I can recommend Shui Yuehua's Looking Back in Disappointment.

I want to know why my Jinse has fifty strings, and each string has a youthful interval.

When I first met him, it was the season when the phoenix tree bloomed wantonly. The huge canopy is burning, red as fire, but not a trace of green.

And he, sitting under the buttonwood, fiddled with it.

Plain clothes, with silver hair and golden eyes, suddenly became like a fiery fairy.

At that moment, he seemed to see the bright and cold moon fall for nine days and turn into this dusty white.

His clear and ethereal piano music came to an abrupt end because of his arrival.

Those golden eyes with moonlight looked straight and coldly, almost cold, like ice and snow. Let his heart freeze almost instantly.

Then, he got up and walked slowly to the pool in the hospital.

Without looking up, I threw heptachlor, which I was fondling just now, into the clear water.

"No matter how precious the piano is, it will be defiled by your murderous look and you can't play a good tune." Very simple, he said.

I was startled to hear his voice, which was low and euphemistic, but what I said was like a sword, which stung his heart very hard.

His self-esteem at this time is like a fragile glass, which was broken by this man.

From then on, he will never forget his contemptuous eyes that day.

Since then, his eagle-like ambition has added another item: after winning the picturesque country, he wants this arrogant man to submit to his feet.

That year, he was a hostage sent by Jing State to Yan State. And he is the third prince of Yan.

The high status is self-evident.

When we meet again, it is already Yan's face.

He was sent by his father, as an envoy of Jing State, and surrendered with rare treasures.

And sitting next to the son of heaven in today's Yan State are the three most trusted princes.

He saw from a distance that the Bai Lianhua-like face on the resplendent throne was still spotless and beautiful.

He dedicated it to the beauty of Jing State, pearls in the South China Sea, jade in Lantian and corals in the North China Sea.

A piano was presented to him. This piano is seven feet long and made of good paulownia wood. It's called Luo Ying.

"In order to personally dedicate the piano to your highness, I haven't practiced sword for half a year, and I haven't been equipped with a sword in March. I believe that there should be no murderous offense at this time. " He smiled and looked disguised.

He is confident that no one can find his domineering today, because he has learned how to restrain himself. Turn sharpness into peace.

However, under his cold eyes, he still has some scruples. Afraid he'll see into his ambition.

"The famous piano, forget the past. Are you willing to give up such a rare thing? "

He asked suddenly. He answered calmly.

"A piano gives a bosom friend. In my hands, it is useless; In your hands, you can play eternal masterpieces. Of course I am willing. "

Perhaps it was something that made him happy. His eyes felt a little warm, just like the first soft light in the freezing cold winter, gently passing over his face.

I can't help feeling glad to see him take the piano away.

Let's enjoy ourselves.

The king wanted to return the gold, silver and jewels, but he refused them all.

Just say, I heard that the third prince's piano skills are the best in the world, and I hope I can have the honor to listen to him play a song.

He did not refuse. After burning incense, I played a song for him.

The sound of the piano is crisp and straight for nine days, and it turns tactfully.

When he heard this, he recognized that it was a piece composed by the first generation violinists, and it was called Farewell.

Fill the green coffin with you, don't rush back. Three points of spring, two points of sadness, one point of wind and rain. Flowers bloom and fall, and how many will come. Stop complaining. I don't know where we will meet when Peony comes next year.

During his stay in Yan State, he always looked for opportunities to visit Xuanhe Palace.

Since he knew that he was invincible, he approached him even more unscrupulously.

He likes to see beautiful and elegant people with red and white.

But I can't forget the oath I made when I was humiliated.

He can always talk and laugh when he gets along. Anecdotes and interesting stories from all over the world seem to be at your fingertips.

He is not as cold as when he first met him, but he doesn't talk much, and occasionally replies faintly, which makes people lose their temper.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, he likes to look at his face carefully.

That unusual white hair looks like a kind of silver flowing like water, soft and bright, like a slender white silk.

And under the shallow colorless eyelids, there are a pair of bright golden eyes.

Frosted and snowy skin, picturesque eyebrows.

How beautiful it would be if such a person were a woman.

However, he is the third prince of Yan.

With such an unusual appearance and arrogant temperament, how did he survive in this intrigue palace?

The buttonwood tree in the yard is in full bloom again, and one tree is vying for the red of the flame.

The phoenix tree blooms like a phoenix nirvana, not because of death, but only in the afterlife.

Flowers burn everything, and they will be born again in the coming year, over and over again. This is the lifestyle it chooses.

And he likes to play the piano under the buttonwood, especially when the phoenix is nirvana.

Look at heaven and earth, flowers fall like rain, and listen to the decadent voice of all beings in the world.

He said it was like the Enlightenment.

He doesn't understand.

He only knows that in a burning fire, his white color is so gentle and natural with the fire color, without any abrupt feeling.

He raised his hand and gently picked up a phoenix feather from his silver hair. He joked: "If the three princes have this crimson hair, it must be another dazzling beauty."

He sighed lightly: "The white hair is amazing. If it is red hair, I don't know what kind of evil it will be. "

At that moment, he was shocked: he also lived a life of being pointed at.

Young white hair is enough to make waves among the vicious palace population.

Besides, he is still a red man in front of the son of heaven.

Jealousy,

Resentment,

Defamation,

Squeeze ...

He has to bear much more than his calm appearance shows.

Since then, he has never said anything about his appearance.

The third prince's piano skills are excellent, and he is said to be one of the four best in the world with Mrs. Di's songs, Mr. Murong's paintings and Princess Lan Cheng's dances.

As long as the slender and clean fingers gently fiddle with it, a string of sweet sounds like a clear spring will flow out from the falling strings. The sound of the piano is like hitting the shore and rolling up thousands of piles of snow; When choking, it is like a cuckoo crying blood, and the sound it makes is tears.

He seldom plays the piano, except for the son of heaven today, who is another exception.

Maybe it's because of his friendship in sending pianos. As long as he goes to Xuanhe Palace, he will play a song for him.

He doesn't know the rhythm, but he always captures his thoughts in the sound of his piano.

One day, listening to the faint worry in the sound of the piano, he asked with a smile, "Is the third prince tired of playing the piano for cows?"

He shook his head and said nothing.

He turned and whispered in his ear, "Well, you must be worried about the royal family awarding the prince."

Smell speech a surprised, voice stopped. He, uh, hit the nail on the head.

"Father wants me to be a prince. But the young and the old are orderly, and the brothers Yan and Yin are all-rounders. They are the best candidates. " He replied.

More importantly, he is indifferent by nature and has no ambition to rule the country and level the world. He knows this best.

And he never forgets his great ambition every day.

If we can establish eternal hegemony and create a world-famous reputation, even if the iron horse flies over the battlefield, the sound of the waves will wash the shore like frost.

Say it again, why not?

Inadvertently saw his Bai Lianhua-like fingertips stained with a trace of blood, and couldn't help reaching out and holding his hand: "I scared you and hurt your hand. This is a sin. "

"It's nothing serious, it's my own distraction, no wonder others." He tried to pull out his hand, but made him hold it tighter.

Under the stalemate, his calm face was a little flustered. Outside the window, the red feathers of the phoenix burned so beautifully that it seemed to reflect his pale face.

He carefully wiped the blood from his hands with an ordinary piece of silk. Looking up, I saw his eyebrows drooping, his thick eyelids fluttering like sheep in front of the wind, and his faint eyes beating with golden flames, calm and strong, amazing.

That plain face, at this time, hung obliquely with a deep and shallow touch of red in the sky.

At the moment, his heart moved like a butterfly.

The frantic heart almost made him despair.

He tried to calm himself down.

Yes, he will get him eventually, after he wins the world, when he makes everyone kneel.

Besides, not now.

The next day, he resolutely set off for Jingzhou.

He didn't say goodbye to him or come to see him off.

However, when he stepped on his horse and turned around, he heard his piano music passing through the deep courtyard and lingering around him leisurely.

It's a long lovesickness.

-One ride on the mountain, one ride on the water, I walked to Guan Yu's side, and there were thousands of lights at night. When the wind changes and the rain changes, it is impossible to break the dream of hometown, so there is no such sound in my country.

He smiled, his rebellious breath suddenly appeared, and then died in the sound of the piano.

Since then, the affair has lost contact with him, and Yingying's laughter has disappeared from him.

He is busy recruiting, fighting for power and profit, and killing each other. When he finally became the monarch of the State of Jing, he was in power and the soldiers were stronger than Ma Zhuang. The first thing he wanted to destroy was the State of Yan.

800 Li Fenmao Xia Shao. Fifty strings turn the plug.

His army approached all the way, with a rainbow of momentum. The Yan army lost ground and was defeated.

In a few days, all the princes fell. He ordered the three armed forces to ban slaughter, and those who did not obey the order would be beheaded!

Through the winding courtyard, he couldn't wait to fly to Xuanhe Palace with his wings on his back.

Yan's domestic palace was deserted, imperial secretary withered and fled, and there was chaos everywhere.

He couldn't hide his ecstasy, but he was worried that he would get lost and be displaced in the war.

The door of Xuanhe Palace was left unlocked. When he pushed the door, he saw the white at a glance.

He finally met him. Three years, six months and seven days have passed, so people who miss him are here at the moment.

He is still dressed in white, holding a piano, leaning against the window, dressed like a butterfly dancing in the wind, thousands of silver threads dancing. In a trance, he seems to be going with the wind and flying away from this desolate world.

"Third Prince ..." He called softly.

Looking back slowly and staring at him, he looked pale and desolate. When he saw him, his eyes were filled with deep pain.

"I have noticed your ambition, but I always want to use the piano to turn your Sha Qi, and I don't want to ... you still let Yan go extinct ... I also have unforgivable sins ..."

With that, he moved closer to the window lattice, and the wind rustled, more like it was going to sweep away his slender body.

He knew what he wanted and how to keep him, so he said coldly:

"If you die, the rest of the Yan will royal family will be put to death. Moreover, I will use the most cruel criminal law in the past to concoct them. Let them die a hundred times worse than you, a thousand times! "

His body was stiff in an instant, and it took him a long time to hear a faint sigh: "What did you miss me?"

"I want you." He replied firmly, "besides winning the whole world, what I want most is you!" " "

Under Leng Yue, he held out his hand to him, his eyes were as sharp and firm as an eagle, burning the ancient oath of hunting fire: "Give me your hand!" " "

His words cannot be refused.

And he was dazzled at that moment, and he couldn't escape from his grasp anyway.

Give in?

No, not giving in. He pursed his lips and put his trembling hand in his own.

At that moment, I felt that I had put my fate on the gambling table.

His hands, cool and thin, are as slender as white lotus, and they are a little bloody white.

He held it tightly.

Finally caught him. From now on, these hands only touch the piano for him, and this noble person belongs to him only.

At that time, he wanted to shout at the sky, and his joy was beyond words.

Colored glass lanterns, five-color mica screens, dense purple gauze curtains and rare ancient jade are famous in Mo Bao. ...

Whatever he can get, he will see it here.

His new mansion is decorated like Xuanhe Palace in the past, but it is also far more luxurious than Xuanhe Palace.

There are still clear water pools, pavilions and elegant houses in the courtyard, and there are still towering ancient phoenix trees planted, and you can still see the tragic and brilliant nirvana.

But, he knows. This is not Xuanhe Palace, and this is not Yan State.

Here, it is the dyed maple building-Jingguo Palace. And he was the third prince to die.

Even if everything remains the same, it still can't change the fact that he is a prisoner.

He trapped it with a beautiful and delicate cage. From then on, he was a bird with broken feathers and wings, singing for him day and night until he died.

He doesn't know whether he hates himself, his father and his country. Does he care?

He only saw that his expression was still dull, and his piano sounded so melodious, ethereal and clear as a mountain stream. It just seems far away from him, far away. Even if he listened attentively, he couldn't notice his mind.

Sleeping with him every night, I am shocked by his thinness every night. Under the thin seven-foot white silk, he is skinny and let him touch it.

Staring at him, the lotus-like face did not reveal the slightest likes and dislikes. Even if he lost his soul, he was as quiet as a virgin.

What do you think of him?

I hate it, so I will become haggard and thin. But why, every time I snuggle up, it is so soft and peaceful. Is it gentle like water flowing under the low eyebrows?

The more I can't see through him, the more upset I am.

He is afraid of losing him one day.

Late that night, he was about to return to the palace. He lit a lamp and walked him to the door.

The faint flickering light warmed his pale face.

Under the lamp, he stared at him for a long time, and his golden eyes annihilated the flame of the lamp.

It was a long time before he opened his lips slightly and said softly, "Be careful when you go back ..."

Then he lowered his eyes and turned back to his room.

And he, however, was too excited to let go for a long time.

Since he was exiled to the state of Jing, he seldom spoke, and now he is even more silent.

However, just now, in his eyes as clear as water and as bright as the moon, was there any concern for him flashing?

There is also the gentleness of bowing your head, like the shyness of water lilies, like a touch of affection.

Is everything just an illusion under the lamp?

When I left, I remembered all the way and was intoxicated by the wanderer.

Perhaps, he has a little love for himself, and it's not all hate.

Think of this, his lips can not help but raise a smile, irresistible tenderness flowing in his heart.

However, that night, he was almost assassinated by an assassin on his way back to the palace.

The next day, the palace was in uproar. The son of heaven was stabbed today

In the heavily guarded palace, there are assassins who can sneak into and assassinate the emperor. There was panic in the palace.

The assassin was quickly caught and confessed under torture.

-It was directed by Prince Yan San.

Hearing this, he felt as if he had been severely whipped with a whip, which was very painful.

It turned out that he hated him enough to be assassinated.

It never occurred to him that what he seemed to care about last night actually meant something.

All he got was his body.

He laughed wildly, and then cut off the assassin's head with his sword.

Blood, instantly splashed on his robe, blood, he twisted with pain, eyes as cold as iron.

You don't love me, I will never let you go!

That evening, he called courtiers and gave a banquet in Huayang Palace to celebrate the invasion of Wei.

He called him and asked him to play the piano for everyone.

He came as commanded, and he left his English in his arms. Under the white dress, the beautiful face is as thin as the residual snow under the moon, and the body is light and weak. Walking with my clothes on, I don't look like a living person. As if it were just a wisp of moon soul, it stayed on earth to fulfill its obsession.

He sat down and stroked the piano, which sounded far away, but he couldn't hide the whispering at the dinner party.

"It's very brave to hear that the prince who died in the country actually let people assassinate the emperor."

"How can the emperor not cure him?"

"Hum, I really don't know what tricks he used to charm the emperor. I said, leaving such traitors around will kill the emperor sooner or later. "

"Look at him, the king of a country, in order to save his life, he is just like a prostitute in a brothel. Is really mean ... "

"……"

Frequent cold reception was like a poisonous arrow, which pierced his heart and made him bleed profusely.

Biting his lip, he couldn't help shivering slightly, and his teeth bit out a blood stain on his lower lip because of too much force.

Looking up, high above the throne, he was cold and indifferent.

Looking at each other, I saw him, slowly, with a smile, cold and cruel.

His heart is cold, cold.

So, you suspect that I sent someone to assassinate you.

Huayang Palace brightly lit, suddenly became a shura hell, shaking all the ferocious faces, filled with the voice of the chief charm.

His face is as white as paper, and his body trembles like a candle in the wind.

If you don't believe me, fine.

I don't blame you if you want me dead.

But don't humiliate me like this.

At that time, he was so upset that the lyre was out of tune. When I was stirring, I heard a crunchy sound and the string broke.

It was horribly quiet all around, and he looked at his broken piano with a straight face.

"Is this the world's first Shougang piano sound?" It was his contemptuous voice that broke the silence and fell from the high throne.

As if he had been badly scratched, his face turned whiter.

Seeing his pain and injury, he felt a sense of revenge.

"get down!" He shouted.

He stood up slowly and picked up Luo Ying. He looked up at him again. For the first time, his deep eyes showed silent sadness.

He looked at him like a passerby.

I, for what, drag out an ignoble existence, don't you understand? I ...

He wanted to stop talking, and finally, a thousand words turned into a few inaudible sighs, falling like the first snow outside the window.

You don't believe me. You don't believe me.

Somehow, he couldn't bear to see his lonely back when he bowed his head and left.

At that moment, he had such an impulse to ask him to go back.

But the words came to my mouth, but they were suppressed by the injured self-esteem.

That night, it snowed in Jingzhou for a hundred years. Snowflakes are flying like dying butterflies, and pale bodies annihilate the whole of Huayang Palace.

And he just stood outside the palace, staring at the palace quietly, singing and dancing.

The night outside was very quiet and cold. Snow haze buried his hair, and the cold frostbitten his body. He didn't feel anything.

His eyes, only across the ice and snow, saw the palace lantern shaking red and saw him under the light, indulging in debauchery and depravity.

At night, it gradually darkened, but the two dark fires in his eyes, like self-immolated phoenix, ignited life, danced and danced, gradually dimmed in the ice and snow, and finally turned to ashes.

At that moment, his heart was dying.

The next morning, the imperial secretary who swept the snow found that there was a line of footprints stretching from Huayang Palace to the Dyed Maple Building, which was deep and shallow, crooked, some desolate and desperate, heartbroken and hesitant, and exposed to the sky.

From then on, his clear and melodious piano music was never heard in the dyed maple building. He didn't set foot in the dyed maple building again.

He finally fell ill on the day when he sent troops to attack Wei.

He attacked the city and plundered the land all the way, drifting away. He turned to the hospital bed like a frying pan.

He snapped his fingers and took the head thousands of miles away, laughing and flying out of the princes.

He was locked up in the phoenix building, and the beauty was dead.

His illness is getting worse and worse, and the medicine stone is incurable. He occasionally wakes up, holding Luo Ying, and carefully stroking the broken strings, looking thoughtful.

When his hand could no longer pluck the strings, he invited a famous pianist to continue playing broken strings.

On the night of his death, another high-pitched piano sound came from the maple-dyed building, and the scale soared and resounded through the sky, lingering in the sky for a long time.

Imperial secretaries who have heard him play the piano say that the piano of the Three Princes has never been so exciting, as if eager to tell something, one after another, a string, touching the world and making people cry.

Imperial secretary also saw that the ancient phoenix tree in the yard set itself on fire in the long piano sound and the white snow. Overnight, a tree turned red in silence. Wildflowers burst into flames, melted into tears in a blink of an eye and fell into the grave.

The glory and decline of life are only in an instant.

However, this time, it is no longer nirvana, and there will be no rebirth in the coming year. This is just despair, so I resolutely chose death, always true.

On the same night, thousands of miles away, he vaguely heard a melodious piano sound coming from the snow and ice, playing a desolate song-Jiangchengzi.

Ten years of life and death are two boundless, disapproving and unforgettable. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty. At night, I suddenly dreamed of going home, and the window of Xiao Xuan was being decorated. Care for each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears. It is expected that the heartbroken place will be broken every year, and the moonlit night will be short and rambling.

In a trance, he seems to be walking slowly in the snow and ice, still wearing white clothes and silver hair, still looking like Bai Lianhua, still a weak willow. On cloud nine like a fairy.

Walk up to him and look at him quietly, just like the night when the lights are red.

Then, he smiled and said, "I am … really … yours …"

The sudden snowstorm swallowed his words, but he clearly saw that his smile was like a flower in the snow.

In an instant, everything in the world seems to have faded, only his beautiful smile is so clear in the haze, and Ran Ran illuminates the gloomy world around him.

At that moment, his heart was sour and there were tears in his eyes.

He has never smiled at him. Since we met, we have never seen his beaming smile.

Now, he smiles at him, but he has the urge to cry.

"Third Prince ..." He couldn't help calling him, but he was surprised to see that he was swept away by crazy snow in an instant. ...

After waking up, he discovered that everything was just a dream. But that smile was so real that he couldn't forget the unforgettable pain in his dream.

Suddenly, he was tired of this endless exercise.

Once upon a time, he was so keen on the military career of Kingoma Railway, and he was ambitious to pacify the world.

He once thought that only the yellow sand on the battlefield could make his blood boil, and the beautiful scenery in the gentle village was just a meteor that had passed away in life.

When he betrayed him, he also made up his mind: since he can't get it, he must at least get the world!

However, at this moment, he wants to see him, just to see him.

He wants to listen to him play the falling English under the buttonwood again, and watch him keep his eyebrows down and close his eyes, as quiet as a lotus flower.

He also wants to say to a lofty person: it doesn't matter if you don't love me, as long as you are with me, that's enough. As long as I love you, that's enough.

Helpless, let the flowers fall, as if I had met Yan's return, and Xiaoyuan Xiangjing wandered alone.

Hongyan returned to the north again, unified the whole country and returned home in triumph.

Entering the imperial city, he couldn't help looking up at the towering wall and suddenly thought, well, this should be the tenth year since he met him.

He should be waiting for him in the dyed maple building. Maybe he is playing the piano under the tree at this time.

When the phoenix blooms, there must be a deep and shallow red beside him, and his fiddling posture should still be so elegant. His white clothes are still spotless, and he suddenly looks like a fairy. ...

He couldn't help laughing at the thought.

When he pushed open the door, he could already imagine the magnificent appearance of the burning phoenix wood, dazzling purple in the wind. however ...

Where are the flowers? Where are the flowers of a tree?

He was surprised to find that the phoenix tree in the yard was only bare branches, painfully deadlocked in the morning breeze in March.

No flowers, no Yan, because the phoenix is dead and no longer nirvana.

Dyed maple building greeted him in a quiet and peaceful atmosphere.

The windows in the building are bright and clean, and everything is the same as when he left.

His piano is where he often plays for him. The string continues all the time, as if waiting for him to come back at any time and play for him.

But, what about him? Where is he? Where have you been?

Outside the window, the homing swallows passed by, and the songs were crisp and melodious.

A terrible shadow hung over his heart.

"Someone-"His abrupt voice broke the silence around him, with a slight vibrato, revealing a sense of foreboding.

"Where did he go?"

"Your Majesty, His Royal Highness the Prince has died." Imperial secretary to report.

Suddenly, if he was struck by lightning, he was dizzy and could hardly hold on.

He's dead. He's dead. How is that possible?

Imperial secretary added, "Your Highness was buried on the way into the city. He said that if your majesty returns to Beijing after his success, he should be able to see ... "

Smell it, taboo.

Then, with a sad cry, he ran out. ...

The yellow sand is long and the road is rustling.

Not far from the city gate, he found a lonely grave.

Three feet away, between two square inches, that's where he buried his bones.

The grass on the grave was growing, and he pulled his hair and burst into tears.

Once, what he got, the touch of moonlight in his hand, is now just a cup of loess in front of him, with one hand desolate.

At that moment, he suddenly realized that he loved him too.

Therefore, the broken string of degraded English will continue.

Therefore, I am willing to be buried on the side of the road when he returns to the city.

Therefore, his soul will come from afar to say goodbye to him.

His love is deeper than his.

Stay by his side, be accused by ten thousand people, be reviled by all. He endured the hatred of killing his father and destroying the country alone, and even became emaciated and haggard.

Even so, he still loves him and loves him to death.

Today, his piano is still where he played for him; His men were buried on his way back; Where is his soul, and where will the moon soul rest in peace?

He doesn't know, he only knows a little, he lost him, this life, the world of mortals, can't find him anymore. ...

Time flies and the situation changes. Fame and fortune are fleeting. He had already seen through it and ignored it. However, the piano he left behind is still carefully collected. It has been in good condition for decades.

Every time the phoenix blooms, he always looks lost in thought and plays the piano in the dazzling red light like a flame. Plain clothes, with silver hair and golden eyes, seems bright, and the cold moon has fallen for nine days.

Whenever he turned on the light, he always remembered that he stared at him quietly for a long time under the light, and his deep eyes seemed to contain a touch of affection. Then, he whispered: Go back … Be careful …

He will never forget himself all his life.

However, this feeling has become a memory, and in retrospect, it has been disconsolate.

-End of full text-