Girls' feelings are always poetry photography.

Li Qingzhao, girlish feelings are always poems.

That spring afternoon, like a Koharu branch, she sneaked into the Li family of scholarly family. At that time, he was just a newborn baby. At that time, she was like the water in Mingshui Lake, clear and pure. Therefore, his father Li was named "Qingzhao".

His father, Li, was outstanding in literary talent and was accepted by Su Men. He is also one of the four bachelors after Su Men, and Li Qingzhao's mother is also well-read and virtuous. When Li Qingzhao began to learn English, she was influenced by Zhong Ling Yu Xiu, a scholar. At that time, it was the heyday of the Northern Song Dynasty. She may only know the beauty and richness of these poems, but she doesn't know that she will taste life and write different poems in the future.

Time flies, and Li Qingzhao has become a clever girl. Unlike most traditional women under the ancient feudal system, she was confined in the boudoir and worked as a lady. She likes to go out to play, spreading the vitality she should have at this age, and wrote such a poem "Like a Dream" with her lively pen.

I often think of dusk by the river.

As drunk as a fiddler, we didn't remember anything on the way back!

After having a good time, we rowed home.

Mistaken into the depths of the lotus,

Fight for the ferry,

Frightened, all the egrets in the shallows flew away.

At the moment, he is drunk and doesn't know where to go. He is boating in the lake. This also stems from his parents' broad vision. This sentence is beautiful and pure, and it is very clever. When I was a girl, there were not so many short-term loves. She was not familiar with the world, only smart.

And as a dream, she was sixteen, and I tried it for the first time.

Guess what? You know what?

It should be green, fat, red and thin.

17 years old is a sad age. He looks out the window at the withered begonia flowers and lush green leaves. Begonia will bloom again next year, but it will not return to what it was before 16. This year, my father, Li Yin, needed to leave Zhangqiu for Bianjing for promotion. Unlike Lin Daiyu, who became a stranger and was alone, he was accompanied by his parents, who loved him very much. He is curious about Bianjing and reluctant to part with his hometown, but he is with his family, so what is there to be afraid of?

Seeing the guests coming in, socks and golden hair slipped,

She ran away shyly and leaned against the door, smelling the fragrance of plum flowers.

Personally, I believe in what Buddhists call fate. Li Qingzhao met Zhao Mingcheng at her most beautiful moment. That day, there was a visitor. Under the plum tree in the yard, she quietly watched the people coming and guessed what it meant. Young Gao Fushuai, full of energy, seems to understand the meaning of "Li Guyou grew up with a daughter". The more I think about it, the more happy and shy I am. It is beyond words. A glance made him hide a Gao Fushuai teenager in his heart.

The name of Li Qingzhao's talented woman is also circulated in Bianjing. Zhao Mingcheng fell in love with Qingzhao as soon as he heard the words, but what he had to do was how to let the talented woman know his love and how to get his father to agree to this marriage. So under the guise of a dream, he asked his father to help him solve his doubts, and Tingzhi Zhao also understood his son's meaning. After analyzing the pros and cons, he agreed to his son's request.

When the two families get married, everything is ready except the east wind.

After the proposal, it was a few months in a blink of an eye, and it was another spring inadvertently. The excitement dissipated, and everything was like a dream. This moment is the best and most important moment in her life. After the wedding, the couple took the guest as their respect, and met on the first and fifteenth day of the first month of the first month. Their spirits were highly compatible and they studied epigraphy together.

At this time, Qingzhao is still immersed in the joy of her wedding, some intoxicated, some nostalgic, and perhaps no one can imagine the decline and bitterness she will bear after many years.

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