Shared reading - characters in the book

The sea of ​​books, the scent of light smoke, seems to be free in this piece of blue, who's voice can carry me to soar the sky? Who can be lucky to help me master the direction?

Funeral flowers -

The tone of sadness is like the redness of flying, quietly telling the past of a sea otter.

You wrinkled two eyebrows, and the weak jade hand held the flowerbed in your hand, and buried the land in the pure land, letting the talkers go with the soil.

The bloody cuckoo is the aria of the millennium that you have left for a thousand years, and you feel the unremitting efforts for your own pursuit of happiness. Lin Daiyu, I, praise you.

Standing under the phoenix tree, listening to the leaves screaming, the white clouds seem to hide into the sad clouds. A turbid teardrop scattered in the air, falling with the wind...

Willow words -

The east wind gradually rises, blowing up the medicine of a hospital, and sings lightly in the infiltration of the wine.

The shadow of the bluestone on the blue sky stunned the countless flying flowers, and you cum the fluffy blue silk to spit out the heroic spirit.

There is no sleek and welcoming cater to the sigh of sorrow and sorrow. You add a bit of poetry to this cold and clear Grand View Garden, which is a bit lively. Shi Xiangyun, I, respect you.

The dream of the red floor daughter is a song that has not changed for a thousand years. The pain in the song, the blood of the idiot can be heard in the clock period?

The scent of jasmine is gone, and the steps are quietly coming at dusk. Tired of the West Window, accompanied by the afterglow, the breeze smashed the face, the heart could not help but float up the meditation, wrapped around the yellow pages, splashing the waves of my heart. Looking up into the distance, I can’t help feeling in my heart—

The sense of tempering turns to the stars, the time is gradual, and there is a withered heart hidden in the vicissitudes of the years. I set this wind in the universe to find sincerity, looking for a supreme soul...

Like her, although she is somewhat self-respecting, although she is somewhat mean and suspicious, however, she still loves her unique, half-white and half-literary texts, I can not fully understand, but still fascinated by her purity.

Such a delicate and pure woman is always gracious, not to mention her. If the woman's heart is the most fragile crystal, then her heart is a crystal palace built under the magnificent sea; if the woman's heart is the most fragile crystal, then her heart is covered with crystal clear pear flower Mountain village with snow flakes.

She is always the most beautiful scenery here. She is not a hibiscus, but a Xiangzhu standing on the corner of the wall. She can't care about her in the world. Once the beautiful faith disappears, she will follow the faith like a singer. And go. Thousands of words, all kinds of talents, are diamonds dotted with her pure heart, just so she became a city.

In the cold and clear place, only she can highlight loneliness. In the wonders of “Flower and flowers are flying all over the sky”, everyone laughs and laughs. Only she leans against the flowers, tears and the “red line breaks the pity”. Sighs accompanied by "who was buried in the age of knowing who is going" drifting into the distance...

First day: Su Xiaomo