The day Xia Yi returned to his hometown in Shancheng happened to be the beginning of summer. The cicadas began to chirp noisily, and his grandfather took advantage of the cool morning to dig in the ground, carrying a hoe. The first thing he said when he saw him was: "What are you doing when you come back?"
Xia Yi: "I miss you."
Grandpa Xia paused for two seconds and pointed to the precious ground at his feet: "That's just right. Pull out the grass."
Xia Yi came back from Nancheng. I have been a project manager for several years, working from 9 to 5, day after day. Grandpa Xia happened to be sick, so he handed in his resignation and came back with his suitcase.
Xu Xingshen arrived three months earlier than him.
He is a sophomore at the Capital Conservatory of Music. He took a break from school and came back to find inspiration. The first time they met was at the entrance of the village. The brakes of Xu Xingshen's battery car failed. Xia Yi passed by and wanted to help him, but they both fell into a field.
Later, they became familiar with each other, often causing trouble for Grandpa Xia, and occasionally bickering.
Life seems to be good, Xia Yi thought.
He originally planned to go back next spring, but life in the mountain city was so nurturing that he stayed for the entire summer and autumn. Later, his grandfather asked him when he would leave. He thought for a while and then thought of Xu Xingshen: "In autumn."
Later, Xia Yi found a wooden board from nowhere, stood it on the ground, and wrote eight words crookedly: Do not pick it without permission.
Xu Xing squatted down to look at the melon seedlings and glanced at him: "Your handwriting is really ugly."
Xia Yi said, "I didn't write it for you."
Xu Xingshen said nothing.
Spring is here.
Xu Xingshen
Slow-paced farming essay
Purpose: live a good life