Wind and rain, the rivers and lakes

  For more than a decade, my first girlfriend has been buying and selling tea, sending me a small box of new tea, six small cans, and six small bags per can every year. “Good tea, more than four.” She said. The address on the box was handwritten by her. In addition, there was no idle word, just like she used to write a letter every day in a certain year without a “miss” in the letter.
  I occasionally ask her, what is good tea? She said, new, new tea is good tea. I then asked, what else? She said, let my colleague tell you. At the end of the phone is a strong middle-aged male voice: “Four elements: water, fire, tea, and utensils. Water must live, fire must be fierce, tea must be new, and beauty must be beautiful. In ancient times, every value was clear, fast horses I sent new tea to the palace. Everyone was wearing fur coats and took a sip. They said, “Jiangnan is in spring.” I hung up the phone.
  An old bookstore on Baihua Street in Hong Kong is about to close and handle the used goods. I picked a lot of dirty books from the Republic of China. The boss asked if there was a teapot. It was a bit old, I did n’t know how old it was, and it was not cheap. It cost 300 yuan. When I bought it 20 years ago, it cost 200 yuan. The pot is large, thick, and muddy and dry. I paid for it. The boss was afraid of falling and wrapped it in soft horse dung.
  I put the tea in the pot and rushed into the boiling water. The first bubble, light, not fragrant, as if I first met her, my eyes were hot, she had a chest, her head down, I could not smell her, and I saw her straight hair just to her shoulders separated from left to right and exposed White scalp. The second bubble, my eyes are like water, my heart soldier is a little fixed, she slowly began to stretch, and smiled, I saw the color on her face, and smelled a better smell than flowers. The third bubble, the wind blew, her clothes and hair fluttered, her eyelids were single but double, I closed my eyes, trying to figure out every detail of her, but I couldn’t figure out her face, I started to feel dazed . In the fourth bubble, I took her hand, and the palm print on her hand was clear. She asked, “Is my feeling line messed up, right? What constellation do you have?” I said, “There is one in 12 in the world. The person belongs to my constellation. “The fragrance gradually drifted away, and the smell basically belonged to the imagination.
  I like the eight words on the pot, “It’s a storm, it’s full of rivers and lakes.” Like the dried jasmine in the scented tea, like her eyes at some moment.