DZzzz

At year's end, frontier affairs leave scarcely a moment's leisure.
My humble home lies in a remote lane; when guests arrive, laughter and talk fill the air.
You visit my thatched gate and sigh at its quiet; I quickly pick wild greens and gather wind-fallen firewood.
My life is spent among poetry and books; worldly affairs are like a morning of wind and rain.

Adorned with luxuriant sprays to form a crown, studded with variegated gems to make a pendant.
Emerging from Mianqi, it roams afar, traverses the primordial vastness, and soars aloft.
Phoenixes spread to blot out the sun; luan birds gather in flocks.
To the left, Kunwu’s blazing light; to the right, Yanzi’s auspicious clouds.
Brilliantly gleaming in seven radiant hues, suffused with the swirling mists of five colors.
Unseen by ordinary folk—how could even spirits and gods have ever witnessed it?
Then the jade-green terraces shimmer in staggered array, and the golden palaces gleam with delicate

The renowned Fangjia Hutong.
Fangjia Hutong Primary School stands on the former site of Prince Xun’s residence, the mansion of Yongzhang, the Qianlong Emperor’s third son—Lao She once served as its principal. Courtyard No. 15 was formerly the seat of Beiping’s Jingzhao Yin; Courtyard No. 21 was the residence of Liu Yushu, the puppet mayor during the Japanese occupation; and Courtyard No. 27 was the home of Chen Yanan, the puppet gendarmerie commander during the Japanese occupation. Sai Jinhua and Hong Jun also lived here at first. The ancestral home of Wenxiu, the last imperial consort, was al

The first time I went to the Guozijian was when I was taking the college entrance exam. Dad took me.
Actually, officials usually avoid places like this, because the dismounting stone at the entrance is considered very unlucky.
But clearly, his love for me outweighed all that.
The Guozijian is under renovation now, so there’s really no need to make a special trip. The plaques that people said you could touch to “achieve top honors” when I was a kid are now all cordoned off from visitors.
Just like this society.

The Yongding sea of flowers is breathtaking. My photos don’t do it justice. The real joy is being immersed in it.
Farther along the west bank lies the enormous Garden Expo Park.
The sky hangs low over high mountains and trees; flowers crowd the light riverbank.
My favorite destination this year is western Beijing.
Distant mountains are brocade, dusk blankets the ground. The river’s branching currents carry a hint of Yanjing’s chill.
Amid the far-reaching,清 fragrance, it feels like the ultimate spa.

I had an unexpectedly delicious bowl of luosifen in Wangjing a couple of days ago. Supposedly it’s the first luosifen shop in Beijing.
It really had that old-school luosifen vibe. Spicy enough, too. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was why they didn’t cut the guoshao—it was such a huge piece that I couldn’t finish it.
The wood ear mushrooms and greens were pretty generous, so when I asked to add extra, the staff member said dismissively, “They’re both included, they’re both included.”
The luosifen at Huang Zitao’s place the other day was no good—everyone was trashing it. Trust me, don’t ea

These little daisies I never used to pay any attention to are quite a sight when they bloom in great swathes.
At first, I thought they were buckwheat flowers. They don’t have much of a fragrance, either.
Like a blanket of snow spread beneath the twilight. Oh, it’s Frost’s Descent.
Beijing really has turned chilly. At this time of year, I’d usually be down south and come back when the heat came on. This year, all my card-playing friends are here, so I can’t really leave.
My card-playing friends are, of course, all very important people.

An old man lives in a country cottage, his white hair beneath a humble gate.
When farm work is slack, he calls the neighbors over for a jug of wine.
They chatter beneath the thatched eaves, sitting awhile, then rising again.
His coarse short robe is not shabby; garden greens are surely delicious.
He is always among his children and grandchildren, never once going to the city.
The Five Emperors and Three Kings have, since ancient times, been called Sons of Heaven.
Between taking up arms and yielding with a bow, which, in the end, is right?
If contentment brings joy, how can the fields be scorne

The girls who’ve been dominating at the card table these past few days brought me a cake.
Knowing that most of us have basically given up sugar, they even got a lightly sweet Japanese cake. I still had to look it up on Xiaohongshu to figure out what it was.
For me, their ability to understand this kind of stuff is completely wasted—like a cow chewing on peonies. I tried a little, but it was still too sweet for me. I couldn’t taste any of the craftsmanship or anything; I could taste the flavor of old-fashioned sponge cake, though.
Of course, their thoughtfulness was sweet.

Dancing Gesang flowers. This is also a type of chrysanthemum, called cosmos.
The vast wildflowers of autumn look more abundant than those of spring.
With rosy hues and graceful forms around the wild pond, their fine stems and slender leaves brave the scorching sun.
They dance leisurely with the wind beneath the clear sunlight, sending a path of pure fragrance into the evening cool.
It has been raining these past few days; this magnificent floral display should be the last of the year.
Even plum blossoms will have to wait until next year.

It was supposed to be posted last night—but I went to play mahjong and didn’t get around to it, hahahaha.
We played all night, and I neither won nor lost. I treated everyone to a late-night meal to celebrate—it was that pork-killing dish I can’t eat even one bite of, because they like it—and in the latter half of the night, a sister I’ve known for over 20 years also came over—we’re all family. She really came all this way especially for my birthday, and she won everything. So wonderful.
It was such a lively, fulfilling, warm, and joyful birthday🎂.

Shāzhūcài is just so quintessentially northeastern. I can’t even take one bite. Luckily, there are green peppers.
But that doesn’t stop my card-playing friends from eating it with great relish. They think it’s very authentic.
It feels like the only thing that can bring the diets of these card-playing friends together is Shandong green onions—including seafood, and one thing they can’t eat—the lamb stir-fried with scallions is just incredible. It feels like Shandong green onions and those from other places aren’t even the same species.
I can’t handle anything sour at all, so I have to admire th

Today, my longtime buddy was rendered speechless by a poster, with a thousand words left unspoken.
He sent it to me to look at, and I actually didn’t know what to say either.
But I do understand him. And he understands that I understand him.
No choking back tears—just grinning, facing each other in silence.
Lying drunk on the battlefield—don’t laugh at me; I’ve gone from having no gray hair to becoming a gray-haired beauty.
Twenty-five years have passed.
Twenty-five years of our generation.
All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; like dew, or l

This black jujube tree at the Peking University Red Building absolutely stunned me. First of all, this was the first time I had ever seen a black jujube tree. At the same time, it was also the first time I had ever seen one so laden with fruit.
I’ve seen red dates hanging sparsely on trees, and I’ve also seen begonia trees packed densely with fruit, but fruit hanging so densely, spreading everywhere, golden and plump, almost enough to make one mistake it for persimmons—that was truly extraordinary. What a shame that not even a few fell down and hit me!
This is also a century-old tree.