There was only a slight snoring on the boat, and the small square light hanging on the ceiling suddenly went out.

I sat up, pushed open the small window next to me and saw a gray light. I don't know

What time is it now and where the ship is parked. I seem to be still in the dream, the nightmare.

Press my head hard. My eyes are all red. I stick my head out of the window,

Outside the window, a light blue river lay quietly, and an ink painting rose in the distance.

Like a mountain shadow. I just looked at the water. My head surfaced. originally

It was a black shadow, and then a bright red covered it. I wiped my eyes, and then I

In the darkness, his head was reflected in the water. There is no light, and everything seems to be asleep. The sky appeared.

Very low. Some stars are especially bright. The water flowed slowly at the bottom of the boat. I held out my hand.

One hand reached into the water, which was quite cold. I looked around for a long time. These hours

Wait, the scene before us seems to have never moved; Only when the air gets cold,

Only occasionally lights up the red light, but when I concentrate on catching the red light, I only

See a pile of sleeping mountain shadows.

I put my head back into the cabin. It was dark inside, and the breath of a group of people rushed in.

Nose. It smells like a hand scratching my chest. I spat out of the window.

Gas, and then close the small window. Suddenly the friend next to me spoke loudly: "you!" "

Look, what a big fire! "I was surprised to see that friend, I can't see anything. friend

My friend was still sleeping, just moved, seemed to turn over, and then there was no sound at all.

No, either.

The hut is a dark world, with no light and no fire. But why do friends shout?

Watch the fire? Did he have the same dream as me? I want to wake him up and ask.

I see. I'll push his arm. He just snorted and turned to sleep on the other side.

The friend who sleeps next to him has been snoring. Snoring is not high or urgent, like sleeping.

Well played.

My eyes feel uncomfortable, my eyelids seem to be getting heavier and heavier, and it's a little uncomfortable to keep my eyes open.

He was tired and fell on the deck, intending to close his eyes and sleep. I just closed my eyes and suddenly began to listen.

See that friend shout out a word "fire"! I was taken aback again and held my breath and went down again.

Listen. His mouth shut again.

I leaned my head on the pillow and looked around the cabin, and my eyes gradually felt ashamed.

Darkness is familiar. I can see several shadows, and I can tell the colors of blankets and thread blankets.

The basket hanging at the stern swayed slightly in mid-air with the hull, just like a man in white.

People are watching there. The cabin is stuffy. Snoring grew louder and louder and was covered by the awning.

I can't flush it out. It seems to be piled up in the cabin. It's all over the cabin. They are difficult to get along with.

The smell pressed on me and made me breathless. I can't close my eyes and I don't want to.

It can calm your heart. I want to struggle. I started to turn my body and kept asking

It's no use turning left and right. I feel even more embarrassed and suffocated.

Then the same sound "fire" sounded in my ear again! My eyes are bright again.

A piece of red light. My friend slept soundly and didn't speak. This is my own.

Sound. The fire in my dream is still chasing me. I can't take it anymore. I immediately pushed open the quilt and ran away.

Go outside the cabin.

There is a man sleeping outside the hut. He seems to be asleep. My feet sound good.

Didn't break his dream. The boat floated on the calm water, and the water was sparkling.

Surrounded by pale ink mountains, it protects the river and two or three sleeping people like a screen.

Wooden boat.

I stood in the hatch. The river touched the bottom of the boat and kept whispering. burst out

A gust of wind blew head-on, and the canopy wept gently. I feel comfortable breathing.

Point. But with snoring, the word "fire" was issued in the cabin.

I was coldly silent for a moment. It was my own voice, in my own dream.

"fire"

It chased me for four years!

On the day when Shanghai fell four years ago, I once looked across the river at the fire on the other side.

I want to see the burning city of Rome. Houses were reduced to ashes, lives were destroyed and land was destroyed.

Be ravaged. At present, there is a boiling sea of fire. I've never seen such a big one.

The fire destroyed everything: life, hard work, wealth and hope. But it has nothing to do with me.

It doesn't matter that I live on burning land; Suffering person

Is my compatriot, my brother; What is ruined is my hope and my ideal. this

The ideal of a nation is suffering. I looked at the red light all over the sky, and I thought there was one

Cutting my heart with a knife reminds me of a famous saying of a western philosopher: "Better!"

The clock will arouse ten years of hatred and a lifetime of revenge. "I bullet, swear in my mind:

One day we must return to this place with our heads held high. We will build it on fire.

Out of the beautiful garden. When I left the river bank, I was swallowing tears, and I seemed to see it.

Phoenix reborn from the fire.

Four years. On the wooden boat coming back from Yangshuo tonight, I had that terrible fire again.

My dream, I saw the fire scene in Shanghai four years ago on the calm river. I haven't had it for four years.

I have never forgotten such a day, and there is not a time when I don't want to come back with my head held high.

That day. Is the day of victory near? Or my enthusiasm begins to fade,

Need fire to help it burn? The word "fire" that my friend read in his sleep is just one for me.

Warning or prophecy? ……

I looked back at the hut in fear. All my friends are asleep, and no one gives me one.

A reply. No sooner had I turned my head than I caught a glimpse of a bright shadow flying over my head.

Fly to the saddle-shaped hill ahead. This is the phoenix in the fire:

My eyes follow the visions in my mind. I think, I think of our suffering.

The land and the people were in trouble, and I laughed until tears came to my eyes. This moment seems everything.

A river, the whole sky and countless hills are illuminated.

1941came back from Yangshuo on September 22nd and wrote it in Guilin. live alone

A person is often alone, quietly in a corner of time, watching the eagle slap the sky, white clouds floating between the peaks and some colors flying. . . . . .

And cold palms make you feel that summer has receded and autumn is coming. At this time, you really want someone to accompany you, but you don't want to say what you think. After a long time, some ideas become stubborn, the same color as skin.

You prefer the night, listening to the sound of rain hitting bananas, dribs and drabs, smoke and cold water are far away.

Through the window latitude, you are looking for the darkest light.

A breeze brought sporadic rain, and all my thoughts were soaked.

It's beautiful when you are alone. You don't need to look over other people's shoulders to see the scenery.

You can easily think of the bridge, the shadow under the bridge and the wind blowing from the other side. At that time, you were as young as a tall grass. You have your own Yuan Ye, your own sky and your own rainbow. The convenience of the place where you run, stop and hurry has become the trouble of the world.

You heard the sound of strings that night, so the dream was wet and long. You are more like a fish that has lived for a long time. In the world of sand and stone, there are no clocks and walls.

Even father's scolding is applause. You want to get close to it, even if you hate it and want to run away from it. And how warm my mother's white hair is, like a sheep meekly bypassing a hill. Starlight is a whip that hits my heart, and it hurts and is poetic every time.

An irreparable heart is like bitter tea on the table, and every gap is squeezed into temperature.

Look up, cordate telosma brings a palpitation face, you know his lotus-like heart.

Many underwater sounds are far away, but ripples are on the face. If you are careful, you can tell some blushes.

In fact, the pain is not as great as the ideal. If you feel it, you will unconsciously lengthen it, so the scenery along the way will be full of thorns.

The thatch growing in the heart is much more lush than the thatch growing in front of the house. Cut more and more miscellaneous until there are no chapters.

So I'd rather believe in perfection at that moment and stop worrying. Why pursue the ideal feather wings and practice flying at a certain height? In fact, the water below is clearer, because it is close to the river bed and is squeezed and arranged neatly. There are even more aquatic plants to decorate some sweet and vivid worlds.

I often get some laughter, which was close to me at that time. Rules are human disgust. I will smile with malicious intent and put my blessing down coldly. But more often, I carry the martyrdom of three obedience and four virtues, and I constantly cherish this flag. If it falls, it is the collapse of life.

If wildness is my other side, it is not dark, it is colorful, and it is the prelude to all happiness in growing up. A life without passion is more like a history, which needs to be read carefully. If the flaw of the heart is embedded in its cracks, it will become pirated words. And I am ethereal, and I have created some modern crazy consciousness with indifference.

Counting the length of ten fingers, some notes fell. At this time, a mimosa just caught the dust on it and a window, and inadvertently leaked some lights. Then, suddenly the wind blew, and then the pouring rain quickly reached the ideal syllable.

live alone

A person is often alone, quietly in a corner of time, watching the eagle slap the sky, white clouds floating between the peaks and some colors flying. . . . . .

And cold palms make you feel that summer has receded and autumn is coming. At this time, you really want someone to accompany you, but you don't want to say what you think. After a long time, some ideas become stubborn, the same color as skin.

You prefer the night, listening to the sound of rain hitting bananas, dribs and drabs, smoke and cold water are far away.

Through the window latitude, you are looking for the darkest light.

A breeze brought sporadic rain, and all my thoughts were soaked.

It's beautiful when you are alone. You don't need to look over other people's shoulders to see the scenery.

You can easily think of the bridge, the shadow under the bridge and the wind blowing from the other side. At that time, you were as young as a tall grass. You have your own Yuan Ye, your own sky and your own rainbow. The convenience of the place where you run, stop and hurry has become the trouble of the world.

You heard the sound of strings that night, so the dream was wet and long. You are more like a fish that has lived for a long time. In the world of sand and stone, there are no clocks and walls.

Even father's scolding is applause. You want to get close to it, even if you hate it and want to run away from it. And how warm my mother's white hair is, like a sheep meekly bypassing a hill. Starlight is a whip that hits my heart, and it hurts and is poetic every time.

An irreparable heart is like bitter tea on the table, and every gap is squeezed into temperature.

Look up, cordate telosma brings a palpitation face, you know his lotus-like heart.

Many underwater sounds are far away, but ripples are on the face. If you are careful, you can tell some blushes.

In fact, the pain is not as great as the ideal. If you feel it, you will unconsciously lengthen it, so the scenery along the way will be full of thorns.

The thatch growing in the heart is much more lush than the thatch growing in front of the house. Cut more and more miscellaneous until there are no chapters.

So I'd rather believe in perfection at that moment and stop worrying. Why pursue the ideal feather wings and practice flying at a certain height? In fact, the water below is clearer, because it is close to the river bed and is squeezed and arranged neatly. There are even more aquatic plants to decorate some sweet and vivid worlds.

I often get some laughter, which was close to me at that time. Rules are human disgust. I will smile with malicious intent and put my blessing down coldly. But more often, I carry the martyrdom of three obedience and four virtues, and I constantly cherish this flag. If it falls, it is the collapse of life.

If wildness is my other side, it is not dark, it is colorful, and it is the prelude to all happiness in growing up. A life without passion is more like a history, which needs to be read carefully. If the flaw of the heart is embedded in its cracks, it will become pirated words. And I am ethereal, and I have created some modern crazy consciousness with indifference.

Counting the length of ten fingers, some notes fell. At this time, a mimosa just caught the dust on it and a window, and inadvertently leaked some lights. Then, suddenly the wind blew, and then the pouring rain quickly reached the ideal syllable.

live alone

A person is often alone, quietly in a corner of time, watching the eagle slap the sky, white clouds floating between the peaks and some colors flying. . . . . .

And cold palms make you feel that summer has receded and autumn is coming. At this time, you really want someone to accompany you, but you don't want to say what you think. After a long time, some ideas become stubborn, the same color as skin.

You prefer the night, listening to the sound of rain hitting bananas, dribs and drabs, smoke and cold water are far away.

Through the window latitude, you are looking for the darkest light.

A breeze brought sporadic rain, and all my thoughts were soaked.

It's beautiful when you are alone. You don't need to look over other people's shoulders to see the scenery.

You can easily think of the bridge, the shadow under the bridge and the wind blowing from the other side. At that time, you were as young as a tall grass. You have your own Yuan Ye, your own sky and your own rainbow. The convenience of the place where you run, stop and hurry has become the trouble of the world.

You heard the sound of strings that night, so the dream was wet and long. You are more like a fish that has lived for a long time. In the world of sand and stone, there are no clocks and walls.

Even father's scolding is applause. You want to get close to it, even if you hate it and want to run away from it. And how warm my mother's white hair is, like a sheep meekly bypassing a hill. Starlight is a whip that hits my heart, and it hurts and is poetic every time.

An irreparable heart is like bitter tea on the table, and every gap is squeezed into temperature.

Look up, cordate telosma brings a palpitation face, you know his lotus-like heart.

Many underwater sounds are far away, but ripples are on the face. If you are careful, you can tell some blushes.

In fact, the pain is not as great as the ideal. If you feel it, you will unconsciously lengthen it, so the scenery along the way will be full of thorns.

The thatch growing in the heart is much more lush than the thatch growing in front of the house. Cut more and more miscellaneous until there are no chapters.

So I'd rather believe in perfection at that moment and stop worrying. Why pursue the ideal feather wings and practice flying at a certain height? In fact, the water below is clearer, because it is close to the river bed and is squeezed and arranged neatly. There are even more aquatic plants to decorate some sweet and vivid worlds.

I often get some laughter, which was close to me at that time. Rules are human disgust. I will smile with malicious intent and put my blessing down coldly. But more often, I carry the martyrdom of three obedience and four virtues, and I constantly cherish this flag. If it falls, it is the collapse of life.

If wildness is my other side, it is not dark, it is colorful, and it is the prelude to all happiness in growing up. A life without passion is more like a history, which needs to be read carefully. If the flaw of the heart is embedded in its cracks, it will become pirated words. And I am ethereal, and I have created some modern crazy consciousness with indifference.

Counting the length of ten fingers, some notes fell. At this time, a mimosa just caught the dust on it and a window, and inadvertently leaked some lights. Then, suddenly the wind blew, and then the pouring rain quickly reached the ideal syllable.

live alone

A person is often alone, quietly in a corner of time, watching the eagle slap the sky, white clouds floating between the peaks and some colors flying. . . . . .

And cold palms make you feel that summer has receded and autumn is coming. At this time, you really want someone to accompany you, but you don't want to say what you think. After a long time, some ideas become stubborn, the same color as skin.

You prefer the night, listening to the sound of rain hitting bananas, dribs and drabs, smoke and cold water are far away.

Through the window latitude, you are looking for the darkest light.

A breeze brought sporadic rain, and all my thoughts were soaked.

It's beautiful when you are alone. You don't need to look over other people's shoulders to see the scenery.

You can easily think of the bridge, the shadow under the bridge and the wind blowing from the other side. At that time, you were as young as a tall grass. You have your own Yuan Ye, your own sky and your own rainbow. The convenience of the place where you run, stop and hurry has become the trouble of the world.

You heard the sound of strings that night, so the dream was wet and long. You are more like a fish that has lived for a long time. In the world of sand and stone, there are no clocks and walls.

Even father's scolding is applause. You want to get close to it, even if you hate it and want to run away from it. And how warm my mother's white hair is, like a sheep meekly bypassing a hill. Starlight is a whip that hits my heart, and it hurts and is poetic every time.

An irreparable heart is like bitter tea on the table, and every gap is squeezed into temperature.

Look up, cordate telosma brings a palpitation face, you know his lotus-like heart.

Many underwater sounds are far away, but ripples are on the face. If you are careful, you can tell some blushes.

In fact, the pain is not as great as the ideal. If you feel it, you will unconsciously lengthen it, so the scenery along the way will be full of thorns.

The thatch growing in the heart is much more lush than the thatch growing in front of the house. Cut more and more miscellaneous until there are no chapters.

So I'd rather believe in perfection at that moment and stop worrying. Why pursue the ideal feather wings and practice flying at a certain height? In fact, the water below is clearer, because it is close to the river bed and is squeezed and arranged neatly. There are even more aquatic plants to decorate some sweet and vivid worlds.

I often get some laughter, which was close to me at that time. Rules are human disgust. I will smile with malicious intent and put my blessing down coldly. But more often, I carry the martyrdom of three obedience and four virtues, and I constantly cherish this flag. If it falls, it is the collapse of life.

If wildness is my other side, it is not dark, it is colorful, and it is the prelude to all happiness in growing up. A life without passion is more like a history, which needs to be read carefully. If the flaw of the heart is embedded in its cracks, it will become pirated words. And I am ethereal, and I have created some modern crazy consciousness with indifference.

Counting the length of ten fingers, some notes fell. At this time, a mimosa just caught the dust on it and a window, and inadvertently leaked some lights. Then, suddenly the wind blew, and then the pouring rain quickly reached the ideal syllable.

live alone

A person is often alone, quietly in a corner of time, watching the eagle slap the sky, white clouds floating between the peaks and some colors flying. . . . . .

And cold palms make you feel that summer has receded and autumn is coming. At this time, you really want someone to accompany you, but you don't want to say what you think. After a long time, some ideas become stubborn, the same color as skin.

You prefer the night, listening to the sound of rain hitting bananas, dribs and drabs, smoke and cold water are far away.

Through the window latitude, you are looking for the darkest light.

A breeze brought sporadic rain, and all my thoughts were soaked.

It's beautiful when you are alone. You don't need to look over other people's shoulders to see the scenery.

You can easily think of the bridge, the shadow under the bridge and the wind blowing from the other side. At that time, you were as young as a tall grass. You have your own Yuan Ye, your own sky and your own rainbow. The convenience of the place where you run, stop and hurry has become the trouble of the world.

You heard the sound of strings that night, so the dream was wet and long. You are more like a fish that has lived for a long time. In the world of sand and stone, there are no clocks and walls.

Even father's scolding is applause. You want to get close to it, even if you hate it and want to run away from it. And how warm my mother's white hair is, like a sheep meekly bypassing a hill. Starlight is a whip that hits my heart, and it hurts and is poetic every time.

An irreparable heart is like bitter tea on the table, and every gap is squeezed into temperature.

Look up, cordate telosma brings a palpitation face, you know his lotus-like heart.

Many underwater sounds are far away, but ripples are on the face. If you are careful, you can tell some blushes.

In fact, the pain is not as great as the ideal. If you feel it, you will unconsciously lengthen it, so the scenery along the way will be full of thorns.

The thatch growing in the heart is much more lush than the thatch growing in front of the house. Cut more and more miscellaneous until there are no chapters.

So I'd rather believe in perfection at that moment and stop worrying. Why pursue the ideal feather wings and practice flying at a certain height? In fact, the water below is clearer, because it is close to the river bed and is squeezed and arranged neatly. There are even more aquatic plants to decorate some sweet and vivid worlds.

I often get some laughter, which was close to me at that time. Rules are human disgust. I will smile with malicious intent and put my blessing down coldly. But more often, I carry the martyrdom of three obedience and four virtues, and I constantly cherish this flag. If it falls, it is the collapse of life.

If wildness is my other side, it is not dark, it is colorful, and it is the prelude to all happiness in growing up. A life without passion is more like a history, which needs to be read carefully. If the flaw of the heart is embedded in its cracks, it will become pirated words. And I am ethereal, and I have created some modern crazy consciousness with indifference.

Counting the length of ten fingers, some notes fell. At this time, a mimosa just caught the dust on it and a window, and inadvertently leaked some lights. Then, suddenly the wind blew, and then the pouring rain quickly reached the ideal syllable.