在一千两百多年前的唐朝,有个叫张继的读书人。有一年,他进京赶考。一开始,他信心满满,踌躇满志,然而等到放榜那天,榜单上却没有他的名字。羞惭沮丧的张继低着头离开京城,来到了苏州。一晚,他踏上小舟,泊于封桥之下。岸上红叶如火,江上渔火点点,寒山寺的钟声自凝重的空气中一声声地传来。这无眠的一夜,张继将自己的愁思化成了千古绝唱: In the Tang Dynasty more than 1200 years ago, there was a scholar called Zhang Ji. One year, he went to Beijing to take the exam. At first, he was full of confidence and complacent, but on the day of his release, there was no name on the list. Shame depressed Zhang Jizhan left the capital, came to Suzhou. One night, he set foot on the boat, parked under the bridge. Red leaves on the shore like a fire, fishing on the river a little bit, Hanshan Temple bells cling to the air from the heavy noise came. This sleepless night, Zhang Ji will be his sadness turned into eternal songsticks: