In 845 B.C., outside the Vermilion Bird Gate of Chang'an City of the Tang Dynasty, paper money, dried fruits, water and wine were sold at the entrance of the East Market. The weather is also so uncertain, and the clouds are flying, like my floating heart at this time. This year, Du Mu was on the way to Chizhou to move to the left, and he was full of complaints.
Du Mu, a Tang man, rode a thin horse alone, and when the yamen had a day off, he hit a horse to find the old man Cheng. One is to tell the farewell, and the other is to dispel the sullenness of degrading the official position. In the afternoon, in the grass house of Xinghua Village, Cheng's cooked, fried a few plates of meat dishes, a table, sat on the face, talked about the old, drank and drunk, poetry came, Cheng's paper, ink and pen inkstone waited, Du Mu waved "Qingming", outside the paper window, instantaneous drizzle. Later, Du Mu became famous, and this poem became a masterpiece. But very few people know Cheng's, but fortunately, I still know how she cooked that day, and when she took out the wine that had been stored for more than ten years, she was very happy.
More than a thousand years later, it is not easy to add two days to the Qingming holiday. Burn incense and bow down one day to remember the predecessors. One day hangover, the next day in suspense, read Du Mu's famous work at night, chant Cheng to listen, outside the window is already the sickle moon hanging in the air, a silence, that year's drizzle in Xinghua Village, did not fall.
If the years are intentional, in the chaimen of Xinghua Village, Du Mu and Cheng's should be drunk once in a thousand years, and they will go away, which can be regarded as living up to the expectations of the beauties.