The old man sighed and pierced the silent day.
"The mask is not dead!"
Ye Lingfeng is in front of Miss Cen.
Miss cen bowed her head and wrote something without looking up.
"But dying!"
Ye Lingfeng continued
This time, Miss Cen’s hand trembled and copied the handwriting, and the pen was collected indiscriminately, and a good word was destroyed without stopping.
"I told him to die!"
It seems that Miss Cen doesn’t seem to care about Ye Lingfeng and added!
"Can’t you wait until I finish writing?"
Tone slightly angry.
"angry with me or angry with me!"
Gently put the pen cen girl sighed and said
"You shouldn’t have come to me to say goodbye, should you?"
Ye Lingfeng one leng moreover ran a smile "say yes, they will wait for someone to say goodbye but you! I can do this too! "
"Really?"
Miss cen gently spread another piece of paper.
"What’s wrong with the mask? You must be so tired that he has suffered himself! "
"What’s wrong with flow frost princess? You will do this to her again and hurt yourself! "
Ye Lingfeng is speechless. Miss Cen’s tit-for-tat remarks are indeed a solution to Ye Lingfeng’s problem, but she can’t find the answer to this question, or Ye Lingfeng knows the answer but doesn’t want to believe it.
"Let’s go and take care of this place!"
Go ahead, Ye Lingfeng turned around. He knew that when Miss Yi Cen came in, the paper handwriting had said everything.
The bridge shadow flows, the rainbow lake light reflects the snow, the green curtain does not roll, and the spring is one inch deep. The heartbroken person is in the shade of the building, and the car is not moving. It’s the hardest thing to stop leaning over the carved aperture and dream about Luo Zhou.
Once again, the peach blossom is still full of love and fear, and I hope that the grass on the long beach will be red and sad, and it will be hard to find two places.
In this word, it is a story. One of them passed a tea house on the way to Beijing. The tea house was a farmer on the roadside, and the person in charge of making tea was a farmer girl.
How nice it would be to stay at this moment if the women who hold tea and make tea here fell in love with each other at first sight, so two people were left everywhere by the village bridge and rice field!
But after all, the woman who cooks tea will continue to work day after day, and maybe she will get married soon. The two are destined to be predestined.
Later, the peasant tea-making girl, who was promoted to high school, was buried in the depths of her memory like those days of studying hard at a cold window.
It was not until many years later that I woke up at night and dreamed that it was the early spring of that year that two people swam around the flowers hand in hand.
How many years of pent-up feelings broke out in an instant and rushed back to the village overnight.
But the tea shed is long gone.
After many inquiries, I finally found the woman who cooked tea that year.
Time is not young at first, but the tea-maker is seriously ill.
From the old man, I learned that the tea-maker had never been married in her life, and she seemed to be waiting for something. Isn’t her waiting as dreamy and happy as that bubble?
When the door was lifted and pushed by the wind, it seemed as if it were about to break down. The darkness in the room stung his eyes and a heartfelt pain flooded his heart.
As if she felt something in her heart, the seriously ill tea-maker suddenly got up and stared at the once familiar but dreamy face, then opened her mouth to say something.
I wanted to hold the tea maker in my arms before taking a step, but just as the two hands were about to touch, the wooden door fell and the tea maker’s hand hung down forever.
At a glance, it will be forever.
Some people say that the tea maker should have died a long time ago, but it was this breath that kept her from seeing the person who missed her so much, but she was still unwilling to see it now and went.
It is also said that Jincheng’s stone is actually that the tea maker has long died. Holding that dream is the soul of the tea maker. Looking at what he held, the tea maker swallowed her last breath.
However, what others say is no longer important.
After burying the tea maker, ten thousand people chose to retire to the mountains.
Familiar with the snow scene of bamboo bridge, peony flowers are facing the wind and sunset, but there is no one around to accompany them
At the moment, the mask and Miss Cen will soon be as elusive as the girl who lifts and cooks tea in the story.
In the story, Ye Lingfeng knows that this person is famous even in the friar world.