Reading Rain City, Rain City Love

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　　Yucheng Lian

　　Author: Fang Zhongxian

　　As soon as the car passed through Zizigang and heard the sound of drizzle, it saw the rainy city of Ya 'an.

　　Seeing her, your favorite, lingering drizzle, wet the ancient city wall, what is indelible is your old elegance, leaving antique memories in your heart, which is your out-and-out temperament.

　　Your name is Ya 'an, you are as beautiful as a flower, like a snow lotus, your voice is sweet and moist, a love song named "Love in a Rain City", and your character is simple and wild, and your manners are elegant and elegant. I often use the finishing touch pen, but it is difficult to describe your face. Have another cup of Mengding Mountain fragrant tea and slowly find the shadow of your season.

　　Spring is tender and misty.

　　There have just been a few spring rains, and many flowers are in bloom. Standing on the banks of the Tsing Yi River, I seem to see a woman like Zhilan walking gracefully and with great taste. She is Ya 'an, who is beautiful in national colors and temperament. More time, she is more like a kind mother, trying to nourish the people here.

　　Walking on the country road, people in the village began to plow, sow and transplant rice; Farmers wearing straw hats are everywhere, and children are chasing on the ridge. The memory of Ya 'an is not only the scenery, customs and human feelings, but also the temperament embedded in the bone marrow during the growth process. From childhood to youth, every frame is a beautiful poem. Growth will never stop, and poetry will never grow old. The sound of those steps from immature to firm is still hit the floor and reverberates for a long time.

　　Xia night is still young is a guest.

　　In the memory of everyone who has been to Ya 'an, there is a long fish-Yahu, which looks like lithium, scales as thin as trout, tastes smooth, has tender meat and is rich in nutrition.

　　The long fish cut by the chef rolled in the oil pan. With the perfect fusion of fire and ingredients, the long fish gradually gave off a tangy smell and its color gradually became crystal clear. Cooked soft-pocked long fish has a bright back, mellow texture, smooth and tender taste, and is known as a must in China.

　　Traveling abroad, every time I go home, I will always be in a trance when I eat this casserole fish: fishing alone on the Zhougong River, with ice crystals as bait and the breeze as the line. The water finally stood still, but the past across the bank had already aged inch by inch, echoing in the ancient fishing songs.

　　May is beautiful. On both sides of Qingyi River, flowers are in full bloom and trees are lush. The whole city is immersed in the fragrance of flowers. The sky is blue and there are no clouds in Wan Li. The wind is blowing gently and the branches of willow trees are swaying with the wind. On such a day, how can people not forget to return? Does this fisherman, who is known as the throat of western Sichuan, the gateway to Tibet and the national corridor, remember each other? In the long years, the passage of time is recorded, and the summer is gorgeous.

　　Miss Ye in Qiuyang's hometown

　　A leaf of homesickness, accompanied by leaves falling in late autumn, sprinkled on the night in the middle of nowhere.

　　After an autumn rain in Yucheng, Ginkgo biloba, the most conspicuous street tree in autumn, stood at Niukou, next to Jinchuan Mountain in Yucheng District, Ya 'an, and fell leaves, like golden butterflies, fluttering in the air, one by one, weaving into a golden carpet. Looking up at the mountain, the green forest is hidden in the vast smoke, the clouds are lingering, the morning sun is curling, and the green hills are full of flowers. I walked on the shore with Xiaomei and played a wonderful movement with the fallen leaves.

　　Mid-Autumn Festival, full moon, the night is still exceptionally bright, as always. When autumn is cool, I sit alone in a rocking chair in a teahouse on the shore, enjoying the moon. While recalling the days when Xiaomei was admitted to Chinese opera that year, she came back. On the log coffee table beside me that night, there was a fat red crab on a white porcelain plate, eight moon cakes from Huang Chengcheng and a pot of fresh sweet dew from Mengxiang Mountain in a small dish, and brown tea swam around, which inspired our feelings.

　　We talked more and more, and the tea in the pot became stronger and stronger. We indulged in this vague sense of happiness and reunited with my beloved until her parents called us several times to wake us up. That night at Xiaomei's house, the food was full of tables, the lights were scattered, and the room was warm and harmonious. The happiness of this world is vivid until now.

　　After dinner, Xiaomei took me to the covered bridge to enjoy the moon, and then looked at the moonlight. The moon in the river was still as soft as water.

　　In this way, soak in the moonlight, rub in the frog's voice, smoke in the tea, dry in the autumn wind, rinse in the snow ...

　　The winter solstice brings forth the sun and spring comes again.

　　It's yellow, the cold pool is thinner, and the sky is higher ... The plants bow their heads and meditate in the cold wind; Concentrate on the mountains and rivers and meditate in the snow. Snowflakes fall quietly, time accumulates quietly, beauty her. ........

　　The night is the spilled thick ink, which dyed the Qingyi River black. People's hearts are no longer bright in the daytime, some are gloomy, and some are clear. Winter in Ya 'an is the feeling of day if night. When it is snowing heavily, it is only suitable to savor your thoughts slowly with hot tea, and the more you drink it, the more bitter it becomes. The writer and friend Hiroko comforted me and said, "You and Xiaomei will come through thick and thin." As the snow sinks into the deepest part of time. In quiet time, I wait for winter after winter.

　　This is the dividing line between China's warm temperate zone and subtropical zone, and it will be spring as soon as winter is over. There is no cold winter, only vigorous vitality. The edge of the grass is not a dike, but that field is covered with golden rape flowers, and after yesterday's rain washing, it gives off a fresh feeling. Is that the smell of grass? But like a new student, golden yellow shines. At this time, Xiaomei flew at me singing her gold-winning "Love in a Rain City" from rape blossoms. ......

　　▌ Audio recitation: Ma Chang (internship)

　　▌ Editor: Wang Hefei

　　▌ Audit: Xu Zhaohong

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