Chapter 92: Songcheng

The sunset sprinkled golden light on the earth, the whole ancient city was covered with golden gauze like cicada wings, and the earth was covered with mysterious colors.

The hawking and noise on the street suddenly constitute a group of evening symphonies.

Song City, standing in the wilderness, is like a shining pearl, inlaid in the wide area of the Song Dynasty.

The crisscross transportation facilities constitute the bloodline and skeleton of the city, driving Songcheng to make great strides towards the current developing city.

At night, thousands of lights shine brightly, buildings are suddenly covered with jewel-inlaid clothes, and the streets have become a shining galaxy.

Deep night, the lights of the small city are like flying fireflies, flickering and getting darker, and the whole city seems to be shrouded in dreams. Songcheng, this ancient city, is now asleep. She lay quietly in the arms of the canal, like a water lily in the silver riverbed.

Tens of thousands of lights flashed, and I was like traveling in the space galaxy and watching the lantern party in the ancient capital Songcheng.

Against the backdrop of the night, the cars on the street are following closely, row by row, as if there is a string of dazzling pearls flowing, and like rows of twinkling stars moving.

If Songcheng is like an emerald city during the day, then when the sun sinks, Songcheng becomes a night pearl, with lights like the sea and thousands of streets shining.

The whirlwind swept the yellow dust and dust with chicken feathers, stirring up the whole town and making the lively market depressed.

Nightfall, bright electric lights, like golden night pearls scattered in the town. The town on a rainy night is full of hazy lights, and countless eyes seem to be open and closed.

The wheat seedlings in the field are like a sea, and the villages near and far are like boats in the green sea. The fields were quiet, and one or two bean-like small lights began to appear in the far and near cottages, flashing timidly.

The river in the water town is as dense as a cobweb, and the round stone arch bridge is like blisters after the rain.

The dandelion is holding a small golden flower, as if praising the spring in this water town.

The country road is winding, like a naughty child playing tricks on people, showing a little trace from time to time, and disappearing from time to time.

The rivers of my hometown are crisscrossed and dense as cobwebs, which can be called Venice in the east.

The golden finch sings, jumps, and sometimes flies, like a group of tireless children, adding more fun to this quiet mountain village.

The full moon is like a huge sky lamp, reflecting the mountains and countryside like a transparent crystal world.

The dissolved moonlight, like water, passes through the umbrella-shaped acacia branches and sprinkles in the mud wall courtyard of the mountain village.

Crely smoke rose over the village, like girls in white gauze dancing, graceful under the sunset.

On the bustling and endless streets, people are boiling like a pot of boiling water.

The wide streets are like conveyor belts, sending people in all directions.

After the strong wind passed, the fronts, stalls and pedestrians on the street seemed to have been swept away by the wind and disappeared, leaving only willow branches dancing wildly with the wind.

The wind was getting louder and louder, and the pedestrians on the street were covered with black soil, as if they had just emerged from the ground.

The alley is like a snake, winding in the middle of a row of tall buildings and a residential area.

There are no flowers or trees in the alley. They are charred, dry and covered with a thick layer of dust, like a dry river.

The alleys of Songcheng are flavorful. They are neat and deep, tortuous and changeable. The alleys are paved with marble. There is no gray sand in spring. As soon as the summer showers pass, you can wear cloth shoes without getting wet.

I love that ordinary alley. I am familiar with every corner of it, every green brick, and every crack on it. Colorful lights shone on the road, like a string of beautiful pearls, and the passers-by seemed to be covered with beautiful colorful clothes.

The bright street lights reflect the stars in the sky, and the whole market is immersed in a pearly treasure, dazzling.

Looking along the road, the street lights are snowy and snowy, like a fire dragon with no head in front and no tail in the back.

The street lights near and far have been turned on. At first, it was like a dark red fruit plate, but gradually turned into a big bright silver ball.

The street lights on both sides of the road are on, looking like a long river shining from afar.

The ball-shaped street lamp is like pearls magnified tens of thousands of times; when they come together, they look like a bunch of grapes

There are ball lamps on the lamppost, like a red lotus blooming.

Two rows of shining street lights stretching into the distance are like winding fire dragons.

The street lamps far away cast a beam of aperture, and snowflakes flew like fireflies under the light.

One or two listless lights seem to be sleepy eyes.

The street lamp on the street emitted a dim red electric light, like a pair of red eyes of those drunks, looking at him with a flash.

The road is paved with dates-sized stones, white, yellow, dark red and colorful, like an endless ribbon.

A winding stone road, coiled like chicken intestines by the mountain bay river.

On the path leading to the lake, there was a layer of leaves, spotted, like a skin snake.

A variety of cars shuttle back and forth on the wide road, like a colorful river flowing.

At night, the lights on Nanjing Road in Shanghai are bright and brilliant, and even the stars and moon in the sky are eclipsed.

The official road runs north and south, with pines and cypresses and sycamore trees on both sides, as if two green laces are embedded in it.

The sunny road after the rain is like a mirror, flashing colorful colors in the sun.

The silver-gray bridge is like a wide belt tied to the Yellow River, which can't be seen at a glance, adding luster to the surging Yellow River.

The core bridge spans the middle of the East Lake like a crescent, and the road extends from both ends to the distance.

Giant piers, just like the claws of dragons, are deeply inserted into the rapids and firmly support the steel dragon.

From afar, the stone bridge is like a white jade belt, tied to the soft waist of the river.

The small bridge looming in the water seems to float away at any time.

A three-hole bridge made of stone is reflected in the water, like a hook crescent moon.

At dusk, the sun left a long afterglow on the top of the mountain, and the ancient pagoda was like a towering sword in the sunset.

The chimney, which wants to compare with the peaks, spitting white smoke and the breeze blows. Under the blue sky, it forms a long feather-shaped white cloud, like a white goose feather pen that is writing across the sky.

Rows of chimneys, spitting thick smoke, blooming black peonies in the sky.

The big black chimney is like a calm man, spitting out a breath of anxiety from time to time.

Three tall chimneys towered into mid-air, quietly, like three old men smoking dry cigarettes.

The tall chimney emits black fog day and night, which darkens the morning light, darkens the sunset, and also darkens people's faces.

The flowers in the garden have their own postures: some petals are all unfolded; some only two or three petals are unfolded; some are still round buds, which look so full that they are about to burst.

The plums in the garden in the middle of the street are like small yellow butterflies on the branches, giving off a refreshing fragrance.

There are tall stone pillars on the ruins in the forest, as if the old man in history is telling the legend of this place in ancient times. As soon as I entered Song Lin's gate, I looked up and saw the fiery red leaves, which surrounded the autumn mountains, just like the Flame Mountain in Journey to the West.

As soon as you enter the gate of Songlin, two rows of sycamore trees are powerful and majestic, like guards of honor, welcoming tourists.

There is a pair of lifelike lions standing on both sides of the steps, with big mouths and big copper bell-like eyes, majestic, like two guards standing guard.

From afar, the reflection of the jade belt bridge and the water surface form a whole circle, much like a bright moon held on the water surface, and like a brocade belt, blown up by the breeze and floating on the surface of the water.

From afar, the 17-hole bridge is like a long rainbow floating on Song Lake.

The exquisite pavilion hidden by green trees and bamboo is like a shy girl peeping at tourists in the distance.

Here is a 17- or 8 year old teenager quietly staring at the beautiful scenery of the lake, but the calm lake reflects the young man's empty eyes, indicating that the teenager is absent-minded at this time.