刚从苔岩下汲来的清泉在水壶中烧开了花。萱儿把盆放在院子中间的木架上。盆是白瓷质的,盆底有三条小鱼嬉戏在波纹里。茶叶是她精挑细选的,一根一根铺在盆底,然后把开了花的水缓缓注入盆中。蜷缩的叶子与滚开的山泉水交融在一起,羞涩地舒展开来。只一会儿,水便被细芽嫩叶染绿了,满世界的春色都融进了瓷盆,盆的边缘浮绕着碧绿的氤氲。她把脸探进这氤氲,那就像他的手暖暖的,柔柔的。“你的头发有春天的味道。”她闭上眼仿佛感觉到他的手在抚摸着自己,他的 Fresh spring freshly drawn from the rock under the rocks boiled flowers in the kettle. Xuan children put the pot in the middle of the yard wooden frame. Pot is white porcelain, pelvic floor there are three small fish play in the ripples. Tea is her handpicked, one by one in the bottom of the basin, and then the blooming water slowly into the basin. Huddled leaves and rolled spring water blend together, shy to stretch open. For a moment, the water was dyed green by the fine buds of young leaves, and the spring colors of the world melted into the porcelain basin, the edges of the pot floating around the turquoise 氤 氲. She swallowed her face into the grubby, as if his hand were warm and tender. “Your hair has a spring taste. ” She closed her eyes as if feeling his hand touching himself, his