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Fun stories in childhood are always sweet, and childhood life must be beautiful. With a pure heart.

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Many years ago, a square seal was carved, Hanshi. So he took the cold room as his name.

This work is a collection of Qian Ziying's essays. All articles in it are original works by me. Any similarity is purely coincidental and imitation is prohibited. If you like my work, thank you for your love and support. Let us stand together through thick and thin and make progress together!

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Hello readers! I am Wenjun 520, and I am very happy to present you my poetry works, which come from the taste of life and will surely precipitate sweet wine for you. Grow together and read together.

I fold my mood into the wind with tooth marks There are wet spots hidden in the paper texture When it passes over the window sill, the sun is opening its palms Catch the shadows sprouting in the folds From the corners of the wind, glowing wings grow

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90s high and gradually separated (the strings continue to break) A collection of poems published at the age of 17 Overseas Chinese Publishing House "We Once Loved the Same Sea"

When the wind tore and the rain rolled over me, thousands of muddy fists were splashed on the ground, like wildly jumping water splashes. If fate dared to drown my ideals, I would use my bones to carve unyieldingly into the waves.

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We took a painted boat and anchored it in the center of the West Lake. The setting sun turned the boat's shadow into light gold. Let those love words and poems that hide the heartbeat, follow the gentle ripples on the side of the ship, and ripple across the blue waves - like spring catkins falling into the soft wind, like lotus fragrance entangled with willow silk, quietly spreading into long rolls in the water light, every water ripple is spreading our years.

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Sometimes, inadvertent moments will always bring you into memories, fill in the gaps, and try to retain the memory. But when there is a gap in the memory, it is inevitable to be pulled back to reality. When I was a child, I listened to my grandma talking about things of their time, and later I listened to my mother's stories. Everything in their memories is different. It's because the city is changing, society is changing, and life is changing. I don't know if I, many years from now, will be telling my children the words, "We were back then..."

The Great Wall is a majestic poem engraved by time. The peaks are the punctuation points, and the shadows are the rhymes. Every inch of masonry is soaked with ink marks tempered by beacon fires. It winds among the folds of mountains and rivers, The blood of the garrison soldiers, the cocoons on the fingertips of the craftsmen, Together with the swaying moonlight of camel bells, All condensed into poems that will never fade, On the title page of the land of China, Eternally singing the long song of the family and the country forged by the pure heart.

I have never written sad words, nor have I made up poignant stories. ? Until one day, I discovered that loneliness can be drunk into the throat, and loneliness can be pumped into the lungs. ? Maybe words will be written and stories will be woven. ? But our youth is getting shorter and shorter, and our friends are getting fewer and fewer. ? We are all like a blind man, without direction, taking things as they come; we are also like an idler, walking around casually and never looking back, because we have no way to retreat. ? Some truths seem to be understood but are actually unknown; some people seem to understand but are actually difficult to understand. ? I don't know since when, I got used to living alone. I am miserable alone, who can understand my story! If that's the case, then so be it! Fortunately, the story is not over yet and life can go on. So, let us meet again in memories and get together in stories.

Little hearts bloom when rain falls on the ground

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Sometimes, human love is like a butterfly and a flower. Although flowers are good to butterflies, only butterflies and butterflies can fly together. Flowers will wither without soil moisture. Sometimes, regret may be more perfect than gain, and friendship may last longer than love. Life may be like this. Only when you can't do some things can it be better for yourself and others. Amnesia is lost when it's time to lose memory. It's rare to be confused. Young people, be more open-minded.

These are not stories or essays. Just some thoughts written by myself. It doesn't matter whether you understand it or not. As long as someone knows. May the starry sky always open up its light and shine on every heart that needs healing...

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Use classical poetry to record your own mental journey since the 21st century. Anthology of Lonely Hearts.

From Wang Ziheng's personal poetry collection

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After the college entrance examination in 2025, life has gone through another parting. Many former friends have gradually become alienated or even lost contact. Looking back, the innocence in the beginning is like a red tangerine tree in my memory. Although it has withered, it will always bloom in my heart. Tang petals are mostly elegant white or pink, and if you turn one red to a deep color, it will become purple. I occasionally remembered that I had written a poem about Begonia in the early third year, so I took advantage of my leisure time in the summer to compile some of my writing in the past three years. So I wrote this collection of Hongtang. Life is a waiting, waiting to meet, waiting to part.

Follow the call in your heart and look for the reeds in the distance Life dances with the clouds and mist, may you look for the rainbow

This little guy, you can't help but fall in love with him as soon as you see him. His naked body was only clad in a pair of beige sweat-stained briefs. His body was strong and well-proportioned, and his thick back was covered with mud marks. Under the round head is a round face. The eyes are not big, but they are very clever. When he dashed across the concrete floor in front of us with his bare feet, my eyes suddenly lit up: Isn't this guy the same kid I was in childhood? If he wears a silver collar and holds a steel fork, wouldn't he be the younger "Run Tu" of the protagonist in Lu Xun's "Hometown"?

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Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

My emotional grocery store

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This work covers rhythmic poetry, new-style poetry and short essays, with diverse forms and rich content. From the trivial matters of life to the reflections on life, from the natural beauty to the inner feelings, every stroke records the various aspects of life.

This is a series of warm poems created based on the clues of the people I associate with. Behind every name there is a story, be it friendship, family or love. Chapters connected by names convey the most sincere emotions between people.

Read all the bitter things in the world, and write in brocade to spread the sadness.

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Author's introduction: Chen Yulin, courtesy name Qianmo, pseudonym Zhongfu, pen name Linbi Kang Qiaoliefu. He has been obsessed with literature and history since childhood, and has been deeply involved in classical poetry and long-form creation for many years. He uses his pen as a boat to record history and emotions, and his writing style has its own style. His creations are based on the Chinese historical context and the rhythm of poetry as the soul, integrating the weight of historical writing and the delicacy of literary spirit. He is especially good at historical novels, classical poetry, metrical poetry and narrative prose. His works have a grand structure, pen power and profound emotions. He is the author of long historical novels "Meipi Lake Weiyang Pavilion", "Long Song Ember: Thousand Years of Poems and Ghosts", and "Evening in the Maple Forest", which have been serialized to this day, with magnificent context and outstanding characters. He also wrote poems and poems such as "Health Preservation Fu", "Chinese Civilization Fu", "Qin Huiwen King Fu", and many metrical poems, with elegant diction and far-reaching meanings. He also discussed the thoughts of Taoism, Confucianism and Legalism, and understood the world and the truth, and cherished the mountains and rivers. Collection of representative works: "Era of Prose" and "Period of Yu Yu" Novel: "Long Song of Beacon Fire", "Enlightenment of Taoism, Confucianism and Legalism", "Books and Fragrance Notes of Yunting Gate Tower" Poetry anthology: "Poems and Songs" Single representative works: "The Fate of the World", "The Game is Broken", "The Peace That Should Be Sealed in the Red Dust", "The Elegance Deep in the Rings of the Year", "It's Hard to Calm Down the Wind", "Love and Ink" "Winds and Clouds in Time", "Nostalgic Ode on the West Bank of Jinjiang River", "Peace Woven by Time", "Mountains and Rivers on Dragon Scales", "God's Will Overflows When Flowers Bloom", "Life is an illusion", "Autumn by the Changshou Lake, covered with sweet-scented osmanthus", "Ink Yun Ci Heart Record", "Ink-stained face of mountains and rivers", "The Long Song of Life in the Thousand Years of Moonlight", "The Fate in Youth", "Evening in the Maple Forest" and "Bodhi Comes to the World"

The author and the reader are friends who have never met. We are not in the same time and space, but we can still sit across from each other and listen to my talk. Thanks to my friends who are reading this book, they are willing to give me a pair of "listening" ears, listen to my ramblings, and watch me feel complacent. I hope that my soul in the time and space where I wrote these words can slightly touch your soul who is reading these words at that time, and then this book will have no regrets.

If you can make readers happy by chatting casually, that would be best. If you are unhappy, please express your true thoughts naturally and directly. The world is beautiful because of its diversity.

The men's series is a new attempt this year

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A collection of poems written randomly by a young man since middle school. The author is currently in college and still writing.

About the author Wang Weiguo, formerly known as Wang Yong, is a member of the Hubei Provincial Writers Association. In 2018, he published "Wang Weiguo's Collected Poems" by the China Federation of Literary and Art Circles Press.

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Reality is like the starry sky, bright and cold and deadly at the same time. This is my place of catharsis and safe haven, and I hope my writing can grow here. Very different styles. Set sail, I hope this journey will reach the stars