V2.Chapter 190 (2/2)

The cousins picked up the books at will and watched them. Thinking that his uncle would not be able to read a few pages, Wei Changying chose a thin collection of predecessors' poems. Where can I think of song Yuwang? But I was stumbling over there. When she finished reading the poetry collection, I didn't see anyone talking to song Zaishui. But I saw that she was reading a book with great interest. I was so absorbed that I didn't disturb her. The study was so huge that I wandered around in the study.

When she watched for a while, she suddenly found that the signature of a painting and calligraphy hanging on the wall was exactly the name of her uncle, so she stood up and looked at it carefully: first, she glanced at the painting, but it was a huge lotus and lotus leaf, which was menacing. Lotus is originally the flower of a gentleman. It is quiet and far away. However, there is a kind of crazy intensity in this painting. Bi Yi Sen, red flowers gorgeous, white flowers bleak, three colors reflect the meaning of beautiful.

At first sight, Wei Changying's subconscious breath was smothering, and he was a little distracted. He thought to himself, ”there are several lotus paintings of my uncle hanging outside. How can they be different from those here? If you do not have a close look at the similarities, you can only see the artistic conception, as if it came from the hands of two people. ”

She couldn't help but read the words on the title of the painting, which were quite a few. They occupied a large part of the painting. When she looked at it carefully, it was a mourning article, but it was written seven years ago: because the time was said at the beginning, it was ”the mid summer of renxu, the wind sent the summer heat, and the moon filled the building.”. I heard the song in the middle of the night, and looked at the dressing table in front of the window, as if I saw the shadow of Qing Qing. I was ecstatic, woke up at first, and felt sad. From the beginning of the study of ink, spin the book.

Below is the text -

”Yu JinSu has not been burned for a long time, and the Green Qi has been burning for years.

The ring of the dowry pin is golden and dark, and the red silk on the wrist is deep.

Remember when the jade hand tied, banter words bound but 13 lives!

In the middle of the night, I dream back to you and feel happy to practice the old alliance.

The lonely shadow under the candle, cherishing the red face and the thin Zuo; the frost temples in the mirror, hating the length of my life!

I look up to the sky, and I feel more sorrowful when I am in the sky; I remember when I was first married, I stole my whispers and didn't talk at night.

When nuoyong is good, he will tie his hair and grow old; when Yuanyang is there, the full moon shines in the sky.

The heart of Zhu LAN is depressed, and the bowels of lotus pond will be broken.

The lotus fields are vast and the wind is fragrant.Although the night is also turbulent, it is known that the day is burning.

Once upon a time, I took Qing to the blue boat, turned the laurel oars, plucked the green cover, and swung the red flowers into the lotus.

At that time, he took the Green Qi, set the scorched tail, played the pipe flute, hit the jade fou, picked the lotus and peeled the Lingling, played the water and scooped the fish, or said: ”if you can scoop the fish into the palm, you will be sorry if the bandits can sink the fish!”

He pretended to be angry. He held the lotus leaf in his hand and carried the water to pour more water. His summer clothes were wet, and he smiled and returned. On the waves of the clear sound, the lotus skirt shines in the summer.

Today, the lotus pond is still the same, the moon is bright in the sky, but the blue boat is burned, the piano fou is hidden, and only the flute is left!

-- hibiscus flowers in the air, like the fragrance? The songs are misty and the thoughts are pure.

Weeping in the middle of the night, it's hard to write; remembering the promise, juxtaposing with the cave; the netherworld spring, waiting for me to walk up; the afterlife, there will be no difference! [note] ”

first, Wei Changying saw the painting with strong and sad artistic conception, and then read the mourning articles, which inevitably brought ups and downs. He thought:” strange way, when my uncle lost his spouse, he was in his prime, and my grandfather had only one legitimate son under his knee. Even though there were two cousins, they were not prosperous enough, and they refused to continue. It turns out that my uncle was so affectionate towards my aunt. Although this eulogy was written seven years ago, it is still hung on the wall of this study. It seems that there is no dust on the wall. It is obviously due to frequent cleaning up. It can be seen that my uncle has no time to forget his aunt, and he can no longer tolerate the people next to him. ”

”Father still has a red silk rope on his wrist now!” I don't know when, song put down his book in the water, came over, looked at the painting and calligraphy, and said, ”it's said that my mother likes to weave red silk rope as a bracelet for my father, because there are so many weaves, my father can't wear them all at that time. Later, my mother went, and my father has been wearing them all the time. I don't throw away the old ones, so I can put them away. ”

Wei Chang Ying sighed, ”it's a pity that my uncle and aunt are so deeply in love.”

”Yes!” Song sipped his mouth in the water and said softly, ”don't talk about it or the painting when you see my father later Every time he mentions his mother, though his father doesn't say it, he always feels sad for a while. ”

Wei Changying doesn't mean that his uncle hasn't been through the pain of his wife's death so far. He can't help but be awed. He jotted down the matter and asked, ”how are you doing on the uncle's side?”

”So easy to get rid of.” Song is in the waterway. ”Do you think this painting is fascinating? ”You didn't hear Dongjing come here and say it just now?”

”In that case, let's go back to the flower hall and wait for my uncle.” Wei Changying didn't notice when Dongjing came in to report. She thought that since Song Yu can't hear anyone mention his dead wife until now, she would rather not let him know if he saw the calligraphy and paintings he made in memory of his wife in this study.

[note] it's written by the author himself. The author's level is limited. Please take it as a prop automatically.