. In the evening, the flowers are in full bloom, and the light powder is like a trumpet, full of joy. Grandma glanced at the flowers and said it was time to cook dinner, so she bent down and went to the kitchen. Soon, above the corner, smoke will float. The dog began to run home happily, and behind that, it must be the parents with hoes, covered with faint night. We put the square table in the yard early, sprinkled well water on the ground (to cool off the heat), and the happiest time of the family is coming. The flowers are in bloom. Such flowers, when in full bloom, are full of the warmth of family reunion. The flower name is more chewy, and my grandmother calls it the dead wife flower. Is a woman who is willing to look after the house, waiting for her family to come home late. The sky is not old, the land is not old, the love is not old, and it lasts forever.
I like a song sung in a low voice. It's an orchid. It turned out to be a poem written by Hu Shi. The mood in the song is heartbreaking: I came from the mountains/brought orchids/planted them in a small garden/hoped that the flowers would bloom early. ? Must be a beautiful and pure country girl. One day, she went to the mountains, met an orchid, took it home, carefully planted it in her small garden, and then planted it. She went to see it three times a day and saw all the flowers in bloom. There are still no orchids. ? How disappointed she is, she muttered with a low eyebrow, with a little bitterness. The moonlight is like water, but the love in my heart is not forgotten every night. Are all beings always bothered by ruthlessness? Not necessarily. By next spring, the garden will be full of flowers.
I also read a touching story about flowers. This story is about a girl who lost her mother when she was three years old. Dad couldn't bear to hurt her, so he lied to her that her mother had gone far away and would come back when the peach blossoms in the yard opened. So the girl went to see the peach tree day by day and waited for the whole winter. In March of the following year, peach blossoms bloomed all over the trees. The girl was very happy and ran to tell her dad, dad, that the peach blossoms are in bloom and mom will come back soon, right? Father smiled and said, Oh, mother will come back when the roses in the back of the house open. So the girl ran to the back of the house hopefully every day to see the roses. When the roses were in full bloom, my father told my daughter that my mother would come back when the Haitang on the windowsill was in full bloom. In this way, year after year, girls grow up in beautiful waiting. Healthy and lively, without a trace of melancholy and bitterness. /kloc-On her 0/8th birthday, the girl hugged her father affectionately, leaned in his ear and said, Dad, thank you for your beautiful lies over the years.
Flowers bloom constantly, and love is endless.
The painter once mentioned plum blossoms in his memoirs. It was a conversation between him and a Mr. Chen? Have you forgotten the New Year? . At that time, Huang Yongyu was still a poor boy, teaching and writing articles everywhere, but he would go to Teacher Chen's house every New Year's Eve. At that time, Miss Chen's red berries were in full bloom. One year, when he couldn't arrive as scheduled, Mr. Chen wrote him a letter, in which he wrote: The flowers are in bloom and the rice is waiting for you. I thought you could arrive at night, but you didn't come back. Look, the flowers are in bloom. ?