"Hard Work Becomes a Mansion" Ink Painting Danqing Wen Qiu
Examiner: You are Cheng Nuo.
Discussion time: 8: 00 pm 10 pm
-No small talk in the discussion room-
-Writing needs originality-
Theme falling flower
Type: ancient American prose
Reluctantly cultivate the land
In February of that year, we agreed that I would accompany you to see the flowers when the peony was in full bloom.
Times have changed and I am different, but I have no chance to honor my promise to you. Gorgeous peony flowers, gorgeous pavilions, luxurious brocade clothes, shy eyebrows. ...
The cloud is the love of my life. Now that she is rich, she doesn't have to have nightmares about running away anymore. A wisp of ghost made her smile.
Spring, summer, autumn and winter, four seasons change. Some people say, "One flower and one world, one leaf and one bodhi." One line and one history, one sentence and one paragraph. "I have guarded the person I love for ten years, and looked at her well. It's time to leave.
Put down the pen, calm down and close your eyes, and the white sea of flowers will open.
The fallen petal is heartless. Perhaps, what matters is not the flower itself, but the heart when looking at it.
Law of fear burning
Take half a quicksand and sketch a picture. In the picture, the fallen flowers gently fall on the lounge chair, and the years fall on the fingertips. Who has picked the cinnabar from the corner of his eye, the red wall and the blue tile? Who is singing that song tactfully? Who is holding the pipa half? The voice and smile are elegant and generous. Boil a pot of green tea, break branches, and lean against the window for a little residual wax. Peace and prosperity in your eyes. Let it sprout in the mirror, express a half-life love story and sway on the shore. For whom, the ink will turn a thousand times, see Qixia, kiss it with the wind, step on the balcony, where is home, wander the horizon, lean on the column of flowers, twist it into dust and sand.
Fear of death
The rain makes people drunk, the wind comes red and fragrant, and the flute controls the heart. When the flute was happy, it used to be a shepherd boy on the hillside.
The sound of Qinshui, Lingling and the warbler on the high branches spread people's peace of mind and the sound of water. Fireworks fall in March when songbirds sing sweetly.
When will the flying flower tomb be erected? The corner is cold and desolate, and the faint hair is cold in the eyes. Who can erect this flying flower tomb and see the girls in the building?
Under the tears, the flowers began to fall, and the sky was full of red incense. People looked at it alone and fell to the Jasper Lake. When the flowers fell all over the sky, it turned out that the wind was too light.
The dust settled, the flying flowers were exhausted, the tears were still wet, and the drizzle came, smiling at a beautiful woman passing by, especially remembering when people were there.
Quiet night, dream back, sighing that the beauty's name is too thin, the sweet soul is scattered with the wind, the poor heart is still unsolved, and the hatred is turned into a ghost.
From death to death, Yu Ge rose, unwilling to be reincarnated for the seventh time. Looking at the living soul on the other side of the world, I always see through the dream of the world of mortals, and the dream of flying flowers falls into sadness.
Looking at the tower outside the mansion:
Examiner: You are Cheng Nuo.
Discussion time: 8: 00 pm 10 pm
-No small talk in the discussion room-
-Writing needs originality-
Nine-piece machine instrument:
Pingping (Yunping),
⊙ Pingyi (Pingyi rhyme).
⊙⊙⊙仄仄 (rhyme change).
Flat,
Flat,
Flat and even (for flat and even rhyme)
Note: The first sentence must be "X Zhang Ji", X is a number from one to nine, and the rhyme must be "Ping Wu Shengwei".
Available homophones:
Wei Wei waved Wei Wei Fei Fei Fei Fei Fei Fei Fei Fei Fei Ji (Wei Wei, if you see a few) and ridiculed Han Yi (clothes) for being hungry.
I'm afraid of Jingyu.
A machine, Fang Ge's daughter made new clothes, secretly hid red beans and exquisite things, shy and eager to talk, happy and happy, and often sat in Emei.
I'm afraid of Jingyu.
Two machines, colored silk slowly twisted embroidery, sunset rouge stay fragrant and drunk. Mandarin ducks play in the water, lotus flowers stand side by side, whispering about the flowering period.
Ying ya Yu Lou
Three machines, making flutes day and night, grieve and get drunk and leave, get together for a while, and leave more or less until the cloth has passed through the loom.
Ying ya Yu Lou
Four machines, ivory jade hand holding blue bun, tailor wearing warm clothes, Yuanyang playing in water, lovesickness, a snow dance.
I am embarrassed.
Five machines, Deng Qinggu Temple depends on each other, and all the joys and sorrows are gone. White clothes are getting dyed, blood and tears are sad, and hatred is not half.
Trembling back to the song sentence.
Six machines, apricot leaves fall by the window. Life before the court is empty. When the buttonwood was defeated, it burned and withered, and the birds sang sadly.
Law of fear burning
Seven machines, half hidden in the middle of the night, the sound is sparse, the faint light and the shadow return to the shuttle system, weaving ten meters, full of snow, busy until dawn.
Law of fear burning
Eight machines, smoke rippling willow green, cold ducks playing grass by the river, giving away branches, no language at hand. When will the ship come back?
Ying ya Yu Lou
Nine machine, Xiao Jin sigh endlessly, a little crazy, flowers fall and fade, there are so many things, you don't know next year.
Jiuji
Law of fear burning
One machine, the perfume is low for carp, the pavilion is diligent, the dragonfly stands for a long time, and the smile is in the eye, turning into a rhinoceros.
Two machines, jade hook, cotton silk hanging from the cloud corner, wind blowing brocade to promote double quilt, screen window flowers, curtains and jasper, cherish each other in dreams.
The third machine, the first snow of the cold plum is late, and in the world of mortals, Leng Xiang leans against the bamboo and stands beside the pine and cypress, showing her unique charm.
Four machines, mulberry trees beside the fence are crazy about raising silkworms, and the wind urges the old trees to find red. Deep down, I whispered that she was making new clothes.
Five machines, the autumn chrysanthemum is thin and the wind blows outside the threshold, and the weeping willow courtyard is depressed and thin. Don't cry, you're drunk. Your tears have been wet all day.
Six machines, withered vines winding around the empty branches of the treetops, streams gurgling with cool water, clouds without wild geese, smoke all over the sky, and watching the sunset in seclusion.
I'm afraid of Jingyu.
The seventh machine, the cold star is cold and the west of Xiao Lou, full of worries can not be sent. Beasts smoke dimly, red candles cry, strings break, the night sky.
I am embarrassed.
Eight cameras, tears in the mirror alone, cinnabar makeup to make up the cuckoo's cry, this life is hard to wait, the years don't go, the sunset shines yesterday.
It is difficult to read this book.
Nine machines, Xiaoqiu embroidered acacia in the painting, moss danced to swallow a shuttle of tears, the court book turned white, the red dress was hard to remember, and only the crow in cloth was sent.
-Chapter V Ink Painting-Painting and Painting-
Looking at the tower outside the mansion:
Examiner: You are Cheng Nuo.
Discussion time: 8: 00 pm 10 pm
-No small talk in the discussion room-
-Writing needs originality-
Law of fear burning
Drunk for a minute, intoxicated by the beautiful scenery of the half moon, the wine dispersed and the wind was biting. Looking at the broken cup, I don't know how to worry, Mo Yan has no tears.
Drunk at two o'clock, leaning on the couch, Iraqis are depressed. They want to drink Huang Yingliu, singing quietly and lonely, lonely and windy, and Mo Yan has no tears.
Metric system: even (rhyme), even, even (rhyme), even, even (rhyme), even (rhyme), even, even.
Trembling back to the song sentence.
At three o'clock, I got drunk, raised my glass and slept beside the flowers, but said that I had been lost for a year and a half, and the sound of the piano curled up, and Mo Yanhua had no tears.
I am embarrassed.
Drunk at four o'clock, it is difficult to wake up in the dead of night, and the pen and ink are entangled. Love is not long, dust is like a dream. Mo Yan has no tears.
Afraid of the evil king
After five minutes of drunkenness, acacia has not broken all kinds of meanings. The words of broken candles are sad, the curtains are shaded, the quilt is cold, and Mo Yan has no tears.
Trembling back to the song sentence.
Drunk at six o'clock, the long skirt dances with delicate sleeves, Pinellia is infatuated with waste, looking back gaunt, the golden urn is half diarrhea, and Mo Yanhua has no tears.
I'm afraid of Longyue.
After seven minutes of drunkenness, the peach blossoms trembled, the spring breeze withered, and the half branches hung alone. Grass draws wild trails, incense and dust return, and Mo Yan has no tears.
Ying ya Yu Lou
Drunk at eight o'clock, prosperous. I have been exposed to wet clothes, three fireworks, an affair, and Mo Yan's tears.
Ying ya Yu Lou
Drunk until nine o'clock, riding home with a horizontal gun, putting wine on the piano and matching costumes, strategizing, Mo Yanhua has no tears.
Trembling back to the song sentence.
Drunk until ten o'clock, staring at the stars, holding wine, admiring the moon, drinking and urging, no one is silent, wandering souls, Mo Yanhua has no tears.
Law of fear burning
After a hundred minutes of drunkenness, the night rain in the air falls with the wind, and the residual red is sad all over the place. The porch window is bleak, and the dream returns to the state of mind, and Mo Yan has no tears.
Law of fear burning
Drunk for a thousand minutes, the curtain is green with the deep door lock, the light frost flies leisurely, the old dusk, the railing is tired, Mo Yan has no tears.
The flowers have fallen