About This Novel
The wind from the Bund stirred my long hair. I leaned on the railing, looking at the illuminated river surface, and remembered that evening in Qifengpo, when Haiyinzi innocently and happily described her ideal: I want to buy a big house, I want to buy dozens of tea sets, and I drink tea every day. I joked: One cup is for tasting, two cups is for quenching thirst, and three cups is for donkey drinking water. She rushed forward with her teeth and claws bared, and two sixteen-year-old girls laughed and wrestled together under the locust tree. Several years later, when I finally settled down in a corner of a strange city, carefully brewed a cup of Qifeng tea, and sipped it slowly, I would think of the legend on Qifeng Slope that was passed down by word of mouth but could not be verified. I believe this is true. I turned on the computer and typed out the description word by word, sparing no words or ink: When the spring is warm and the flowers are blooming, there is a phoenix coming to the Qifeng Slope. The king of birds lives up to his reputation. Its body is noble and its whole body is colorful. It flies high into the sky and then goes straight into the clouds. Its cry resounds throughout the sky...
What Readers Think
Rating
Community(0)
Rating
Community(0)
