Beg to speak. The content is the appreciation of Jin Yong's characters. For example, I like Ling Huchong. Because of him. What? What?

If we have to use one word to describe Jin Yong's heroes, Guo Jing is sincere, Yang Guo is crazy, Zhang Wuji is cowardly, Wei Xiaobao is slippery, Xiao Feng is fierce and Duan Yu is crazy, but our Ling Huchong can only use the following word-two.

Jin Yong's novels have an increasingly good habit. The characters who appear when the book is opened are insignificant. I remember watching sculptures when I was a child, and I was surprised to see Qiu Chuji single-handedly fighting the seven eccentrics in the south of the Yangtze River. Later, I felt that Mei Chaofeng's martial arts were unfathomable. After reading a few more chapters, I found that there were powerful monsters behind. It turns out that those characters who are particularly arrogant as soon as they appear are mostly small roles and little tricks in Jin Yong's books. Ling Huchong was very arrogant when he came out. "Big Brother" and the Qingcheng Sect who destroyed Lin Pingzhi's family are just like dirt under him, swearing and being hot-headed. I knew it at that time. Hum, this child must be a big unlucky guy. In the next few chapters, the bricks arranged by Mr. Jin were greatly beaten and quietly succumbed to the development trend of the roadside.

After watching the episode of Hu Ling 2, I'm still alive. Only then did I know that Jin Shifu was an unreasonable poker player, but the boy was really different from others. He didn't see his voice first. He was told heroic deeds by a nun, but he didn't see the real person. He was seriously injured and died after desperate efforts. Just in response to his famous saying, "If you meet a nun, you will lose if you gamble." You were brought out by a nun, but you didn't lose.

With a little bit of luck, I will be enlightened by Feng and have a sword (I wonder what Uncle Feng sees in him? ), but the internal force is completely lost, and it is always unfair to be pumped from time to time. But his martial arts are humble but his pride remains unchanged, with a pot of wine, an eyebrow, a sword and a laugh. I wonder if this is possible in real life. After careful consideration, Ling Huchong is either a fool or a fool.

Ling Huchong looks radiant, and officials are ecstatic, but with all due respect, who is the authority? Ninety-nine out of a hundred people have been killed, which means he is lucky to survive, but is he happy?

Unhappy. Yes, really unhappy.

His respected master became an enemy and his dear brother died unexpectedly. Let's just say it's fate. Let's talk about his own heart. Younger, he likes, doesn't like his, and doesn't like his little nun. Repeatedly self-fighting, self-fighting, self-fighting with his own heart, and he may not even know his own heart. A person who does not know his own heart is still arrogant. If not two, what is it?

This is a daily - happened thing. People who are proud of the sea often sigh alone in the dead of night. This is a daily - happened thing. He chose to be proud of everything, but to some extent he chose to give up on himself.

Maybe there is often wine at this time, and 300 cups will be poured every day, 36,000 days in a hundred years. Gradually, I found that there are many elements in Ling Huchong that are in harmony with people I know very well. Those elements are: wine, piano, lazy but heroic breathing, drifting with the flow and doing whatever you want. These people are: Liang Xiake, Wei and Jin celebrities, and Su Dongpo.

This guy may be inexperienced, immature, unstable and smart, but he is not at home and can't do "no rain or shine", but this guy can actually laugh without winning. Like a mess, some people untie it carefully, and some people cut it directly with scissors.

He is the second, not just the second. His name shouldn't be Ling Huchong. Where is the fox's cunning? Tell pig to rush, pig, and run naked. But I'm really happy for him and myself. He is very happy. He is a happy pig.

Fortunately, Ling Huchong is happy. He can enjoy himself. I can think back thousands of years. In the afternoon, he smiled, the sun was shining and the spring breeze rippled.

That's enough.