"Ah ha ha ha ha! Teacher, come quickly," a swarthy little boy shouted beside the fire.
I came back to my senses and replied: "Here you go, you have grilled the fish, it's really awesome."
"Yes, teacher, we have been baking for a long time, teacher, you have been in a daze." The swarthy little boy said, blinking his big eyes, full of doubts in his eyes.
I looked at him. The swarthy boy's name was Wu Jun. He was a student I taught in Guizhou. "Teacher was thinking about something and accidentally forgot about it. I'm sorry, Wu Jun, for making you worry."
"Teacher, are you homesick? Mom said that when you miss home, you will look into the distance." "Teacher is a little homesick, but the teacher is thinking about the past." Xiao Wu Jun tilted his head and thought for a moment and said, "Then what was the teacher's past like?"
My past, I looked at the mountains in the distance and fell into deep thought. What was my past like?
Concept: Stories come from life