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"Spring": Yu Xiuhua, Professor Li Bo is Yangchun Baixue, I am a Xia riba

author:It's really hard to be honest

"Spring": Yu Xiuhua, Professor Li Bo is Yangchun Baixue, I am a Xia riba

"Spring": Yu Xiuhua, Professor Li Bo is Yangchun Baixue, I am a Xia riba

Yu Xiuhua sent a short article to explain the interaction with Professor Li Bo: Because Li Bo was stormed by the Internet, I really couldn't see it, and I stood up to the professor, and I made an appointment. Later, people said that Li Bo and I played with self-depreciation, in fact, I would not necessarily play with Li Bo, I played with mud, people played with porcelain.

Yu Xiuhua has always been proud, what professors do not teach, nor how high-minded, but Professor Li Bo is highly praised for her, saying that her poetry does not waste the ancient flow of the Yangtze River, which makes Yu Xiuhua flattered, although Professor Li Bo left the network, concentrated on teaching students, no longer set foot on network literature, Yu Xiuhua still admires him.

"Spring": Yu Xiuhua, Professor Li Bo is Yangchun Baixue, I am a Xia riba

At the same time, Yu Xiuhua is also a very inferior person, before becoming famous, she saw beggars on the street, reached out to get a few dollars, you can buy buns to eat, she also tried, but found that her knees can not kneel, can only give up, and later she told reporters, I just can't kneel.

Yes, Yu Xiuhua, who is at the grassroots level, just can't kneel, even if she later entered the Writers Association, she was fired because of stiff knees, and later encountered a network attack, she never flinched, always fought back in the past, even if she was rude, was called a shrew, and did not care, she was such a lower riba, willful, self-respect.

"Spring": Yu Xiuhua, Professor Li Bo is Yangchun Baixue, I am a Xia riba

Finally, with one of her poems, to end: When spring returns, the one who should come will come, you and I will grow old in a warm watershed, the fish flow by, we do not know each other, but we know each other, their bodies refract the light, as our past, oh, our past,

Spring comes to us again and again, making shallow nests, and the seeds that have been planted have not waited for summer to be turned over by birds and finches, but you forgive such accidents again and again, and love them with normalcy, along with this spring, wrapped in compassion.

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