Crows send the sun and the wind returns to Ye Ping.

I stepped on the ice of the sunset, and the empty and poor alley was in a daze in the wind.

A few flutes next door, which are better than Liao Liang's, linger in my ears. Just like when we traveled together. At this time, I am immersed in the winter dusk, which is particularly sad.

Where are the old friends?

I looked around, and only the wind passed through the cloister, bleak and gone.

We were in this room at that time, and we discussed with each other. He wrote the theory of keeping in good health, and I refuted the theory of keeping in good health. I smiled at the way he defended his views. In the end, we didn't take part in the competition. We all make sake in cups. During the bamboo forest tour, we like to lie quietly in the forest. Sometimes the heir will sing a long song, while the uncle will fiddle with the piano at night. To be quiet and subtle, keep mysterious and embrace one; It will be like the change of everything in Zhuang Zhou, and it will be released through the hole. At that time, all the floating world was outside the bamboo forest. We were free and easy at that time, so free and easy.

But now that the old house is empty and the old man is gone, who will mention the old things?

Later, after the Gaopingling incident, Juyuan and Heizong were forced to take office, and the bamboo forest tour finally disappeared. My uncle and I looked at all this at night, and our hearts were already heartbroken, but we were helpless. I still remember the night Juyuan left us, and my uncle was drunk at night. "In the next period, they are all gone. Will you be like them? "

"No, I won't." I listened to the desolation in his words and my throat tightened.

After hearing what I said, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief: "There is you at last."

That night, I touched the wine and got drunk again.

A bosom friend is rare in life, uncle. How can I abandon you?

I fought him while the iron was hot in Luoyang East, and sparks flew everywhere. I summoned the burning flame and flapped with him like no one was watching. When I look at him, I always feel that what is forged in that furnace is his backbone that never seems to bend. Who knows, one day, Zhong will come to visit, and I know Uncle Ye won't pay attention to him. Sure enough, just saying "what I heard came, what I saw left" let the clock go gracefully. I felt uneasy when I saw Zhong Hui's bitter eyes.

Sima refused to let Uncle Ye go. Perhaps, in this era, there is no room for a head that refuses to bow. Watching my uncle avoid Hedong at night. Watching him drift away, his back was straight and not bent. I know that uncle can return to glory at night and endure loneliness, but he will never forget the world. He resented Sima's despicable seizure of power and felt aggrieved at Sima's bullying. He couldn't sleep well because he couldn't fulfill his ideal, and he was disappointed and angry. My heart, like him, is struggling in hot water. I returned to Luoyang for him, and I was afraid to join imperial academy. He refused Sima, and he broke up with Juyuan. Everything he does is like a knife in Sima's heart. The price is his life. I'm afraid that if I wake up one day, it will be forever.

But I can't stop everything, I can only hold back my tears and watch Uncle Ye fade away.

With the help of a villain's scandal, Uncle Sima Yeshu was pushed to the abyss by extremely despicable means.

That day, the sun hit the pale evocation coffin, and my eyes stung. I watched him look around at the shadow of the sun and play the piano until he died forever.

The piano sounded in my heart, and Guangling became a swan song.

In those days, I looked at the fragmented bamboo forest and tore my heart out.

I am always forced to apply for Luoyang by Sima's pressure. I saw the joy of conquest in Si Mazhao's eyes, and I also saw the faith that was hidden by me forever.

The vagaries of current affairs have buried the passion of my close friends and many celebrities.

Taoist thought that our human freedom, countless clank of iron bones, which we had been struggling to protect at the beginning, dispersed with the last touch of string sound of Uncle Ye.

Since then, Guangling has been a song that no one can match.

The wind came late, and the songs complained again. Is it dead? The sound of the flute is at arm's length, as if continuing the peerless sound of that year.

The starting carriage urged me to go away gradually. Looking back, my eyes were hazy.

The blue tiles are still there,

Like a mountain and a river.