Jiuqu

After going upstairs, I finally refused to go downstairs. When I went up and down, sweat soaked my hair tip. The grief of the seventh floor, the seventh floor which couldn’t afford to be hurt, no longer had the mood of pushing the window and looking far away after the boat and car were tired. It is the second day to go to work when you turn over the deserted calendar for a long time. When is the beginning of such a day of going up and down. I like to watch it, but what I hear is the tireless roar of the train outside the West Gate. The feeble nap dream was so innocently broken in the roar of the train. In Ziyang, which didn’t rain, I was looking for the cool wind. When I took a bus with two yuan, I saw the wide window of the car, but I couldn’t see the air conditioner with gasp. There was a smell of powder in the hot air. There are many stations, but the distance between them is very short. Ziyang girls with long hair and waist on the platform are like a string of smart commas, connecting the hot Ziyang city vividly and gently. Ziyang, who took a nap, couldn’t be silent about my hot and dry feelings. The uncle with wrinkles on his face pushed me the homemade banana fan enthusiastically. In the era when air conditioning prevailed, the fans which gave off the fragrance of nature just survived in my memory which was not so long. I couldn’t go against those long memories, so I carefully chose one and shook the fan with red edge to walk from Shiyan mouth to Ximen food market. Those hot wind, passing through the spire of the font library mountain, with my swinging thoughts, the dragonfly walked through Ziyang city in my memory like a little water. In the gray image, the past and present lives of Jiuqu River are still wandering in the Erli bridge in the south of the city, with thatched houses to build bamboos, Lotus fields and buildings, and reeds in the sky, it seemed that there were still two sparrows staying on the telegraph pole with feathers in each other. According to the old Ziyang people, the Jiuqu River used to be called Huangwan River. On those grassy and Blue banks, there were always yellow fish hidden by the Green hooks that could not be caught by the dolls. Burning or frying, pickled peppers or steaming, or sending or selling, there will always be a different chance for different tastes. It is said that Confucius used to cook tea with the water of nine songs when he visited Hong, A peach blossom on the shore, a stream of clear water, a piano and a bamboo sound, the person has passed away, leaving only a piece of elegance. Seeing the light swing of the BiFan, Jiuqu River is no longer two miles away from the south of the city. The green shade standing on the bank unexpectedly had the coolness of the breeze Mat. Although I had been to Ziyang several times before, I was still not familiar with Jiuqu River. Standing at the bridge of the West Gate, I saw the egrets flying and Catkins flying, and my impetuous and hot air was lost among the rippling waves of mountains and rivers. Ziyang is a city with stories. Jiuqu River is the mirror she has held for tens of thousands of years, listening to the sound of horseshoe on the bluestone along the river and going through the wind and rain for tens of thousands of years, vaguely, you can see the busy figures of ancestors of Shu people, or tie ropes to remember things or dig wood to make fire, or drink the sweet Jiuqu River water with stone basins. Three-Yin residual sound especially in, four walking hurriedly. Looking back at the place called keel mouth in Lujia town, a clear stream winds down and goes through twists and turns of more than 100 miles, pouring into the mijiang River in Huangwan River, this kind of water has been drunk by ancient Ziyang people, Chang Hong, Confucius and sanxian. It is a wonderful thing to think about drinking with the ancients. On the bank of the Weeping Willow, a small boat crossed slowly. The beauty of the flute on the boat invited me to travel together. It was not an old friend but a better old friend. Ziyang’s goodness made people feel a little uneasy. After thinking for a while, I refused euphemistically. I really couldn’t bear to destroy the poetic and picturesque dream scene. The beauty of Ziyang was obvious in this smiling moment. The boat went away and the Jiuqu River turned. I could see the God, but I forgot to leave. I still need to go to the building, which is the home for my heart after work. I also need to use that long-standing clumsy pen to remove the floating dust and record the prosperity of Jiuqu River. Like (prose editor: Ke Er) the snow in spring

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