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I know that my arrival will interrupt Lao Yu's memories if I am not careful. To put it more seriously, it will add unknown fine sand into Lao Yu's rough narrative, but I have to say that I did not mean it. In the summer of 2017, as a tourist, I came to "Shui Mo Ningxi" and met a monk named "Yumu" who had returned to secular life. We visited, chatted, and ate wine and meat together. We also chatted with Siwaniang for a while on the verandah beside Ningxi. When she heard that I was half-understanding about stones with Yamu, she took out her mobile phone calmly and generously, picked out a picture and pointed it out to us. It was a stone dug out of the foundation when their family built a house. She looked very proud. I looked at it carefully for a while and felt that the shape of this stone looked a bit like a Bodhisattva. Of course, I dare not say that the village woman in front of me also has the charm of a Bodhisattva.

Xia Laoyu woke up from his sleep at ten o'clock, pulled on his shoes and walked to the well in the east of the village, where he washed his face and drank some water. There was a stone as big as a millstone beside the well. He sat down and took out his cigarette bag. Nowadays, no one rolls dry cigarettes in the village. The old people over seventy years old are holding Zhongnanhai. If it were not for the divorce, Xia Laoyu would not pick it up again. It's a February day in early spring. Everyone in the village went to the ground to check the moisture. A few sparrows were chirping in the trees. When Xia Laoyu accidentally fell to the well to drink water. Xia Laoyu stared at the mouth of the well in a daze. A pair of young people in the village passed by, holding hands, without even looking at him. When he raised his head, the sparrow flew away. A woman as fat as a bucket walked quickly by the well and looked at the old fish with a strange look. When she saw that the old fish looked at her, he immediately turned his face away. This is the wife of the village accountant Han Erwang.

As the saying goes, if you are ignorant, you will plant seeds in the clear. After Li Yangzai threw the rice into the rice field, he turned around and hurried home. Before he entered the house, he heard his six-year-old grandson shouting one after another, "I'm done with my voice, I'm done with my voice." From a distance, Li Yangzai saw this little guy squatting under some old trees in front of the house with his butt stuck out and a pile of feces under his butt, shouting and playing with a small bug on the ground without raising his head. Li Yangzai also saw his father, who was in his seventies, sitting at the gate and playing with a pair of steel balls to practice his hand strength. His eyes were looking at the peach blossom tree on the side of the house. Like an old scholar who had learned a lot, he sang with a very expressive voice: " Last year, in this door, the peach blossoms reflected each other's faces. I don't know where they are, but the peach blossoms are still smiling in the spring breeze." Li Yangzai dismissed his father's detached attitude of not eating the fireworks of the world and having nothing to do with himself, and walked straight into the house.

At the beginning of the century, rural China was undergoing a far-reaching green revolution. For thousands of years, farmers have cut firewood and gathered grass for heating and cooking, which is almost natural. No one connects it with "energy consumption". Compared with the huge industrial energy of petroleum, coal and electricity, rural energy consumption seems insignificant and no one takes it seriously. People have ignored common sense. Just because rural areas rely on the consumption of bioenergy, the energy supply in rural areas completely depends on nature. With demands increasing day by day, the environment's ability to withstand it is approaching a crisis point. Green mountains and green waters are all in the countryside, which conserves the land and protects the environment. The atmosphere, water, sunshine, and the countryside are their patron saints. Once the rural environment is destroyed, a terrible environmental crisis will inevitably break out.

On the twelfth lunar month day, the mountains were covered with brown and yellow dry wormwood. The snow that had fallen a few days ago was stuck on the mountain trail, making the sound of bones breaking when stepped on. As the New Year is approaching, some people order tofu in the evening, carry a wooden bucket, and use a horse spoon to ladle the slurry water into the steaming iron pot. There was a sound of pigs squealing in the open space in the distance, and people who wanted to see some tofu flocked to that open space. The pig was hung under a pear tree that stretched upward like a dragon's claws, and its disembowelment was opened. A group of children gathered around to play with pig urine. When the little girl named Chou Chou saw a lame man walking down the road carrying a yellow canvas satchel, he shouted: "Dad, grandpa wants you to cut the meat."

On the morning of the 16th day of the first lunar month, we met Chai Xiaoshui again. In Chaiyao Village, everyone will feel that something is missing if they don't see Chai Xiaoshui one day. There is nothing special about Chai Xiaoshui himself. In the plains of eastern Henan, you can easily see such farmers. They are thin, dark-skinned, and have eyes that look like they have just woken up from sleep, but are gentle, bright, and make people feel friendly. But for some reason, whenever Chai Xiaoshui is mentioned, we always have endless topics to talk about. When Chai Xiaoshui appeared at the entrance of the village, he must have a shovel on his shoulder. Wherever Chai Xiaoshui went, as long as the road surface was uneven, he would use the shovel in his hand to dig out soil from nearby, lay it on the low-lying areas, and then trample the new soil firmly and level it. Chai Xiaoshui is a restless person. You can say that Chai Xiaoshui is the labor force of the whole village. Even a three-year-old child can call on him at any time.

Wolf Chengfan's son was bitten by a wolf when Wolf Chengfan was chasing that damn rabbit. The rabbit noticed that someone was quietly approaching it, raised its two pointed ears, and then squatted on the ground, raising its body high and watching the person alertly, ready to escape at any time. At this moment, he raised the shotgun, aimed at the rabbit's front blade and pulled the trigger. There was a "boom", and the smoke from the turret and gun barrel blocked his sight. He quickly tilted his head and saw a cloud of dust rising around the rabbit, and the rabbit was limping out of the smoke and escaping with one leg.

Bitter Oak Valley got its name from the bitter oak tree at the entrance of the village. There are only two families in Kuyugou, one with the surname of Liu and the other with the surname of Lin. It is said that their ancestors were Taiping Army soldiers. After their defeat, they hid in this isolated place in order to escape the pursuit of officers and soldiers. Later, they cut grass and built sheds, opened up mountains and opened up land, and later retained those begging, fleeing, and crazy women, married them, and produced offspring. Just die and marry. By the 1980s, there were still only two families in Kujugou, with a total of four people. There is only a hurdle between the two families. In the upper house lives the Lin family, whose mother's name is Chunlan, and whose son's name is Qingmiao; in the lower house lives the Liu family, whose mother's name is Fengmei and whose daughter's name is Cuiyue. Fengmei and Chunlan are like sisters. They fled the famine together and married to Kujuegou. Unfortunately, their men were both "short-lived ghosts" and they left one offspring and hurriedly "returned to the west". The two sisters had no choice but to rely on each other, help each other, maintain their lives together, and raise their children.

Lao Han has had bad luck in the past five years. The people said it was bad luck. Lao Han originally had a pretty good family. Five years ago, on the sixth day of the sixth lunar month, the only son got married and married a pretty young daughter-in-law. The little daughter-in-law is handsome, hard-working, and has a sweet mouth. There is a father in one mouth and a mother in the other, which makes the old couple feel happy. The old couple is looking forward to having a fat grandson in the next year. But who would have known that one evening in late autumn of this year, my son drove a farm tricycle to deliver goods to a small machinery parts factory in the town. When he came back, it was already dark. At a corner of the road in the west of the town, I was hit by a large truck that was speeding by. The person and the truck were thrown seven or eight meters away and fell into a ditch. The ditch wasn't too deep, but my son was hit by the car and couldn't get up. The big truck didn't even stop and stepped on the accelerator before running away.

My name is Wang Liangliang, and I like to be called this name. But the people in the village don't call me Wang Lianglang, but call me Wang Mute. Yes, I was born unable to speak. My parents took me everywhere to seek medical treatment, but found nothing. This makes them feel sad and angry, always raising their voices and shouting that I am a mute king. People in the village followed suit, including a three-year-old child. Later, there was only one person left in our Nanshan Village who called me Wang Liangliang. That person is Wang Sangong. He is an old bachelor, eighty-nine years old, and there is no remaining tooth in his mouth. However, that waning mouth still calls my name from time to time, making me always believe that one day I will be able to speak loudly, so I like this old bachelor from the bottom of my heart. Therefore, when I pass by Wang Sangong's house, I always hit the trees on the roadside with the whip, stones or other objects in my hand, making a banging sound.

Mr. Lang's surname is Cao and his first name is Dalang. Dalang is 1.8 Meters tall, and he is quite energetic: thin body, straight waist, regular facial features, thick eyebrows and big eyes, big ears, big mouth, and two thick eyebrows that are a bit longer than others. It would be better if his face was shorter - unfortunately, his face is a bit too long. In addition, Lang and donkey have similar pronunciation, so some people call him "Big Donkey" behind his back. Dalang usually speaks in a high-pitched voice and is very popular in the village. He maintained his straight back until 1971, the late period of the Cultural Revolution, when he was kicked to pieces by the then village party secretary. From then on, Dalang's waist never straightened up again. The older people in the village still remember the reason why Dalang was kicked. There is an ancient building in our village, and its builder is Cao Hanlin, a man from our village.

These are the five large north rooms, which were built a year before marrying the second daughter-in-law. This house was originally built by the family for the boss Tian Zhu to marry his wife. Unexpectedly, the second child got married before the eldest child. It's not that the second child deliberately wants to get married before the eldest brother, it's Tian Zhu, the eldest son of the family, who is sincere. Nowadays, girls are engaged, unlike in the past, who just married a young man if he saw that he was honest. Today's girls marry based on which young man is smart. Tian Zhu, the boss of this family, seems to be an unintelligent person at first glance. He has lived in this village for almost thirty years. When he met the girl, he couldn't lift his head. As soon as he met the girl, it was like a golden living treasure appeared in front of his eyes. He kept his head lowered and his face was suppressed. His face was so red that he was either about to hit someone or was hit by someone. The boss doesn't follow trends either. He only had two coats. He took off this one and replaced it with that one. Both of them were worn to the point of being worn out. The boss is concentrating like this, still thinking about marrying a wife one day.

The deputy county magistrate gave him two cows to help him get rid of poverty and become rich. Unexpectedly, the cow became sick and he couldn't even pay for the cow's medical treatment. What should he do? He was in a dilemma about the choice between poverty alleviation and cattle raising, but in the end he found an ingenious way to deal with it. What was it? I took two team members, Shen Jianguang and Xie Yunyun, to the bureau's poverty alleviation point. After dinner, I walked out of Hekou Village alone, keeping in mind the two cows given by Deputy County Magistrate Liu. Deputy County Magistrate Liu is in charge of agricultural and rural work. Before the Spring Festival, he spent 3,000 yuan out of his own pocket to ask comrades from the animal husbandry department of the bureau to go to Henan to buy back two cow calves. They made a special trip to Hekou Village and handed them over to the poor family He Zhaoye.

In the spring of 1994, I was transferred from the Organization Department of the Provincial Party Committee to Changshan City as deputy secretary of the Municipal Party Committee. On the second day after taking office, I went downstairs to familiarize myself with the situation. Among the six counties under the city's administration, I chose Licheng first because I participated in the "Four Cleanup" movement there thirty years ago. I have indelible memories and longings for those years, and my desire to revisit my hometown is naturally very strong and prominent. The streets in the county are no longer the cross-shaped streets of the past, nor are they narrow, short, low-lying and uneven streets; there are wide and flat asphalt roads with five vertical and five horizontal directions, rows of unique buildings, parks with lush flowers and trees that are pleasant all year round, and lively and bustling scenes with busy traffic, all of which make it difficult for me to find the shadow of the small town back then.

Jincheng City, located at the top of Taihang City, has been home to outstanding people since ancient times. It is one of the birthplaces of Chinese civilization and is known as the "Hometown of Coal and Iron". Thousands of years have passed, and the sea has changed. From an inconspicuous small city in the past, it has developed into a thriving modern city. Especially in the past 20 years since it was changed to a prefecture-level city in 1985, Jincheng has undergone earth-shaking changes: from 8 square kilometers at the beginning of the city's founding, it expanded to 26 square kilometers in one fell swoop. The urban population also increased from 100,000 to 310,000, like a bright pearl embedded in the land of southeastern Shanxi.

Starting from Hami, the first oasis in eastern Xinjiang, passing through Shanshan, Turpan, Urumqi, and ending in Karamay. The journey is not too long, but it is not too short either. The length is just as long as the human body can bear. Wandering all the way, being egged on by gas stations all the time. Those uniform red commas connect a long sentence together, closely focusing on the central word oil, and the meaning of the sentence cannot be clearer. Yes, oil is everywhere today. When they lurk underground, they are like dormant snakes. Once they break through the earth's crust and rush out, they wrap tightly around the neck of humans. With a force that cannot be argued or hesitated, they powerfully stir up a whirlwind. Its power is like the ripples in a washing machine, and the whole world is saturated with it. My journey was upstream, heading towards Karamay, the birthplace of oil.

In the early morning of spring, when my mother opened the door and looked up at the sky, she saw colorful clouds floating on the top of Damiao Mountain. The glow filled the top of Damiao Mountain brilliantly. A pair of larks flew diagonally over the dense tallow trees on the mountain ridge and landed on the thousand-year-old cypress and redbud trees in front of the ancient temple. My mother suddenly became happy. She smiled and said, "What a great day." The mother's face looked even more charming under the glow of the glow. My mother is preparing to go up the mountain to offer incense. As soon as they finished eating, my mother led Zhuer up the mountain. The temple is not far from home, the straight-line distance is only four or five miles. But the mountain road is rugged, and the journey is detoured as soon as you enter and exit, and you have to walk for a while. The sedan chair can only stop in front of the mountain gate, and people have to climb up the stairs. It was the beginning of spring and there were many pilgrims coming and going.

Don't think that I am ugly, don't think that I am rustic, don't think that I am not good at speaking, and don't think that I carry the earthy smell of the Qinba Mountains around me. I look at the world through the eyes of a poet. As long as there is some poetry in the world, I can grab it and penetrate it into all kinds of colors. Nothing else is good, that's all I have. Therefore, my friends who deal with me increasingly feel that I am a decent person and that I am a smart and trustworthy person. They like to treat me like old wine. This is how old wine tastes to me. Being happy with friends is one of the most basic pleasures in life. So I take it very seriously. However, it won't work as soon as June enters. The children have a happy festival and leave all their troubles and paleness to the adults. Life is like a piece of dry land, not to mention that it cannot grow good crops, and even grass does not grow.

As soon as the Qingming Festival passed, the weather stabilized, the wind no longer blew as hard as it did a while ago, and the sun no longer hid in the clouds as it did a while ago. As long as it popped up from the distant mountains, it hung so brightly on the horizon, illuminating the vast mountainous field brightly. Mozi felt that his body was getting a little warm. The miller bent over, stuck out his butt, and buried his head in hoeing in his wheat field. Miso - miso - miso - Mozi drooped his two huge ears, and he clearly heard the crisp sound of the hoe blade cutting grass roots and other debris in the soil. This sound seemed to be a kind of retribution to him, and it invisibly added some strength to him. He moved his arms and carefully but powerfully pulled the hoe handle, letting the hoe surface sink into the soil between the rows of wheat, pull, cut, run, and recover...

When I was a child, people in our countryside talked about Changzhi and called it Lu'an Prefecture. They said it was a very big place. In those days, transportation was inconvenient and few people in the village had ever entered the city. If someone came back from Lu'an Mansion and people gathered around him to listen to what he had seen, that person would be somewhat proud. In the early spring of 1953, when I was twelve years old, my uncle took me to Changzhi, and I left my hometown in Wuxiang at that time. When I set out on the road, I was very excited, but also confused, not knowing how far I would go. I climbed up slopes, climbed over beams, and walked through villages. The names of those villages were very interesting, such as "Zhangzhanggou" and "Luoluowa". By noon, my legs were sore and my excitement had long gone. I remember that I arrived at Xialiang Village in Xiangyuan County and stopped at a small roadside restaurant. I sat down and didn't want to get up.

In the no-man's land of Hoh Xil, between the sky and the earth, there is a cluster of colorful flowers flying through the morning fog. The cluster of flowers was getting closer and closer... And with the sound of "tap-tat-tat"... A rapid sound of horse hooves, the audience finally saw clearly a fierce Tibetan hunter holding a whip and riding a strong dappled horse galloping on the top of the grass. This man has a thick beard, long flowing hair, long Tibetan boots, a fork gun on his back, and hares and snow chickens hanging on the saddle. Subtitles: Hunter No one knows his name. Narrator: "No matter spring, summer, autumn or winter, saints who travel through Hoh Xil to Lhasa for pilgrimage can always see a fierce hunter riding a light gray piebald horse wandering in the desert, heading towards the snow in the north of Tibet, and staying at the source of the Yellow River.

Viewed from a height, the Liujia River looks like a silver thread falling from the sky, tightly connecting the upper and lower Liu families. The water of Liujia River is clear and bright. It is rare to see it become turbid unless there is heavy rain and flooding. The people who live in the Shangliu family and the Xialiu family are all surnamed Liu. The Shangliu family and the Xialiu family are separated by four mountains, a journey of eight or nine miles around the winding mountain road. The Liujia River winds around four mountains and makes thirteen turns. There are several large rocks on each bend, standing proudly like a wall. Over the years, the river water has washed them round and smooth, but they cannot be shaken. Just like the stubborn personality of the Liu family up and down the Liujia River, as long as the truth is correct, they must stick to it.

On the evening when my female neighbor was molested, I, like most of my neighbors, did not know her true identity. The name is Jinxiu, a name that sounds very rustic and grand after thinking about it. When I heard someone calling her, pictures of great mountains and rivers and a great future popped into my mind. He is also open-minded and doesn't look like he comes from the countryside. I moved into Liushuyan a few years ago and rented a house from a meat seller in a vegetable market. You can't tell her age, she can't hear her accent, and her Mandarin is of unknown origin. When he spoke, he gritted his teeth a little, and his mandible swayed a little, making the generous and soft face appear charming. I often meet her when I go out after get off work. She held a bag in her hand and her hair was neatly combed into a bun. The bun was smooth, strong and elegant. I tried it several times but couldn't figure it out.

In the depths of Baiyangdian, is it the infinite scenery in the memory of a Toronto painter, or is it an elegy for the fate of a group of boys and girls from a water town? Is it a haven for life or a habitat for the soul? Facing the boundless water waves, the author gives us an inner feeling as lush as reeds... In my studio in Toronto, friends and gallery owners come in and out, and the paintings on the wall are also changed. There is only one small painting, always staying in a corner. Its background is a field of reeds in the Netherlands, with a Chinese village girl sitting in front of the reeds. "Netherlands" comes from "Netherlands", and the Chinese should really be translated as "quagmire". The God of the swamp must be a woman, like the woman in Vermeer's painting, dragging a fat and heavy cotton skirt, shrouding her territory and people in mist.

Lan Jing lives dormant in Yangping Village, his hometown, and must look at the mountains in the morning and evening. Look in the morning glow. When looking at the sunset in the evening, of course, it is inevitable to make a pot of oolong tea and sip, watch and taste it. The mountain is called Feixianyan, with an altitude of more than 800 meters. Although it is not the highest mountain in the county, Lan Jing feels that it is the king of mountains in the county. It is said to be the king of mountains because the entire mountain contains nearly 100 million cubic meters of granite stone, accounting for one-twentieth of the county's reserves. That granite is yellow, and yellow stone is the mainstream of current and future market consumption. The mountain is exposed, and the rocks are spread out and stand tall, like pieces of rice cake that can be broken off and eaten. The stone cliffs on the top of the mountain are the images of flying immortals created by nature, like Li Tieguai, like Lu Dongbin, and like He Xiangu. Although there are no Eight Immortals, they all have the same appearance and spirit, lifelike, and often appear.

It was getting late, and the chickens that had stayed overnight had already jumped onto the low branches, chattering quietly. Niu'er lay down slowly and stupidly, raising his head and pouring foam contentedly, making the corners of his mouth look like he had just brushed his teeth with toothpaste. The horse disdained the cow's laziness, stood strong, sneezed, and fell asleep wagging its lush ponytail. Zhuang Zhou's family had no cattle, no horses, not even a chicken. In the humid room, a few Fuliangzi were hiding somewhere and chirping. When the lamp was turned on, Fu Liangzi stopped barking. Fu Liangzi doesn't bark because they are used to it. In the past, they also screamed when Zhuang Zhou lit the lamp. Zhuang Zhou couldn't stand reading, so he picked up a broom and looked around for him, hoping to kill him. Fu Liangzi later understood and stopped singing when the lights came on, so that Zhuang Zhou could have a quiet study environment.

In the 1980s, there was a hunting village deep in the Daxingan Mountains. "Let me tell you, I don't care about what happened between you and Varoki in school before, but when you enter the forest and come to our hunting village, you have to behave yourself and stop having those thoughts. Otherwise, I, Greena, am not a woman to be trifled with." Greena stopped and glanced back at Chi Yu. Chi Yu followed breathlessly. She was disgusted and embarrassed when Greena spoke to her like this. She slowed down and said, "Glina, you are so weird. Why do you always think so? I have said before, Varoki and I are really normal, nothing happened." Chi Yu spread his hands, and she really didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Li Tiande's jelly stall has truly become an eye-catching sight on the streets of this small mountainous county. When people come here, they can't help but search for it with their eyes. As you get closer, whether you want to eat the jelly or not is another matter, but you have to stand aside and watch. Take a look at the polished and shiny jelly bag and the white and shiny dumplings, smell the fragrance of spicy oil and the refreshing smell of mustard, say a few words to Li Tiande, who is wearing a white hat and white coat, or smile lightly and say hello, and then slowly walk away. Some people have gone a long way and still turn around to take a look. When he was in his twenties, he took on the responsibility of making jelly for more than thirty years. His jelly stall has been on this street for more than 30 years. Because his home is close to the county seat.

N years ago, there was a severe drought in Shuizhen. There was no rain for half a year. The villagers were dying and running away. On the day I was born, it suddenly started pouring rain. Before I was born, the earth was scorching, and the sun, the tyrant in the sky, was baking the earth wantonly. All the rivers had dried up, and there were cracks in the earth. People were dying on the earth. All they could do was pray and wait for the blessing of the gods. The father knelt on the ground and said, God, please let it rain, save my wife, save my son. The entire water town resounded with people's cries of blood, God, please let it rain, save us... Save us... But those voices became smaller and smaller, and finally disappeared into the dust.

A head of cabbage was auctioned for 100 yuan. Two acres of organic vegetables received an order worth 50,000 yuan. When organic farming encounters soil pollution, will everything reverse as dramatically as it does? As soon as the plow passed, my uncle hurriedly grabbed a handful of soil and smelled it. The warm and refreshing fragrance of the soil made my uncle's stomach wriggle unexpectedly, as if he could just eat the soil in his hand. Rubbing it with his hands again, he saw that the soil was soft and easy to disperse. Then my uncle spit out the date core with a "pop" and blurted out, "Great!" In this way, my aunt smiled like the newly plowed land in front of her, and she felt that the good days of the rest of her and my uncle's lives had begun.

Sega doesn't understand why Tibetan folks in rural towns call public officials "Lere". "Lere" translated into Chinese means "someone who has something to do". This title classifies many people without public office, including themselves, as idlers. He also couldn't figure out why they described people who were neatly dressed or fair-looking as "like Han Chinese", as if they could draw conclusions about the differences between the two ethnic groups based on their appearance of being dirty and ugly. With their habitual humbleness, family members and fellow villagers made Sega set such a life goal from the first day of school: to become a "Lere" "like the Han people". On the day when she graduated from junior high school and received the admission notice from the Finance and Trade Vocational School, Sega suddenly had a "Lere" mentality that was once out of reach - the scenery she was used to before seemed to be more colorful. When you look up at Bam Mountain, which is backed by the village, your heart will drift to the other side of the mountain unconsciously.

The soil and water support a person, and Zhang Yuquan grew up eating pasta since he was a child. Among all the pastas, noodles were his favorite, but Zhang Yuquan did not truly understand the significance of noodles to his life until he went to work in the south. After leaving home, he couldn't get rid of homesickness and felt uncomfortable. In fact, he was not afraid of being tired and miserable, but the brown rice eaten day after day at the construction site was really hard to swallow, making his stomach rough all day long. His stomach was connected to his heart, and his heart felt uncomfortable when his stomach was not in good condition. Gradually, he realized that it was not so much missing home, but to a certain extent, he really missed the slippery noodles that moisturized his heart, lungs and intestines. Or on the other hand, wanting to eat noodles became a way for him to express his nostalgia. Later, he ran to the north. He was still tired and bitter, but people in the north liked to eat noodles together.

Li Yulan is back, which is a big event in Yandeng Village. The day she came back, it rained a little. She jumped up and down on the muddy village road in Yandeng Village. Many people have seen this scene. They saw Li Yulan carrying a red leather suitcase, her buttocks twisted tightly. At that time, Li Yulan's family were planting rice seedlings in the fields. It's June. Almost everyone in Yandeng Village is planting rice. In fact, many people saw Li Yulan, but they deliberately pretended not to see it. So basically no one greeted Li Yulan. Li Yulan's father, Old Man Li, and brother, Li Mingyi, bowed their waists deeply. While planting rice seedlings, they wished they could use their heads as rice seedlings and plant them in the mud. Only Li Yulan's sister-in-law Lin Xiaoqin straightened up. Lin Xiaoqin shook off the muddy water on her hands and said, Sister Yulan, come back. Li Yulan raised her voice and replied, "I went back to my sister-in-law, who was planting rice seedlings."

People in our place like to call county secretaries and county magistrates magistrates. No one can explain clearly how many ideas and contents this contains. I stood at the door of the newly arrived magistrate and knocked softly three times: Dong Dong Dong. The magistrate's voice came from inside: Please come in. I pushed the door open and entered the house, nodding to the magistrate: Lin County, you are looking for me... Magistrate Lin took out a cigarette from a box of Soft China without even looking at me. I saw a lighter on the magistrate's desk. I should take the initiative to pick up the lighter and light it for him.

Fox Town is close to the mountains and forests, but far away from the sea. Many people in Fox Town have never seen the sea at all, let alone crabs in the sea. Juzi is considered a worldly person in Fox Town. Not only has she seen the sea, but she has also seen crabs in the sea. Not only has she seen crabs, she has also brought it home to Fox Town. In fact, even without the crab, Juzi was one of the best women in Fox Town. Juzi works in the town government. Although she is only a cook in the town government, she is also a public servant. There are not many such women in Fox Town. What's more important is that Juzi's men work in Dalian, which is rare among the men in Fox Town. Although they just got married this year, Juzi's man Sixi left, but when they thought that Sixi would take a lot of money home when he returned home, people felt that it was worth it for Juzi to stay alone in the empty house.

On the ridge path, Chen Zhongwen, an educated youth who jumped in the queue, stood under an old pine tree and looked far into the distance. In the field of vision, the rivers and villages in the distance, as well as the nearby woods, flowers and plants, gradually lose their strong political color, and everything appears so fresh, natural and simple. It can be seen from his expression that Chen Zhongwen is completely dominated by a curious heart at this moment. Indeed. In the 1970s, my hometown, Runcaizhuang, looked like a simple and elegant ink landscape painting to this male educated youth who had just arrived and had a foundation in ancient literature. The mountain where Chen Zhongwen stood is the remnant of Daze Mountain, and its name is Qingfeng Mountain. It is like a huge and ancient copper lock that completely separates the inside and outside of the mountain.

Everything is dead. This is the quietest night since the village was founded in Snail Lake. There is no noise, no hustle and bustle, no children crying, no pigs braying. The village dotted with stars is particularly peaceful, as peaceful as a still painting, so peaceful that even the dog fell asleep. People in their dreams are immersed in the sweetness and happiness of sleeping. It is in this state that dreams enter people's world; dreams are beautiful, happy, lustful, charming, like a little girl who loves to move. Just like a thirsty person gets a bottle of cold beer, a very tired person takes a hot spring bath, and a passionate lover embraces happiness; a dreamer cannot extricate himself from the dream and allows the dream to walk in the body and massage every organ. Is the dream a messenger from heaven? Or has the dream replaced the entire world, the entire universe? No one knows, because everything else ceases to exist, only dreams.

When my mother makes shoes, she first pastes old pieces of cloth on the back of the chopping board to dry, and then cuts the shoe pattern according to the size of the shoe. Often at this time, grandma will come. Grandma stood outside with the door curtain open and looked, mostly silent. If she needs to say something, grandma will move her little feet, step over the high threshold and come in, then move to the pot stand, put her hand on the hot pot lid to warm it, and then half stand and half crawl like that, say a few words that need to be said, and often leave slowly with a giggle after speaking. In our place, grandma is not mother's mother. Mother's mother, we call grandma. Grandma is Qiu Shui's grandmother in the courtyard next door. Because Qiu Shui's family is older, many people and I call her grandma. Qiu Shui's family was always in a good situation, and they often ate white flour and white steamed buns. This is my most vivid memory of his family. Of course, apart from the white flour steamed buns, I also vaguely remember some other things.

The sun has set, and the high fever on the earth is receding. A few cicadas are hiding in the Vajra tree beside the weir and chirping. After the Dragon Boat Festival, it was sunny for more than 10 consecutive days. It was so sunny that it almost caused inflammation in summer. Liu Guifen's vegetable garden began to show its weather during this season. Cucumbers, lentils, and bitter melons all climbed up along the supports. A few cucumber vines were not climbed up, and they were swaying in the wind. The flowers were blooming luxuriantly, and golden blossoms were blowing out like trumpets. Look carefully, there are several vines, and the melons are already slightly erect. The lentils have also bloomed, lavender, and the flowers are drooping, as if shy. The bitter melon is still early, and the eggplant has just budded. A few butterflies are very attentive, and they dart among the yellow flowers and the purple flowers. This can be regarded as the end of the moon, but it is only half a step away from a good harvest. Liu Guifen was pulling cloves in the vegetable garden, and even though she was sweating, her heart was bright.

That year, when I was transferred from a remote rural middle school to the creative department of the county cultural bureau, Mr. Diao had already been in the department for more than 20 years. Master Diao has long been a well-known figure! I have heard some gossip before, saying that he is a cliché among foreigners, a foreigner among the clichés; that he has hundreds of sets of sunglasses of various styles and hundreds of pairs of fashionable new leather shoes; some people also say that he is a cunning fox cook, a green and crappy person; and he has a well-spoken mouth and a mouthful of spicy soup! Although I was mentally prepared, I was still a little surprised when I actually saw him: He was short in stature, and his complexion was as dark as his teeth; he wore a dark wide-brimmed hat and a pair of snow-white Nike loafers. My immediate impression is, where is the creative director? He is clearly a gangster boss! "Girl, you're here, okay! I, the section chief, have been a polished commander for decades, and finally I was assigned a Ma Bianzi, and it's a girl! Haha!"

There is almost no word about it in all Tang poems, which is incredible in a cultural era of great landscapes. In the Yellow River poems written by Li Bai, who was known for his boldness and indulgence and would never let go of great things in his life, the mouth of the Hukou is also blank. The reason must be found from geology. On the contrary, Hejin Longmen, which is not far away - 65 kilometers downstream, is quite famous in Tang poetry, and must be mentioned when talking about the Yellow River. What's even more interesting is that it is also called the Dizhu Mountain, which is located further downstream - more than 200 kilometers away. The name of the Dizhu Mountain is connected with Sanmenxia, ​​which is famous in Chinese and foreign geography.

When Yu went out with a hoe, he met the village chief Peng. Peng said, Mr. Yu, you have to go to Wakou Village for a meeting. The elm said that I won't go. The grass in the bean field is howling and growing, so I have to take care of it. Peng said that there is a meeting to elect the township head. You are a deputy to the National People's Congress. What job can you do if you don't go? Yu said who elected me to be the representative? Peng said, Mr. Yu, you talked drunkenly so early in the morning, and you were the representative three days ago. Yu said, I won't go either. It's a hot day, it rains, and the grass grows wildly. Will you finish the autumn rations for me? The village chief said there would be food and wine at noon, and he would also give out souvenirs. Yu said: Go. The poisonous sun stings people's scalp; the dry wind turns into heat and steams people. The ceiling fan in the township meeting room whirred, but there was no cooling effect. Yu walked around the house and saw several young people playing cards. He didn't recognize them, so he walked out again and went to the courtyard under the shade of the trees. Among the crowd, he saw an old man from a neighboring village who he knew well. He leaned forward and said: Have you eaten, two? The second one said he didn't eat, but had eaten at noon.

After the white dew, Taoshu dreamed back to her childhood for three consecutive nights. Dreams with such a long span were rare for her. In the past, she always had some regular dreams, the kind of dreams that made her think about something day and night. For example, if you talk to someone about traveling during the day, you dream about being on a train at night, watch a police movie during the day, and dream about chasing thieves in a car at night... It's reasonable and has a source. But the dreams of these three nights were completely different. Some distant and unfamiliar scenes poured into the dream, and some distant and unfamiliar characters appeared one after another. She even smelled the fishy smell of the canal water, and there was a hint of intimacy in the smell. She almost wanted to grab a handful with both hands and drink it...

Hometown is beautiful. For thousands of years, the hometown has become a place of spiritual and emotional sustenance for outsiders. For me, my hometown is the root of my life and the source of my emotions. Even though I have been studying abroad for many years, my concern and longing for my hometown have not diminished at all. No matter how busy I am, I try to go home and stay for a while during the holidays every year. What surprises me is that in recent years, I have found that my desire to go home is not as strong as before. For me, my hometown seems to have an invisible barrier. As for where this barrier comes from, it is hazy before my eyes. I have to admit that the romantic imagination of my hometown in my youth was certainly one of the important reasons for my change in mentality, but her changes in the past ten years are indeed shocking.

A sensational hit in the United States! Booker Prize finalist! Along with "The Kite Runner" and "The Da Vinci Code", it was selected into the Guardian's "Books That Defined the World of the Decade" list. We will travel to many places in our life, but there is only one place called hometown. This is the story of a young man chasing his dreams and then being shattered. Changazi, who grew up in Pakistan, was admitted to Princeton University at the age of eighteen and worked at a prestigious consulting firm in New York after graduation. During a trip, he fell in love with an upper-class American girl. However, all this was destroyed by the sudden September 11th incident. He experiences identity confusion and faith struggles, and his work and love are also affected. On the other side of the earth, his homeland is facing the threat of war. Years later, in a teahouse in his hometown of Lahore, Changazi told all this to a mysterious stranger. And their fates are unknowingly intertwined...

Cao Xiangrong, female, teacher, member of Shanxi Writers Association. Started publishing essays in 1995. "The Stilling Moon", "Memory of Books", and "Walnut" were published in "Chinese Prose", Issue 9, 1999, Issue 9, 2000, and Issue 4, 2002 respectively. The collection of essays "The Fading Moon" was published by China Overseas Chinese Publishing House in 2001. Started writing novels in 2003. In 2004, two articles, "Mud Whistle" and "Women in Alley Hutongs", were published simultaneously in the fifth issue of "Yellow River". The novella "Mud Whistle" was selected into the "Selected Novels" that year, and was the first article in the 12th issue (second half of the month). In 2005, "Mud Whistle" won the "Yanmen Cup" Outstanding Novel Award from Yellow River Magazine. On the granite slope, people flowed like a sea, going up and down, and people's faces were smiling. The whole village of Gamashi had no choice but to eat at Zhang Ergou's house all day long. Today, Zhang Ergou's family has a big event, his mother's eightieth birthday.

The village in my hometown is very small, surrounded by steep and towering purple mountains, with a few wisps of light clouds brushing against the tops of the mountains. The houses in the mountain ring are surrounded by layers of trees, and the courtyards are covered with mottled golden shades of flowers. There is a trapezoidal road paved with stone slabs, which winds around the mountain in the shadow of trees. When you get to the mountain pass, you can't see any trace. There is only a blue sky, mirror-like embedded in the two walls of the mountain pass. My hometown is old and closed inside, but outside the mountains there is great temptation. There is a school outside the mountain pass. The walls of such a large courtyard are painted extremely white; there is also a line of extremely glorious red letters, and a procession looks like a majestic and high-spirited line on the wall. There was a very old persimmon tree in the courtyard, with holes as big as the mouth of a pot already carved out of its dark trunk. The skinny student stepped in and was instantly hidden.

The road back to my hometown is the road to visit and find my mother. In the local dialect, it means that the chicken is on the shelf and the baby is looking for (waking up) his mother. This mother is called Nia in our local people. This is the right way to pronounce it. You will become a baby, no matter how big an official you are outside, even if you become an emperor and return to your hometown, you will just be a tall baby and a baby with big balls. From far away, you will hear your Nia shouting long and short in the deep ravines of the Loess Plateau: Come back! Gouwa is back! Come back and drink bean and rice soup. Your tears rolled down in big pieces, just like the big white beans you pressed (mother) into the rice soup in the pot.

Liu Yanyan: Born in Handan in 1968. After graduating from the journalism major, she worked in a magazine. Her works include "Flower of Femininity" and other works. She is a member of the Hebei Provincial Writers Association. If given a choice between pain and no pain, I would choose pain. --William Falco. What I Was. I love to say the word "once upon a time".