* * * Listen to where the time pillow sleeps.

The world of mortals is mixed with too much love and hate. Looking back on the old days, I feel that I have entered Zhang Hui's novels. "Don't be happy with things, don't be sad with yourself." In the flow of time, with a poetic fragrance, holding a quiet, with the long years together through the Millennium. -Inscription

After listening to it once, I always feel that this sentence is beautiful. Just a few words, like a stroke of genius, bring out many intriguing things in the silent place. Watching time flow between the lines, quietly coming and going, the sense of certainty and comfort stretches out in my heart, which is extremely beautiful.

Indulge in the artistic conception created by words, follow the delicate strokes of words from shallow to deep, savor and ponder carefully, and how many fragrant seeds have been sown on the path of time? How many fascinating feelings are interspersed behind that calm and serene?

I remember reading this sentence for the first time on a silent cold night. It was raining in Mao Mao at that time. I sat on the sofa by the window, sipping tea and listening to the rain. At night, it was quiet, only the rain rustled on the leaves, rendering a room of silence. Pick up a magazine from the coffee table and read it. On the title page of the book, this profound introduction caught my attention. After reading it carefully, the exquisite words keep pounding my soul. Inside, there is a trace touched by time, which spreads on this rainy night. ...

Think of that time back to Xitang, an ancient town. The grass grows and catkins fly. Walking through the picturesque ancient town, a string of red lanterns hung on the Ming and Qing buildings with white walls and Daiwa, and apricot wine flags floated in the teahouse where people lived by the river. The deep fragrance reminds people of the lilac girl floating by with an oil-paper umbrella. The courtyard is deep, and the young lady's maid has already disappeared in front of the boudoir of the carved beam and painted building. Only the swing swings alone in the wind, and time goes by.

Walking along the famous misty and rainy corridor, I was deeply moved by the sound of paddles cutting through the tranquility of a river. Imagine that when the rain falls all over the river, pedestrians and businessmen are walking happily under the verandah, those literati must be busy cooking wine and chanting poems in the rain. The river is winding, and the river ports echoing back and forth can be seen everywhere. The stone bridges and smooth stone roads in the ancient town tell people the story of time. Time, stretching history, has passed thousands of years.

I remember that time when I went back to Shenyuan Garden, I lingered in this famous Southern Song Garden. The pavilions, bridges and flowing water all reminded me of my feelings, and one picture after another changed in my mind. "Red crisp hands, yellow rice wine, spring willows all over the city", the plain tone of hairpin phoenix is still in my ear, but I can't find those two people who have been obsessed with love all my life in Nuoda Garden, leaving only endless thoughts and beautiful poems in this lovesick city.

"The setting sun on the city draws a corner to mourn, and Shen Yuan is not a reunion pool. Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo. " Lu You and Tang Wan, with a lifetime of dedication, guard the love in their hearts. Although this love is so bitter, it is so sweet. They explained the legend of love with persistence, poeticized the eternity of love with heart, and explained the true meaning of love with sincerity: when you can no longer have each other, what you can do is not to forget yourself. Time, guarding love, never grows old.

I remember last winter, sitting in the Xianghu hydrophilic pavilion, enjoying the caress of the wind. Although it is the middle of winter, the sunshine is surprisingly warm, the sky is blue, and wintersweet tree, not far from me, is quietly emitting fragrance. Sleeping with a lake of clear water, it is getting better and better. I can't help but think of those days in my life that have gone away, as if I heard the passage of time.

I remember that year, my favorite people came from all over the country, and I once swam with this kind of scenery. I remember that the scenic spot was undeveloped at that time, just a wetland full of wild interest. Now that decades have passed, the scenic spot has already become a tourist attraction with lakes and mountains and miles of beautiful scenery. At that time, I thought all the comings and goings should be locked with each other, but time, with deep regret, no longer stays for anyone.

Time is long, and no youth can change the vicissitudes of life. Silently, the night has faded. Tonight, with this piece of music, I once again remembered the sentence that touched my heart. In the long river of history, time flies, and many things have long been buried in the dust of years. And I always believe that after years of baptism, filtering out unbearable impurities and accumulating in the depths of time must be the most cherished thing.

Listening to time, sleeping in the pillow. So tonight, let me give up all my troubles, indulge in the time like water, with the fragrance of memory, hold a quiet in my arms, and sleep with the light of long years.