What if Meng Po is cooking Meng Po soup and tastes it?

Take an inch of lovesickness, two spoonies, three or two days of true feelings, four dollars of joy, five lights of love, six feet of sorrow, seven feet of resentment, eight points of worldly suffering, and dissolve in nine points of water that forgets Sichuan. This bowl of Mengpo soup is in front of you. "Meng Po carrying her soup, said to the scholar present. Meng Po is old, very old, but the scholar is still the same as when he was young. The scholar frowned, stared at the old woman in front of him, looked at the soup in her hand again and said, "What's this ... what's this smell?" Meng Po smiled, turned around and put the soup aside, and said to the scholar, "Do you still remember what your first love was like?" "Scholar leaning on the bridge, quietly looking at the water under the bridge, silent for a long time, with a sigh," I can't remember. I have been dead for 900 years. 900 years is so long that I almost forget who I am. How can I remember what I asked for so long ago? "

"Nine hundred years ... it's been nine hundred years since the day I came to this bridge. Speaking of it, we are predestined friends. " Meng Po wiped her hands and pinned a flower to her hair. Her vicissitudes of life have blood-red flowers on her head, and her old face is a little more delicate out of thin air. When she came to the scholar, she seemed to think that the flowers were a little partial, so she tidied them up. Then she stood beside him and continued: "Then why did you delay being reborn? I have been a ghost in the world for 900 years, and I must be as lonely as an old woman. "

"I only remember that I seem to be waiting for someone. But I don't know where to wait, how long to wait, or even who to wait for. Now think about 900 years is a long time, but when we are on the earth, time is meaningless. Every day is wandering aimlessly, from morning till night, from winter to summer.

Although as a lonely soul, I can't feel the change of seasons, but I still feel cold when I see snow. This may be one of the few feelings I have left. Just floating around, looking at every different face around me, no one is the person I am waiting for, although I don't know who I am waiting for. Slowly, I don't care who is waiting. Now that I have forgotten her, it doesn't matter who I am waiting for. Anyway, the meaning of my attachment to this world is waiting.

Are you waiting for someone or a snow? Whether you are waiting for a bunch of flowers or a cloud to float by. Until one day, I knew I couldn't wait any longer, and my soul almost completely dissipated. After careful calculation, I have been floating in the world for 900 years. After that, I came here. ""It's hard to wait so long, isn't it? " "Bitter? What does it feel like to be bitter? I forgot many things, I'm sorry. " Meng Po corners of the mouth pulled pull, don't know what is laughing or other emotions. She walked slowly to the hearth, picked up the bowl and handed it to the scholar.

"Come, drink this bowl of soup, go to reborn. There is no need to wait in the afterlife. " The scholar took the soup and gulped it down. After drinking, he accidentally dropped the bowl. Look at his face, his facial features seem to be twisted together. He said to Meng Po in a trembling voice, "This ... what's that smell! It's terrible! " Meng Po laughed loudly: "This is suffering! Well, the soup is finished. After crossing this bridge, you and I will start a new life. " The scholar turned and left without saying a word. After the scholar left, Meng Po poured out the bowl of Meng Po soup that the scholar should have drunk, and said to himself with a wry smile, "Since you have forgotten me for a long time, why do you want to drink this so-called Meng Po soup? I gave you a glass of wine. It's my acacia. Bitter taste is acacia. " The scholar who left, crossing the Naihe Bridge, squatted on the ground and burst into tears. "After waiting for nine hundred years, I finally met you. Fool, if I don't understand lovesickness, how can I understand the suffering of lovesickness ... "