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The swallow is gone. Where exactly the swallows went, I still don't know. It was Brother Yanzi who called me to tell me the news. I immediately rushed to Yanzi's home. Her parents were sitting in the dark and small main room, watching me walk in with indifferent faces. I asked Yanzi if she was really gone? But they asked me almost in unison, where is she? It seemed that I had run away with their daughter. Yanzi's brother is more reasonable and knows that it has not been easy for me to love his sister all these years. I was very sad when his sister left. He walked out of the room and said to his parents, "Don't make it difficult for Agui. Yanzi is gone, and Agui is even more anxious than us!" Then he pulled me out of the main room and walked to the shabby kitchen outside. As if he had some secret, he told me, "Go back. If you stay here, they will still say you are not. Don't forget to tell me any news about my sister in the future." He thought his sister would contact me soon.

I was only 9 years old when I first saw them. In order to complete an essay for my teacher, I asked my father to take me to visit the orphanage. I stood at the door with a doll in my arms, glancing evasively at the dazzlingly white children sitting deep in the room. For a long time, I didn't even think about the fact that I had originally brought them the doll. My composition was as beautiful as ever, and without any suspense, the teacher took it and read it to the class. The students were unusually quiet that day, and the teacher's voice floated very lonely over the classroom. As always - in the teacher's solemn and joyful voice, I strongly suspected that what he read was not the composition I wrote.

When Nursery Rhymes arrived at Miyun Station, the sky was clear and the wind carried the rich fragrance of leaves. After buying a glass of water at a small tea shop, she began to inquire about the small village called Huangtu Bandier, but of course to no avail. Because the village was too small, Tongyao decided to walk there. And she had indeed forgotten how to get out of the criss-crossed streets. She began to feel anxious, and bubbles would appear at the corners of her mouth when she was anxious. She licked her lips, and sure enough, a blister formed, which intensified her inner anxiety. Yes, tomorrow, they agreed to meet tomorrow, on the loess land. She should be a woman with a beautiful and flawless face - she could not tolerate herself meeting her loved ones in such an image. Surrounded by unfamiliar Beijing accents, mellow and tough, she, a Suzhou woman, suddenly fell into a state of panic.

I had to postpone my wedding date again. This decision was not an impulsive one but the result of careful consideration. The last time I postponed my wedding was three years ago, it was because of what one of my friends, Mitani, said, "Marriage is the fucking grave of love." I believed it at the time. To be more precise, it was my beautiful expectations for love that made me fearful of marriage. This time, it was because he was in prison. I don't know what the relationship between my life-long event and this friend is, but I still secretly decided like this. Of course, this decision has not yet been told to my fiancée Yang Lamb, or even to my parents. Maybe, I'm really crazy! It's April now, less than a month before our scheduled wedding date on May Day.

The wolf was lying on the fence on the street. It was still dark, and the small town was wrapped in thick fog and slept soundly. The wolf stared at a certain place in the sky in trance, until a silvery crack opened in the solid clouds. The crack was like lightning and was beating uneasily, as if he wanted to say something to the wolf. The wolf stared at it infatuatedly, waiting for it to speak, just like squatting in front of the monkey's grave waiting for the monkey to come out. But the wolf's waiting was often in vain, and he said nothing, even if the wolf waited until his neck was straight and tears were streaming. The wolf understands things on the street better, especially the thoughts of the garbage discarded on the street overnight. Although they don't speak, the wolf understands them like it understands its big tail in its overalls. At this time of day, everything will wake up, but the wind will have to sleep for a while.

What if life disappears and can be converted into another form of life? What if there are really messengers of God who come to the world to comfort restless souls? On a snowy night, I was surrounded by patients' family members and children with minor illnesses at the consultation table, handling emergency patients. A nurse shouted three times to ask me to answer Dr. Yao's call. Dr. Yao is my husband Yao Ge, and colleagues all know him as a breast surgeon at the cancer hospital. When the family members of the children outside the door saw me leaving, they cursed and became angry. I rushed out of the swarming crowd and went to the triage area of ​​the nurse station to answer the call. It was difficult to hear clearly what Yao Ge was saying in the noisy background. I told him to speak louder and blamed him for not using his cell phone. There were too many patients and I couldn't finish them all at dawn.

In terms of seniority, I have to call Xian'er brother. I admire Xian'er, he can do it. Xian'er is handsome. The square face is red, the nose is high and straight, the teeth are white, the small parted hair is dark, and the bean eyes are long, and they squint when she smiles. They are beautiful. Girls love to see him smile. In particular, there was a young and beautiful actress from the County Shanglu Troupe. The first time she met Xian Er, she kept staring at Xian Er. I am not as good as Xian'er. I can't. Although I'm not ugly, I have pretty good facial features. Although my nose is a nose and my eyes are eyes, I have one fatal flaw: I'm too short and my body is too light! Girls don't like me. They just glance at me and turn their heads to the side, twisting their necks into twists. Xian'er has a sweet mouth.

I haven't seen my father for a long time. Still make the greeting phone call. Every time I called him, my father never asked me to visit him. Even if I asked him to visit him, my father would always say, "Your brother is here" and hung up the phone. Despite this, I still call my father and go to his place often. I knew this was just a pretense, to let the neighbors know that the second of my father's twin sons was not an unfilial son. When I was little, I didn't know that after our twins were born, my father favored the eldest brother, my brother. Later, several neighbors said, "Second brother, don't you think your father often favors your eldest son?" The neighbors talked too much, and I felt strange. I went to ask my father in ignorance, but my father glared and said, "Which bastard said that?" I was scared.

Crops grow on the fields, as well as tombs; ancestors are buried in the tombs, and stories are buried... Under night, the tomb on the south slope was dug. The cuckoos sang, and the awns were planted. In three to five days, it will be time to start harvesting wheat. Those who talk about cuckoos chirping and awns growing are all those old men who are like antiques. Under the old locust tree at the entrance of Nancun, a toothless man said that the cuckoos crow earlier this year than last year, and the wheat ripens earlier. A toothless person said that this year's awns were planted later than last year, and the wheat ripened later. Toothless said again, hey, look at the fireworks platform, the wheat is all yellow. He said without teeth, "Look, the wheat in Xidian is still green." Further down, one person, one person, another person, repeated Cheluolun's words over and over again. It seemed that whoever insisted on speaking to the end would have authority in his words.

Gao Xiaosheng and the talented and fierce saint Lin Zhao are Lin Jinlan's classmates. Which school? Jiangsu Journalism College. This school in Wuxi was a popular "cadre school" at the time and was not part of the "academic system." Most of the students are from Jiangsu and Zhejiang (Gao Xiaosheng is from Wujin, Jiangsu, and Lin Zhao is from Suzhou, Jiangsu). Admissions are based on knowledge and talent regardless of age or academic qualifications. The school initially planned to train and accept Taiwanese cadres. School started in July 1949 and ended in May 1950, when the "Resist U. S. Aggression and Aid Korea" occurred and the school was closed. Among the classmates who later became somewhat famous were Lu Fuwei, Fang Zhongfu, and Lin Chuping.

I'm Dan, my sister. Shuang'er is my sister and we are twins. But Shuang'er has never been to the human world. But Shuang'er is indeed my sister. I am the only one in this world who knows that she exists. Past, present, future. We were two people, curled up in a womb at the same time, but it was me who was finally pushed out of the womb. At that time, I squeezed forward desperately in the narrow and dark passage. I knew that my life depended on my hair, and any obstacle or obstruction was destined to suffocate me. Finally, the scorching heat of the incandescent lamp stung my closed eyes, and I was born tragically. And at some unspecified time, Shuang'er turned into a breath and attached itself to me. In fact, we were born at the same time. My living means that I have the power of two people. As far as Shuang'er is concerned, she has surpassed me and everyone else.

This is the most glorious period of my life. I was twenty-two years old that year, and it was my prime time. In 1943, when I was nineteen years old, I was working underground in Peiping. In 1945, due to my brother's negligence in his work, I was implicated and exposed my target, so we evacuated to the Jizhong Liberated Area through the blockade. According to my conditions and work needs, I held three positions at that time: editor of the "Jizhong Herald", secretary of the Jizhong Military Region Headquarters, and teacher of the Shanxi-Chahar-Hebei No. 8 Middle School. At that time, my energy was so strong! How high the enthusiasm for work is! I work as a part-time secretary and translator at the military district headquarters. Our commander is Sun Yi, a cadre of the Long March Red Army who is well-known in the war. He was once the chief of staff of Nie Rongzhen, the commander of the Shanxi-Chahar-Hebei Military Region. He was nicknamed "Sun Beard" because of his small black beard.

Xinhua Bookstore was founded in 1937 and is about to celebrate its 80th birthday. For decades, Xinhua Bookstore has sold countless books, but no literary work has been published that positively reflects the people of Xinhua Bookstore. The author of this book, Wang Jun, has worked in Xinhua Bookstore for more than 20 years and has a deep understanding and deep affection for Xinhua Bookstore. He devoted many years to writing this novel, which positively reflects the work and life of Xinhua Bookstore people. It has shaped the two or three generations of Xinhua Bookstore people represented by Yan Lixin and Zeng Wanzhen, who love book publishing and work hard for the healthy development of Xinhua Bookstore. This book has a long time span and clear context, numerous characters and vivid images, vivid stories and rich details. The "true face of Mount Lushan" of Xinhua Bookstore can be seen before your eyes. The plot revolves around a mysterious rare ancient book that leads to several murder cases. Like a sparkling bead chain buried in the dark, it makes people curious and concerned, but also makes people lament its ominous fate.

It was my birthday that day, and Yali made sure to ask me out for dinner as a way to celebrate. I am 39 years old, there is nothing to celebrate, I just feel that time flies too fast and I can never catch up with my youthful days. "What's wrong with being 39? Haven't you heard that this is the second spring of life?" It's still the second spring, and I don't even feel the same as the first spring. She was dragged by Alison into a restaurant called "Lovers' Residence", "It's quite nice here, maybe we can find a lover." This is an elegant small restaurant, it may not be time to eat yet, it is very quiet inside, there are only two men drinking. We sat down at a table next to two men. I watched indifferently as Yali enthusiastically placed the birthday cake she had bought in advance, and added four blue candles and one red candle.

My eldest father's name is Yang Zisheng, and of course I will call him eldest father in the future. But I'm used to calling him Big Daddy, so I also call him Big Daddy when I tell stories about his past. My mother Liu Yue's hometown is in a small town on the Loess Plateau in the northwest. The town is surrounded by bare mountains. As long as there is a little wind, the dust will fly, and the town will be shrouded in a gray dust mist. My mother and my aunt Liu Ye are twin sisters. My grandmother passed away after giving birth to the twins. Therefore, my mother and aunt were raised by my maternal grandfather. My grandfather was a very strict and conservative man. He valued people's credibility and loyalty more than his own life. This is probably one of the reasons why he has never renewed his relationship, because he has to be loyal to women.

The 26-year-old sister couldn't wait to marry her brother-in-law because she was worried about becoming a leftover girl. On the occasion of the wedding, his father refused to attend the wedding for some reason, and a war between son-in-law and son-in-law began. The father helped his brother-in-law change his job to a factory, but his refusal to say "dad" intensified the conflict between the two. More than ten years later, when the brother-in-law called "Dad" for the second time, things had changed... The relationship between father and brother-in-law became first subtle, then tense, and even hatred. If we trace the origins carefully, it probably started with the brother-in-law's impatient and over-eager "Dad" at the beginning of their marriage. The marriage of sister An Hong and brother-in-law Wang Zhi sounds dramatic, but it is not romantic at all.

It's not dawn yet, and it's still early. Associate Researcher Cheng woke up again, and at that specific moment, it was as accurate as if someone was calling him from somewhere. Wake up, lie quietly, eyes open or closed, and then stay there until dawn. He's been like this for the past two years. Why? Have no idea. At first, he attributed it to the old-fashioned Simmons card under him. No, no, it was his wife. No, no, it was his wife and the old-fashioned Simmons card. My wife has obviously gained weight since she turned 40. In the past two years, she has become more and more angry. She walks with her belly protruding. When she turns over at night, she jumps to the top and falls to the bottom of the waves like waves. He was extremely irritable and complained that his wife's movements were too heavy. Is it like pounding her with such force? My wife knew that she was in the wrong and carefully controlled her body, but she developed the problem of snoring again.

Liu Rongxia's wonton stall is located at the entrance of Tuoba Street. Most of its customers are neighbors. There are few people moving around and business is not very good. When she was laid off from the company, she and her husband, Ma Minquan, worked at this wonton stall together. Later, they realized that it was a waste of money to keep the same stall, so Ma Minquan went out to look for work. He has no special skills and his job is not fixed. It is common for him to change jobs about ten times a year. It was still the same as usual at 7:30 in the evening. Liu Rongxia packed up the leftovers and prepared to go home. In a corner, she picked up a small brown bag with colorful banknotes inside. Liu Rongxia looked at it and touched it, and concluded that it was a ghost coin. It's not the Qingming season right now, so carrying ghost coins must be something like that at home. Liu Rongxia conveniently stuffed her bag into the mobile stall truck. They live on the second floor and have a bungalow utility room on the first floor. In the past, the structure of houses in this city's units was like this. Her stall cart was in the utility room.

You ask about my relationship with my father? Hehe, there's nothing to say. All my life, I have longed for a father who I can live with, who is warm, touchable, and who can hang around my neck and act coquettishly - but life has just given me a shadow father. I could say I grew up in a single parent household. Single parent is a fashionable term these years, but my pseudo-single-parent family life began during the war years. What else to say? The true statement is that I, the only daughter, and my four brothers were abandoned by my father. Also abandoned was my mother, my father's original wife, who least deserved this fate.

Easier to get than harder to get. When I was a child living in my hometown of Fufeng, I often heard the elders say, "If you know something in three days, you will be rich and prosperous for a thousand years." This shows how important it is to know. But what can we know? We can't predict what will happen in three seconds, let alone three days. On the other side of the ocean, in the United States, there was a fierce NBA game. It didn't matter which two teams it was. In the last three seconds, one team was two points behind the other team, but the other team had a chance to serve a throw-in. When the ball came in, the person who got the ball had no chance to aim, and there was no chance to make tactics. He could only get the ball and throw it into the basket. If the ball is thrown outside the penalty area, the ball is won; if the ball is thrown inside the penalty area, the ball will be played in overtime; if the ball is not thrown, the ball will be lost. Three outcomes, what will be the final outcome? Thrilling! No one can know. So, knowing is the hardest thing. What about hugging each other? Especially our own family members, we will definitely know when we hug and feel the heartbeat of our loved ones.

At seven o'clock in the morning, Xincao opened the "Good Mood" glass door. Take your seat. Menu. Barley tea. Shincho's cold fingers turned the hot teacup bit by bit. This cold and long winter is really too much to bear. The cup is made of celadon glaze and looks antique. It looks great when placed on a Chinese-style table. The most expensive thing is not the noodles, but the fineness, everything is fine. Many people say that food depends on the environment. Environment? Why don't you just take a look? See if you still need money! It's really heartbreaking. Why did the boss Jin Ping think of a treat? What I asked for was breakfast, and I was still in a "good mood." It is the Rolls-Royce of hundreds of noodle restaurants in this city, and it is very expensive. Well, there are quirks.

In order to prosper Tibetan literature, cultivate a literary creative team, and allow readers at home and abroad to better understand Tibetan literature and authors, this editorial department has successively promoted the works of a group of authors active in the Tibetan literary world in the form of columns, accompanied by the authors' creative talks and comments, in a three-dimensional manner. The first issue is launched by the young Tibetan author Bandan. He is a particularly diligent person, a person who has made great achievements in translation, a person who writes in both Tibetan and Chinese languages, and a person who regards literature as building a spiritual home. In today's society, there are very few people who are so dedicated to literature. This issue includes his novels "The Stars Fell For Whom", "Crying in the Sun", and "Facing Death, Do You Still Want to Sing?" >>Organized a column.

I have never been in love or resented. Only when your heart is cold, turn the ice stains into running water, take a breath, suck a drop, breathe in the fragrance, and be happy to see the grass drunk... - Inscription. A tooth-bone chopstick was lowered vertically into the wine cup. One end of the chopstick was half submerged, and then it spiraled out, and the wine dripped down. The little child's mouth will open like a chick waiting to be fed, and it will take it solemnly. Then, the drop of wine fell. The child choked, ha! What does it taste like? Haha... What does it smell like? It takes a lifetime to answer. In my family, this is a tried-and-tested ritual. Don't know what it means. When I was three years old, maybe only one and a half years old, it was basically a family dinner scene. It was a family tradition to climb onto my father's lap and take the initiative to receive this "baptism" that was not solemn but a bit funny.

I don't know when the wind started to blow outside the window again. The wind came and went, and came and went, like a hungry and restless lion, spinning and roaring. The prisoners in the prison cell didn't seem to feel the stronger wind blowing outside at all, and the knocking sound of the door panel was even more insignificant to them. As the temperature outside dropped, the chill in the room also increased. I put on the embroidered cotton-padded jacket, sat beside the small bed, and took out a piece of beef jerky from under the pillow. Before I could bring it to my mouth, a pale hand like an eagle's claw snatched it away. "It's so damn delicious! This beef jerky, um, smells good!" The woman chewed and swallowed hard, and slurred with her lips smacking. I stared closely at her bulging cheeks, stood up and put my right hand in front of her mouth.

In the summer when I was a child, the sky was blue, the ground was damp, and the heat wave was light. After a rain, the aquatic gourds, water chestnuts, gorgon seeds, lotus and other plants in the pond are especially green. The sky cleared, under the willow tree, in front of the stone mill, the sound of hammers and laughter covered the water surface, and also covered one or two empty water splashes mixed in among the aquatic plants. Most of the aunts and ladies were squatting. They were shy girls. Facing the naked children in the pond, they often turned their backs, revealing their slender silhouettes, and rubbed their clothes up and down. Children, you chase me and beat me, one violent blow after another, with your head exposed, either with a head of waterweed on its head or a mouthful of black mud in its mouth, shouting in a show-off manner, look, have you caught a fish? The aunt and ladies stopped their clothes at that moment, looked at the playing children, and asked with a smile, could they catch a big one?

On that day, the October sunshine in late autumn was clear and bright, but my heart was filled with boundless emptiness and fear. I felt like there was an insidious force holding my throat and trying to throw me out of this world. I have been standing outside the gate of sister-in-law Qinglian's house for a long time. The whole family buried their heads in the old bowl and struggled to put rice into their mouths. The sound of "snoring" was as beautiful as the sound of nature. Saliva gushes out of my throat like spring water. I coughed, stamped my feet, and made noise, but not too much. It's been two days, I'm still wet, I'm top-heavy, and I'm really afraid that one day I'll go to work at the Lord of Hell's place in my sleep. I am only 20 years old and belong to the sun at eight or nine o'clock in the morning. My beautiful body and life are still in bud.

The brightly lit gallery hall is bustling with people. Some were groggy, while some were excited to participate in such a decent activity that was temporarily isolated from the outside world; some were gorgeous, some were plain but still deliberately conveyed their personal character; some were cold, and some were happily discussing a possible business cooperation with their companions in the future. After the opening ceremony of the upcoming oil painting exhibition, guests will flow from the lobby into the inner courtyard to attend the reception and continue the evening's conversation and laughter. After greeting the customers who needed special hospitality, Lin Yang walked out of the staff passage. Wrapped in a beige thick needle shawl, I sat with my legs curled up on the iron railing of the small garden across the street from the art museum. The entire building on the other side looked more transparent in the early autumn night.

There are many phenomena in nature and human society that are often unpredictable. Harsh winters may occasionally have warm spring-like days; chaotic times may occasionally present a moment of peace and harmony. 1972 Was such an extremely special year. When the great turmoil of the Cultural Revolution was far from over, Comrade Xiaoping came back for the second time and carried out a comprehensive rectification of various industries in our country with his unique style of cutting through the mess with a sharp knife. In a short period of time, the extraordinary charm of great men was shown. In a short period of time, our country got rid of extreme chaos and achieved initial stability. His heroic spirit of "cleaning up the old mountains and rivers and facing the sky" was fully reflected during that period! However, the good times did not last long.

"What?! Say it again? You poured the hexagonal concrete for eleven hours? Did you take the wrong medicine? How is this possible?" As if he was bounced off the chair cushion, Mr. Zhu's pig liver face, holding up the mobile phone, instantly twisted into a bow, as if he could hit the arrow and shoot to the other end of the mobile phone signal. The two long black nose hairs under the turned nostrils were shaking mightily with the violent breathing, looking weird and ridiculous. "It's so unreasonable! How could I introduce the project to him?! I'm so embarrassed!" He threw down his cell phone and threw himself on the chair. The boss's chair creaked, like his husky's tail being stepped on and making a strange cry. I'm really afraid of what I'm going to do. A few minutes ago, I was smoking cigarettes one after another with his boss Zhu, talking about the embarrassing things about Xiao Xu. Every wisp of smoke filling the office seemed to be filled with worry.

"In the Name of the Son" is a fluent, profound and long-form literary work that closely follows social hot spots. The author has many years of experience in front-line education and is good at life flow writing. At the same time, he has the ability to accurately capture social topics and can grasp hot spots and avoid sensitive parts of educational topics. In the work, the author extends his vision to different identities such as teachers and married women, and uses "parents of poor students" as the axis to link different character relationships and show the common situations faced by women of different social status and identity backgrounds. In the real and subtle plot fragments, the surface of life is dissected with great depth.

The author of "Angry Stone" is very outstanding. His works are sophisticated in technique, complement each other with reality and reality, and leave a lot of white space. The text is also fluent and accessible, and it is a highly completed short novel. Short novels like "Daoma Dan" describe the love between men and women in the human world. Let's say a secret admirer thinks that he is hardworking and infatuated enough, he is upright, and he pursues his colleagues. After being invited to a colleague's home, I discovered that the person I loved had dedicated his body, mind, and loyalty to the patient who was bedridden at home. The story is very touching. Zhou Zheng expresses emotions and ends with etiquette. There are many stories similar to this in the author's works, such as "Jiangnan is Good", "My Mother Baking a Piece of Cake", etc., All of which praise the purest love. Works like "Adopt a Dog" and "I Hate the Smell of Sweat on My Body" are copied from the current world situation. It is conceivable that the author should be a young novelist with a poetic heart. He is sometimes ironic, sometimes angry, and sometimes tender. However, he refuses to express his attitude simply. He lets his works express his attitude. This is a very powerful creative method. Once his sensibility and sharpness are sufficient, the article will naturally become mature.

Chen Xi was born in 1966 in Qianxian County, Shaanxi Province. In 1989, graduated from Wuhan University with a master's degree in economics and is a lawyer. He once taught in colleges and universities and is currently the deputy director of Dongguan Municipal Bureau of Industry and Commerce. When he was a student, he was obsessed with science and philosophy. He mainly thought about nonlinear mechanisms in the social field, applied dissipative deconstruction theory to the economic and cognitive fields, and published many papers. In my youth, I had various versions of dreams, questioning my thoughtful character, and my life was always wandering in the melancholy gray corridor. Multidimensional perception is like seeds fermenting quietly, without an outlet. By some mistake, a hole was torn open. Looking back, I realized that it was a literary passage. Literature is like kneading dough. You have to knead it well and wake up through the experience of life, and wash it with the clear spring of wisdom. What comes out is a bowl of hot and sour gluten. He has published the novel "Muyang Jietuan" and published many novels in magazines such as "Chinese Writer", "Beijing Literature", "Writer" and "Feitian".

"Shangxie" edited by A Yuan is a story about a man falling in love with a woman. It is no different from most love stories. If you write too much about love, you will inevitably fall into the cliché, the same love at first sight, the same sigh. The author said that when a man falls in love with a woman, it is an extremely wonderful process. It is more beautiful than the first bloom of a hibiscus, and more beautiful than the dancing white snow. You will never get tired of watching it for the rest of your life. In the form of a trilogy, "Shangxie" tells the emotional story between three pairs of intellectuals in college: Meng Yu and Zhu Zhu, Tang Yasheng and Ji Yuan, and Meng Yu and Ji Yuan. They are all "exquisite egoists" who have received advanced love education, so these are just a few "pseudo-love" stories. The novel is named "Shangxie", which is irony and also "revealing the pain of illness and attracting attention to cure"-and it can also be regarded as giving an ancient prescription.

It's been a long time and Xiulan hasn't come back yet. The two of them don't know what they are doing outside. Has the cotton not been sold yet? Impossible. In previous years, their family has never sold cotton so late. Yu Shengkui used his hands to support himself and let himself lie half on the kang to make it more comfortable. He decided to wait until Xiulan came back. In vain, maybe the two of them have done everything they should do outside. Yu Shengkui's heart began to clog again. If the two of them had nothing to do with each other, would Gao Yinwa keep running to this house so enthusiastically? Yu Shengkui felt his whole body tremble. He was in pain and sadness, but also felt excited or excited. What was painful was that the two finally came together and openly started to do things to do things. The things that he had worried about and worried about before had definitely happened under his nose. What was exciting was that he finally caught the two of them having an affair. He must catch them and see what else they have to say.

The sound of the bells on the donkey's neck, the squeaking sound of the wheels rolling through the snow, and the whistle of the northwest wind merge into a sad song of farewell. Hei Ya bit the corner of the turban, with tears in her eyes, and whipped the donkey one after another. She wanted to rush to the station in one step, and how much she wanted to ask the donkey to walk slowly so that she could stay with Yu Chen for a while. As the train roared, Hei Ya pushed Yu Liaochen onto the train. Yu Liaochen opened the car window and gave one of the two jade bracelets to Hei Ya. Hei Ya held it in both hands, pressed it on her chest, and ran with the moving train. She was filled with gratitude, resentment and farewell, and was filled with so much sorrow that it was difficult to express it in words. Shortly after the Huaihai Campaign, a militia team came to the village to clean up the countryside, suppress bandits and hegemons, and wipe out the remnants of the Kuomintang on a large scale. Yu Renxin was a key target of the dictatorship. The villain complained, but the Yu family's servant Lang San bit back, accusing Yu Renxin of bullying men and dominating women, exploiting the poor, and killing people. The militiamen took Yu Renxin out, beat him up, and locked him up. He died within a few days of his release.

As for the final covering of Wu Lian's body, it was done by the lonely old man in the nursing home alone. He took out the washed red clothes from the camphor box and tried to put them on for her. The fragile fibers were torn due to the deformation of his body. He later searched through the boxes and cabinets, but did not find any white mourning clothes made of thick linen. He only found a pair of black clothes and trousers that were both eye-catching and large enough at the bottom of the camphor box. He used a dry white towel to cover the last image in the dead Wu Lian's eyes. Wu Lian's body was cremated in the county funeral home, and the lonely old man stayed with her until the end of the burning, acting as her only man and relative at the end of the road. He took the urn back and made a special trip to her home, placing her and Zhou Jian's urns side by side in the center of the long table. He walked to the door and looked back for the last time, stepped over the threshold, and slammed the door with a creaking sound. Now, nothing can stop them, crossing the boundary between life and death and finally sleeping together - Wu Lian and Zhou Jian will dominate everything in the house, including: dust, emotions, taboos, laws, and the loneliness that lasts forever.

Auntie is still crying, saying that after your father drank the medicine and lay in the coffin, the effects of the medicine have not fully taken effect yet, and there is still a little extra time. He simply climbed out of the coffin, tidied the vegetable garden again, and moved trees. I made incense myself, lit candles, and burned paper money. He returned a hoe to his neighbor. Stack up the cardboard boxes of the finished firecrackers so that my son can sell them for money. When he started foaming at the mouth, my father lay down again. I asked my aunt for help. The father fulfilled his son's filial piety. After the coffin was buried, no wonder some people said they heard beating sounds inside the coffin. In fact, I, too, heard it.

Li She hurried to the hospital. Her mother-in-law was breathing her last breath. When she saw Li She, she smiled softly and said that it wasn't that she didn't want to go back, but that she was a little worried about you and Congcong! ... Li She's heart was filled with unspeakable regret. His mother-in-law took Li She's hand and handed an old recipe to Li She. Li She looked down and saw that a large piece of the recipe was soaked in blood. The entire recipe was written with calligraphy. The small regular script neatly arranged on the edge of the old yellow mounting paper, which had become fluffed, had a toughness that penetrated the back of the paper as if it were cast from copper and iron. The first page of the recipe is for Snowflake Chicken. Seeing the last thoughts his mother-in-law left for him, Li She couldn't bear it any longer, lowered his head and burst into tears.

In the night, grandma saw my grandpa driving towards her in a magnificent carriage, and he sang happily. All the heavenly officials in our opera box gathered around the carriage to greet my grandma. Grandma is now anxious to tell my grandpa that his shadow puppets are going to the provincial capital. Binghao is a good successor. Much stronger than him. Grandma had a smile on her face.

The next day, Xianxian died and hung himself. When he died, he was holding a red-painted clay whistle in his hand. There was another person dead in Xianxian's room, it was Dung Boy. A pair of scissors was deeply inserted into Dung Boy's belly. Facing the rising sun, I stood. I'm standing on a high mountain ridge. My back is bent. My body tilted to one side, and my legs were higher and lower. This is what I looked like when I came out of prison. I held the mud whistle in my hand, and I blew it long and hard once, and again, and I blew the mud whistle in my hand again and again, and I was illuminated red by the rising sun.

During the first light snowfall of the year, Nista and Malina got married. The wedding was very grand, and many shop owners in Muxiang Town came to congratulate them. Like the people in Muxiang Town, Nista set up two large stoves outdoors to cook and cook, and invited people from the town to come and sit at his place. No one could have imagined that Xiaoden would also come back that day, and he would give them an old wall clock as a gift. At the wedding, Malina asked him, Young Master of the Xiao family, when will you get married? Xiao Dun made a shocking statement. It turned out that they had arranged a marriage in Harbin, but now it was divorced. I want to go back to Muxiang Town to find a girl, no matter how beautiful or ugly she is, as long as she has a good heart. Malina said, you didn't marry me, do you regret it now? Xiao Dun said with a smile that he had no regrets.

Not long ago, someone from my weekly magazine went to the south for distribution. When they arrived in Li Bin's county, they happened to meet people from the county government who were busy holding funerals: the county magistrate died, and the director, secretary and driver also died with him. The four deaths were due to the nature of the line of duty: a strong typhoon hit the county head-on. The county magistrate led his team to the countryside to direct the disaster response. He went to Qianshawan, but instead of staying in the village, he got in a car and ran with people into the dam in the bay. This man was worried that the typhoon tide would destroy the half-built dam that had been hastily stopped, and all his previous efforts would be wasted. Therefore, he ignored the dissuasion and insisted on going up to have a look. As a result, a row of big waves came over, and all the people including the car and the people fell into the water, and no one survived. Zhong Lulin was stunned.

After the literary epic "The Thorn Birds", Australian national treasure writer Colleen McCullough has created another epic masterpiece. For the sweetness in life, I am willing to embrace the price of every sweetness. Two pairs of twins, struggling between love and ideals, interpret four "anti-Jane Austen" stories. People in Clunda County have a question: What caused the two pairs of twins in Reverend Latimer's family to be born into completely different beauties and choose completely different lives? Ada is independent and courageous. Just her dream, far beyond the tiny county of Clondagh. Grace is a romantic by nature. She is waiting for someone who will appreciate the steam locomotive together and lead her into a comfortable and warm housewife life. Cao Hu is a sensible person. She would rather devote herself to medicine than to illusory love. As for the beautiful little sister Kitty, she longs for the day when her soul can be seen and appreciated before her skin. When the Great Depression struck Australia, the four sisters gradually tasted the sweetness and pain of each of their life choices.

This is Yangjila's voice, soft and sad. It feels like the whine of the ancient tomb blown by the wind, the gentle surging waves of Panyi Chaka, or the song of the thrush in the woods in late autumn. From then on, Yangjila never appeared in my nightmares again. But I suffered from severe insomnia. In the dead of night, listening to the rustling of the old poplar trees outside the window and the hoarse calls of wild cats regardless of the season, it felt like I was back in Panyichaka. Listen quietly, it's another old story.

He felt very happy. Since the death of his parents, there was still someone in the world who needed him and was close to him. Although this person was very small and might leave him when he grew up, he felt that after this moment, he was content and felt that his life was not in vain. The cherry behind her also shed tears, and she persuaded softly, "Yusheng, let's go home, ah, don't cry." Yusheng didn't say anything, but hugged Dongdong and walked toward home in the sunshine. Home is deep in the clouds and mist in the distance.

Huahuazi said: "Yaya godmother, my mother is eager for her grandson. I said something serious and hurt you. I am here to apologize for her." Pomegranate flower still refused to let Secretary Niu go: "What are you apologizing for? What does her son do? This responsibility is neither your fault nor my fault. Auntie, if he had taken care of himself, why would he have been in trouble today?" Secretary Niu said seriously, "I've said before that I can't manage it well and I want you to help me take care of it. You..." Before he could finish his words, he was ready to run away. Pomegranate Flower stretched out her hand, like an eagle's claws, directed towards Secretary Niu's crotch. Huahuazi hurriedly covered the pomegranate flowers and held them in her arms. The three people laughed bitterly but happily...

Zhaodi shook his head: How old are you? Today, my child's father drove over here to see his son, who is in college. He will pick me up soon. Sun Zhaohua breathed a long sigh of relief, looked at the ceiling, and said: Then let's go. Take care of yourself. Zhaodi said: Zhaohua, do you know? I want to stay so much. I want to stay with you to welcome a morning. When I go out in the morning, the snow is so heavy that I can't keep my eyes open. My feet stumble on a baggage. I look down and see that it's a child. That child is very sensible and understands. He doesn't cry or make trouble. He grins and smiles. His eyes are dark and he looks at you. He has a white face and a dimpled smile that can turn the rock sugar in your stomach into water.

Kate Morton, the female writer who created a sales miracle in the southern hemisphere, swept the best-selling novel lists in many countries in the northern hemisphere! Kate Morton's works have been sold well in 42 countries and regions and translated into 34 languages. The total sales volume of her works has exceeded 10 million copies! Every past that is unwilling to be forgotten hides an unknown secret. In 1930, on Nell's 21st birthday, her life was completely changed by a secret. Her father told her that she was an adopted orphan. 45 Years later, Nair came to the UK from Australia to search for her life experience, and found out that she had died at the age of 4. 75 Years later, Nair's granddaughter Cassandra inherited Nair's mysterious legacy - a labyrinth garden in England that she had never heard of. What secret does Nelle have? Why did she buy Maze Garden? Why is the Maze Garden forgotten? Cassandra decided to unravel these mysteries...

I planned to go back to work immediately and then find a quiet place to give birth to the baby. Ye Bo didn't call me again. I hope that in the noisy city, I can spend my time as an expectant mother quietly. I also plan to take my child to Ma Fei's hometown when she is one year old. Look at Ma Fei's father and Xiaowen. I want to tell my child that his father grew up there.

"Have you noticed that I live a stronger life than Mr. Charles Clement of France?" He showed a witty and teasing look on his face, smiled softly, as if searching for words, and then said slowly, "The title of this article says 'Only enough for two people, there is no share for the third person.' I think That's not the case, as long as it is tight enough, it can be enough for three people, or even four people. This is the logic of us Chinese people. We Chinese people don't talk about logic very much. Especially when it doesn't make sense or make sense, what we like to talk about most is feelings."