From then on, he decided to learn the flute, and now his skills are considered to be superb, but after he finished learning, he seldom played again.
Only on days like this, he would go up the mountain and play a song to that person.
A song of autumn frost.
No matter how I learn it, this is the only song that is extremely boring.
He knew it was because of some emotion in his heart.
He still remembered the first time he saw that person. It was this piece of music. The sound of the flute passed through thousands of houses and flew for several miles. He followed the sound of the flute and passed through layers of woods and patches of green shade before he saw the person.
Looking up at the top of the mountain, you can see how powerful it is. Beautiful cyan, beautiful flute sound, beautiful people.
Nowadays, he is still wandering alone in the rivers and lakes, and occasionally he will stare at the flute that is always with him. It is a jade flute that he made by himself and looks like clouds.
The man said that he was not Xie Yunxi, but Shen Chiqing, so he imitated Yunxi's font and engraved these two characters.
Late Qing.
It was as if that person was still beside him.
He said, Nanshan, I still like you very much and such a beautiful world, so you must see more of it for me.
"Look, I'm here again."
He opened a brocade box buried under a mound on the top of the mountain. Inside was a jade flute broken into two pieces.
He took out an almost identical flute from his waist, held it to his mouth, and quietly played a familiar melody against the broken flute.
The light green wheat grass is swaying gently with the breeze on the top of the mountain.
Except for Qiu Shuang's only song, no one's voice has touched my heart again.
And this is already the fifth year since Shen Zhunian passed away.