The flowering period of the Nagoya Cherry Blossom Festival this year begins on March 27, which is three days ago. Yesterday, there were still many flower bones. The warm wind blew over the night, and the trees were filled with flowers. The flowers faded early, which added a touch of beauty.

Under the bright sunshine, the five-story building of the Guwu City is surrounded by cherry blossoms, like a dream. If you don’t see Guwu City when you come to Nagoya, it is like not going to Tiananmen Square in the north of Beijing, it is definitely a must-visit place.

The hereditary tomb of the Tokugawa family has now become a tourist attraction. The flowering period of cherry blossoms is very short, and in the past two days, there have been more tourists. There is a Japanese haiku saying: "The world is so swaying and the cherry blossoms bloom on their own."

The culture of the Yamato nation always has a little gray color, which is very different from the festive celebration of the Chinese nation that likes red. When the cherry blossoms bloom, that is, when the flowers fall. The world is rolling, and in the eyes of these cherry blossom trees, the world is a passing visitor. If you come, I am here; if you don’t come, I will bloom on your own.

Travelers walked on the path leading to the ancient house city, and the cherry blossoms withered quietly and gorgeously, satisfying their perception and recognition of beauty - the so-called "death" means destroying beautiful things to people. This consciousness is fully displayed in their literature, songs, calligraphy and paintings.

I don't know when,

An ancient song rang leisurely.

This is a very old song. I stood quietly on the edge of the corridor and listened to it, and then I realized that the folk song "Sakura Song" that may have been widely sung in the Edo period.

****

波地

Yeshan もも

See the limit of the ferry

Xia Yun

Asahi

波地

Flowers

****

Many people were attracted by this familiar melody, stopped in front of the cabin, enjoying this childhood memory, and even whispered to sing:

sa ku ra

sa ku ra

ya yo i no so ra wa

mi wa ta su ka gi ri

ka su mi ka ku mo ka

ni o i zo i zu ru

i za ya

i za ya

mi ni yu ka n

***

The sound of the guqin is very special and simple. It cannot achieve a clear tone, but it is so ethereal and desperate, just like this cherry blossom, whether it is blooming or withering, it is so beautiful. The distant Nagoya Castle is even more distant...

Ancient city.

Cherry blossoms.

Piano music.

Many weathered elderly people snuggled up on the pillars of the corridor, closing their eyes to enjoy the beauty of this moment. Perhaps only by closing their eyes and relying on the evoked auditory memories can they remember the yakitori when they were childhood.

Although I don’t know who is playing the song, the guqin can play the song so exciting and the lingering sound must be a music master.

The piano sounds down.

The jade fingers that were stroking the strings of the piano were paused, and looked up at the green tiles and tall buildings. The cherry blossoms floated in outside the window and fell on the piano wood. His eyes were lively, and he looked at the scene outside the window.

“It’s really beautiful…”

She picked up the guqin, walked out of the back alley beside her, humming in a low voice:

Peach blossoms

Peach blossoms

Under the sunny sky in March

Endless peach blossoms

Flowers are like clouds and colorful clouds

Extremely beautiful as a painting

Come on

Come on

Come and see the peach blossoms

...

...

The pen in Zhong Yue's hand was still hanging. He remembered that he was sitting on a bench made by his father that night.

That innocent little girl stared at the bare branches and fantasized about the spring of March, when the peach blossoms bloomed all over the mountains. Now the time is right, but where is the person?

In another half a month, I might have to go to the mountain to see it.

The hanging pen tip stood in the air, like a sharp blade, ready to accumulate strength to attack at any time.

Blooming...

A little bit of ink peach fell on the paper.

In Chinese paintings, the painting of plum blossoms uses more ink colors, while in peaches are generally not ink colors, and mostly pastels are used. The peach petals falling on this paper cannot be seen by Jin Yinglie, and Jiang Boheng who is walking here cannot see it. In this static world, only Zhong Yue can see it.

The ink color gradually became thicker, and the paved gravel road extended to the end of the library. The peach forests around it grew on the table, on people, on...the trash cans without any scruples.

Zhong Yue stared at the distance and was silent for a long time. The bonfire next to him had been extinguished, and smoke rose from cooking fires.

He still waited, letting the mo peach fall on the paper, on his shoulders, on his heart...

"What is he looking at?"

Jiang Boheng stopped and followed Zhong Yue's gaze toward him.

"Are you borrowing from Yan Zhenqing's "Self-Writing and Announcement"? Is it a bit too late to learn from it now? Or are you looking for inspiration?"

Many people's works have been completed one after another.

Since the transformation of Chinese characters from Korea and Korea, the rules and brushwork that originally felt good about themselves have become jokes in Korean symbols, especially many calligraphers who started with Chinese stele culture. In these symbols with almost the same horizontal and vertical circles, no matter how they evolve, they seem to have half the result with twice the effort. Some old calligraphers such as Jin Yinglie still use Chinese characters to write. However, once the characters and calligraphy in this country are separated, it means that the meaning of calligraphy has disappeared.

Rather than this, it is better for the Yamato people to simply admit that their writings contain the culture of China.

Where is the person...

I'm waiting for you.

Zhong Yue looked at the space where ink and objects intersect, and he was looking for the girl playing the piano.

I have something important to find you, where is the person...

Time seemed to be still. Zhong Yue looked at the ink dots all over the sky, and in an instant, Mo Tao turned into sharp strokes again.

Three and two petals fold, like silver hooks.

The branches of the old tree are like hanging needles.

Everything is in Zhong Yue's eyes, calligraphy is painting, and painting is calligraphy.

You don't come,

I can only go find you.

The pen touches the paper.

This piece of paper comes from a two hundred-year-old shop in Nagoya, Japan. They made paper in their era and have been making paper for generations.

The tip of the pen fell, and the entire world of ink was twisted and sucked into the pen.

Zhong Yue's wrist was stable, and he was writing with his wrist hanging on his wrist, no longer shaking his hands as he did at the beginning. His strokes were graceful, like the nine-curve Milky Way.

Japanese calligraphers believe that laws and regulations are the culprits that restrict calligraphy freedom, but they do not know that once laws and regulations become their own laws, they will become the master. As for freedom, they will let things go.

"Fate is born to be stepped on by foot. Come back, the sweet potatoes are roasted, I'm waiting for you."

If the words can speak, then the text that Zhong Yue fell on the paper seemed to be whispering, the sound was magnetic and gentle, like the attraction of gravity. He wanted to approach him every minute and every second, but he also had a kind of ascetic worship, and wanted to reach out and hand it over to him.

"Is this a word?" Jin Yinglie looked at the work in a muffled manner, his eyes unable to move away for a long time.

He firmly opposed the Chinese language, because the Chinese characters are flesh and blood, but the pile of symbols, like Arabic letters, are lifeless.

He clearly saw the thickness of this work.
Chapter completed!