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A group of sisters-in-law surrounded Ling Fang, like colorful waves surrounding a light sail. One wave surged here and another surged there. Ling Fang was like a general commanding thousands of troops, with a high-spirited face. Occasionally, she would look towards the door, and a trace of sadness flashed across her cheeks. There was a voice in the sadness that kept saying, I wish you could come, come! I built this place purely for you! How could you not come and see it? I live for you all my life! I want you to know even if I have some achievements, even though I sometimes hate you...

Xiao Jianguo was born on the bank of the Han River in 1970 and now lives on the bank of the Dongjiang River. He writes novels in his spare time. In recent years, he has published more than 100 short stories and novels in provincial newspapers and periodicals such as Tianjin Literature, Yangtze River Literature and Art, and Zhanghui Novels. Some short stories have been reprinted by "Novel Monthly", and some novellas have been adapted into movie scripts. I had just turned six when my father came back from the army. On that day, our family was as lively as the Chinese New Year. Early in the morning, my mother pulled me out of bed. It was early spring, the sky was bright, and except for the annoying rooster that kept crowing, even the sun hadn't shown its face yet. Naturally, I couldn't bear to leave the warm bed. I was like a naked fish, dodging my mother's extended hand left and right on the bed. Mother said, stop making trouble and get up quickly, your father is coming back today.

Ding Jie Niu is weeding Bao Gu in his own land. Ding Jie Niu wore a flat-brimmed straw hat on his head, the hem of his white shirt was tucked into his trousers, and he was barefoot. His sleeves and trouser legs were rolled up, making him look smart and smart. Among the farmers in Hongtugou, he looked a little unusual. In order to save money, farmers in this area have never been willing to wear straw hats. They also rarely wear white shirts because they are intolerant of getting dirty. Ding Jie Niu has his own set of opinions. He believes that buying a straw hat costs only a few dollars, but it can block the sun and ultraviolet rays for a long time and reduce the probability of skin cancer. It is very cost-effective. As for the white shirt that is not resistant to stains, is a black shirt resistant to stains? In fact, no matter whether it is a white shirt or a black shirt, the degree of stain resistance is the same, but the black shirt is darker and cannot be seen with the eyes. Animals like humans are really good at deceiving themselves.

At this time, the sun has set on the horizon, and the rays of light in the western sky are as gorgeous as a watercolor painting. The breath of dusk was slowly spreading, and a black truck in the distance was like a fast squirming insect, spitting out a stream of gray-white smoke, and disappeared from sight again with a squeaking sound. A truck lost its memory, treating itself like a rocket, roaring across the narrow road behind it. The rising dust filled the air and formed a vast banner, which faded away reluctantly after a long time. The surroundings suddenly became quiet, with no dogs barking or urchins playing or crying. The noise at dusk suddenly receded into a very distant place. Mi Qiu was a little dazed, as if she was crossing from one world to another. The clear sky and green mountains in the distance, the jagged buildings and lush trees nearby, and the red soil under her feet turned into a layered ink painting in her consciousness. Liu Mengzhi, who was holding a bucket in front of him, was like a silhouette, melting into the dusk. Like a certain shot in a movie, the freeze frame after being opened has an indescribable flavor, simple and quiet.

The old people in Tucun hate being industrious the most. They say that laziness is a fatal disease. Now, I can no longer avoid my laziness, because the stories from many years ago and the voices of childhood are gradually disappearing like dominoes. Sometimes, a fire hook, or a few worn pages of a book, will make me stay in the past when I am dozens of years younger than I am now, or in the rain or the wind. I am like a prematurely withered willow leaf, swaying on those stories, letting the emotional ripples wrap around me, sinking deeply, unable to extricate myself.

The village was so small that a gourd can be used to pull it over. Four of the seventy-six people were kidnapped by bandits in one fell swoop. The old are old, the young are young, and the families are all equally poor. There is not much left to sweep with a broom. Don't you think the bandits are asking for trouble? Besides, this group of people and that group of people have been washing it so many times, even the fat intestines have been washed out of oil. The villagers were chattering about this together, guessing that the informant might have led the wrong way: it is a big village, and there are no particularly wealthy households. The beggars are too few, and the rabbits are too lazy to poop here. Is it worth a trip, and is it worth tying up four of them at once? However - one of the elders bit his pipe and said thoughtfully: It's hard to say. The bandits are so poor and anxious that the King of Hell will not disdain the thinness of ghosts.

When Lu Jiangmin heard Qiuye teasing him, he also smiled playfully and said, "Qiuye, should you bring the results of my guidance to the meeting for everyone to see?" Qiuye said coquettishly, "Who is your achievement?" You think beautifully. You should be careful that other instructors make fun of you and make you lose face by instructing new rural instructors to become uncles. When Lu Jiangmin heard what Qiuye said, he stopped writing in front of the table, walked to Qiuye and hugged Qiuye and said, "If Qiuye and the others really see you, they won't make me jealous to death." Unexpectedly, just such a sentence made Qiuye so excited that tears flashed in his eyes. Jiang Min, do you really think so? People in Nitai Sun Village were talking behind my back, saying that sooner or later you would regret it and become Chen Shimei's after entering the city. The more they talked, the more scared I became, fearing that you would really not want me after you entered the city. Lu Jiangmin didn't expect Qiuye, who had always been confident, to be so unsure of his marriage. He said, Qiuye, you are the kind of person who doesn't care what others say. Where is your self-confidence? Qiuye lowered his head and hesitated for a while and said, No matter how confident I am, I still know that I am a farmer.

Fifteen years later, red flags were everywhere and the sky was full of red stars. Shang Yuming was labeled as a current counter-revolutionary because he sang for Liu Mazi. At this time, he was already an old man in his sixties, but his body was strong and his bearing was still there. He let go of his throat and shouted, causing dust to fly from the beams. But people have to bow their heads under the eaves. No matter how prosperous and powerful Shang Yuming was back then, now he has become an eggplant beaten by the frost after autumn. The great ability is swallowed into the stomach, and only you know the taste. Fortunately, Shang Yuming was optimistic. When he came back from the criticism, he looked at the bland meal prepared by Xiaoxiancao and his two ignorant sons. He actually grinned: What a ball! What scene did I not see when I was singing in opera? I have been singing about Mr. Guan all my life. With his protection, I will surely see the sun again after the rain! Shang Yuming's words can be regarded as self-mockery, and they can also be regarded as comforting the little fairy grass mother and son not to worry.

Accompanied by Heizi, the old village chief came to the graves of his wife and grandson with paper money. Heizi barked at the sky. The old village chief knelt on the ground, lit the paper money and said: "Honey, dog, Zhao Dana deserves it! He doesn't deserve it!" He looked at the flames, trembling his hands, and added the paper money one by one, and said: "Oh, my wife, you said Zhao Dana is a pathetic person, call me Give him a way to live, I will give him a chance. His mother will not let him live, let him suffer retribution! Now the two local government departments want to punish him! Yes, let him live, let him suffer retribution! "

If you go to our Bashui River, if you see a boy in rags running in front and a girl carrying a bamboo pole behind her, unable to win or catch up, you will see the girl behind her throwing away the bamboo pole in her hand and crying loudly: "Oh my God! What do you live to do?" Then you can be sure that this boy is disabled. We people living by the Bashui River never ask those who live like dogs, "What do you live to do?" But for those who are disabled, they ask: "What do you live to do?" "What do you live to do?" This is a fatal question. My mother swallowed hard and didn't cry out the next sentence, "Why don't you die?" This logic is a bit confusing.

In October, the first heavy snow fell on the Batan grassland. Soon, the majestic mountains surrounding the Batan Grassland were covered with white caps. The Batan Grassland, which had been rejoicing all summer, was a little tired and seemed to have fallen into this winter sleep in one step. Looking at the heavy snow, Mei Duo calculated the return date of the black-necked crane...

Zheng Jun was on his deathbed. I rushed into the ward, held Zheng Jun's hand and said, "Zheng Jun, our scientific research results won the first prize of the National Science and Technology Progress Award." Zheng Jun smiled and said, "Fanqing, congratulations to you, decades of hard work have finally paid off. You can also comfort your mentor, your father-in-law, Professor Shao." I said, "The results belong to all of us. The hard work you have put in , I know it best." Zheng Jun glanced at Qi Huaizheng and said, "Chief Qi, you are my hero." Qi Huaizheng stepped forward and held Zheng Jun's hand and said, "Zheng Jun, the one person I feel sorry for the most is you. I tell you, you can't leave! We must stay together after retirement. This is our rule!"

Luo Kuishan called all four of his sons back. The second son, Luo Shengjun, brought half a fan of mutton and asked his wife and mother to chop the meat into fillings in the kitchen. Among Luo Kuishan's four sons, the second son, Luo Shengjun, lives a better-off life. He does not farm and makes money by raising sheep. The eldest son, Luo Sheng, became addicted to learning how to farm and did not want to do anything else. He went to work in the city for three days and then came back. He said that he felt uncomfortable building a building for city people. He was also afraid of heights and did not dare to look down when standing on a second-story floor. Luo Shengxue no matter whether there is drought or flood every year, his twelve acres of land are always as strong as in previous years. He is also considered carefree and does not need much savings, because the girl is doing well in middle school and has saved enough money for tuition fees.

Just after the Waking of Insects, the cornfield at the head of the village revealed its spiky green. The morning air was very fresh, and Benben felt a little drunk as he sniffed it. Benben was probably the first person in the whole village to get up, with two buckets swinging proudly on both ends of the pole. The well is in the east of the village. Benben hurriedly put down the bucket, and the bucket made a "bang" sound in the well. Benben smiled, feeling like he was shaking all morning. The wooden bucket full of water said nothing, while the pole creaked on Clumsy's shoulder. Benben walked briskly, and a layer of undulating water gathered on the surface of the bucket mouth. The water ripples forward, and then backwards in the rhythm controlled by Cunben. The fluctuating water shook Benben's face, and Benben's heart was as quiet as a lively drop of water. Passing by a high courtyard wall, the dog inside started barking again. That's Heipi's dog.

Huangyan, the "Hometown of Mandarin Oranges in China", is an eye-catching name forged from 5,000 years of historical accumulation and modern civilization. It is located in the middle of the golden coastline of Zhejiang Province, adjacent to two national tourist resorts, Tiantai Mountain and Yandang Mountain. Huangyan has a long history, and humans have been living here since the Neolithic Age. In the second year of Shangyuan of the Tang Dynasty, Yongning County was first established, and in the first year of Tianshou it was changed to Huangyan to this day. Huangyan's organizational system has changed several times. In 1989, it was removed from the county and established as a city, and in 1994, it was removed from the city and established as a district. It is now one of the main urban areas of Taizhou City, covering an area of ​​988 square kilometers and a population of about 580,000. Huangyan's literary style is at its peak, and he has been known as "Little Zou Lu" since ancient times. Today's Huangyan has developed science and education, and has a large number of talents. It has been awarded as "National Advanced County in Science and Technology Work" and "National Top 100 County in Science and Technology Strength"; it has been named "National Hometown of Martial Arts" and "National Advanced Sports Area".

In the morning, Cao Daxue suddenly said that he had chest pain and asked Cao Shugen to send him to Yema Chong Street to find a doctor. Cao Shugen thought that Cao Daxue wanted to deceive him again. This turtle son often deceived him in this way, hoping to go to the street to play and get some snacks. Cao Shugen kicked Cao Daxue, saying you are a bitch, are you greedy again? Cao Shugen often kicked his sons like this. Whether they were in college or elementary school, Cao Shugen would kick them like this whenever they made a mistake. Unexpectedly, Cao Daxue couldn't help but kicked him this time. He fell to the ground like a rotten log. After kicking Cao Shugen, he saw his son rolling on the ground like a donkey, his face deformed in pain. Cao Shugen suddenly panicked and called his wife Tian Xiuying to find Ma Buhuan.

Xinghua Village is located 15 kilometers northeast of Fenyang City. There is a national highway in front of the "village" and a highway not far behind the "village". It is 90 kilometers away from the provincial capital Taiyuan. It is adjacent to Pingyao Ancient City to the east and Jiexiu Mianshan Mountain to the south. The environment is elegant and accessible in all directions. Xinghuacun has a long and profound history of wine making. It is currently the only company in my country that owns two nationally famous wines, Fenjiu and Zhuyeqing. If the world is eternal, then Fenzhou Xinghua Village and the world's fine wines have become a new kind of eternity. If the tree of life is evergreen, then Xinghua Village and Lao Baifen will always be the beautiful vision of the world. It is said that there are 19 places named "Xinghua Village" in our country, among which 6 "Xinghua Villages" are more famous.

The dispute between the Dong family and the Liao family harmed Yaogui Pi and Dong Mei. After walking seventy or eighty miles south from Shouchun City, we arrived at an ancient town. Going deeper into the ancient town, which was just over a dozen miles of dirt road, we arrived at a village called Liaojiayingzi. The Liao family is a big family in Yinxian Town. If I walked around for ten miles and asked three or five people, nine out of ten of them would be named Liao. Therefore, the Liao family Yingzi has a nickname called "Xiangying", which means loud village. The name of the village "Ying" has a lot of origin. During the Spring and Autumn Period and the Warring States Period, it belonged to the fiefdom of Chu State. The word "Ying" in Qu Yuan's "Sorrow for Ying" is thick with unexplainable feelings. Therefore, following the "Spring and Autumn Law", Shouchun people called the village Ying.

My father is now a fisherman. Previously, people in Yangshu Village called him the "Knife Boss." The people of Yangshu Village were pointing fingers behind my father's past struggles and doing almost nothing now, but in the end, all the words he wanted to say turned into spittle and were swallowed. The Yangtze River estuary is 400 kilometers away from our Yangshu Village, and a pocket is deliberately left. Don't underestimate this pocket. Over 400 kilometers away, the fish that migrate to produce seeds are mature. The "three delicacies of the Yangtze River" were born here. The river fish here are abundant, and the river fish is even more coveted. Those trash fish are called "the eight delicacies of the Yangtze River." Now my father is busy in this pocket. He goes in and out of the courtyard gate every day, coughing, and there is always a puff of smoke behind him. The cigarettes he smokes are considered high-end in our Yangshu Village. People in the village say this is a disease caused by being a boss in the past - his posture cannot be reduced.

Feilong Chemical Plant is located at the entrance of the village and is built against the mountain. Behind it is Bailong Mountain. The high courtyard wall is made of red bricks and is as tall as a person. The current height is due to reinforcement. It was covered with broken glass and iron spikes. In the past, the fence only had three sides, and the hillside behind it was steep. Later, a fence was built to take advantage of the mountain. The winding walls look like a heavily guarded prison or a military restricted area. As for that part of the hillside, it looks like a mysterious stronghold from the bushes. The gate facing the village entrance is very grand, even more majestic than the telecommunications building in the town. Silk colored flags were erected on the gate tower, fluttering in the wind. The chemical plant was as quiet as a prison. The roar of the machine does not sound noisy from outside the wall, but is slightly dull and mute. The workers all live in the town, and there are dormitories in the town. Several buses take workers to and from get off work every day.

Wang Maotian yawned endlessly after filling out his ballot, then lay down on the table and fell asleep. When the election results came out, old man Maotian was sleeping in a deep sleep. The people next to him finally woke him up: Old man Wang, the hat of village party secretary is on your head! Then, Deputy Secretary Lu of the town knocked on the microphone and called Wang Maotian to the podium. The old man Maotian's face suddenly started to feel feverish, and he wished he could get into the hole in the table. He blushed and said rudely, "I'm not kidding, I'm not joking. I'm not joking. I'm not joking. I'm not joking. I'm not kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm not joking." Wang Maotian ran out of the village compound, still feeling embarrassed and angry. The party members and the masses in Dashanwozi Village are the same. They always treat elections as a joke, casting some weird people to make a fool of themselves, and just use them for fun on weekdays.

Ding Guoyi was the secretary of the Municipal Party Committee. He retired a year ago. Unable to bear the snobbery of the officialdom, he decided to flee the city and return to his hometown of Dongyu Village with his wife to celebrate the New Year. When he was in power, Ding Guoyi did many good things for Dongyu Village, but after he stepped down, the people in his hometown wiped out all the good things he had done, which made Ding Guoyi very uncomfortable. He discovered three unsolvable mysteries: the first was the death of Ma Jixiang, who was only one or two years older than him, the second was the resignation of the mayor Li Jun, and the third was a bunch of sarcastic remarks from the village party secretary Sun Zhirong. Ding Guoyi could no longer stay in Dongyu Village, so he fled back to the city. After reading this, we find: the story has just begun... On the afternoon of New Year's Eve, Ding Guoyi and Wang Hui walked into Dongyu Village.

The whole of northern Shaanxi was taking a nap for a long time. When I woke up from a nap in the summer when I was a teenager, I always felt that something was too late, that I couldn't catch up, that I was abandoned by a large group of people and a big thing. Now I wake up alone from my nap again, knowing that someone is in my dream, that someone has gone somewhere unknown, that there are some things and that some people have forgotten me. Sometimes I am afraid of those who are sleeping and feel that my whole being has been abandoned. Since I was a child, I was nominally adopted by my uncle, my third father. In dialect, we call our father's elder brother and younger brother daddy, and the eldest is the father. In writing, I am used to calling him uncle, and sometimes I call him little daddy. My uncle herds sheep every day.

The stage in early winter is set up in the harvested rice fields, high and simple. Standing under the stage and looking up from the gaps in the stage, you can clearly see the actors' clothing, gestures, and their faces lowered in contemplation. When people on the stage hurriedly walked somersaults or fought, dust and mud would fall from the top, and the children below would scream and run away. There was no electricity, and there were two large gas lamps hanging on the left and right sides of the crossbar in front of the stage. They hissed and shone with a blinding white light. A large number of moths flapped their cold wings and danced excitedly in the light. The rice paddies, hills and trees in the villages are filled with theatergoers, who come from nearby villages or further afield. In the 1950s and 1960s, theater viewing was a grand event in rural areas. It doesn't matter whether the play is good or not. What's important is the activity of watching the play itself, which brings infinite happiness to lonely rural areas.

The town of Chumi began as a small street. The middle line of the small street is the boundary between the two villages, Shipai Village to the north and Lanbazi Village to the south. There used to be a boundary marker on the dividing line. At that time, Shipai Village and Lanbazi Village were fighting over land, and every time they fought, there would be casualties. The boundary markers were moved here today and moved there tomorrow, and they were knocked down and smashed from time to time. Legend has it that during the Ming Chenghua period, the county magistrate came to Chumi to resolve a dispute. He built a small stone house under the boundary monument and locked up a beggar who came here to beg. Beggars are no longer beggars and are revered as road gods. The boundary monument is protected by the road god. No one dares to move it anymore, and the land boundary is no longer in dispute. During the street reconstruction in 1996, the dirt road was changed to a cement road. Before paving the cement, the street was leveled and large stones were used as roadbed. The soil at the boundary markers was removed. Some people said that they saw it with their own eyes and saw no bones or coffins.

Bi Kunlin, Han nationality, whose pen name is Shijing Woman, was born in 1987 in Yangyang, Shangluo, Shaanxi. He has created the novels "The Smile of an Angel" and "Heart of Grass in the Mood for Love", a collection of essays and essays "Flowers Stained with Zen", a collection of short and medium stories "Love as soon as the flowers bloom" and "Children's Village", a collection of poems "Dreams Are Horses", and more than 3 million words. Member of Shaanxi Provincial Writers Association, Shaanxi Provincial Youth Writers Association, and Shaanxi Prose Prose Society. Currently working for Shanyang Federation of Literary and Art Circles and editor of "Tianzhu Mountain" magazine. Eryuhe is a small and almost invisible village hidden in the mountains of the Qinling Mountains in southern Shaanxi. You can't find it on the criss-crossing map of Shaanxi. Unless you narrow the search scope from provinces to cities and counties, you can see it. Two thin and short lines converge into one place, with the words "Eryu River" next to it. The village stretching along the river for more than ten kilometers was named "Eryuhe Village" after the river.

When they reached the fork in the road, Lianxiang said to Alian, "Sister, let's go to Jiashigou together." Alian shook his head, "Zhiren naturally has his own reasons for doing this. You go first, and we will wipe away the footprints." Zhixin fell to his knees, and Alian touched his head, "Don't let Zhiren down, take care of the children. With them, we are worth it." The old man, woman, and children cried. After a while, Ertu asked: "Why don't you come with us?" Alian shouted, "Don't cry, hurry up, let's rush to the deer and make our footprints deeper." Only then did Erjin and Ertu understand that Alian and the others were trying to protect everyone, and Lianxiang said softly, "Let's go, don't let Zhiren down." When Zhixin took the children to Toad Rock, the officers and soldiers had already arrived at the granite class. Zhiren gave an order, first the wood, then the rolling stones, and then the four kings rushed down the stone class. Zhiyuan led a team to rush down the mountain. After a burst of noise, the air seemed to be congested. Zhiren looked around, but there was no one. He picked up the machete and stood on the path at the foot of Mashike Mountain, forming a majestic statue.

Village chief Zhang Yuanmang went to the village to hold a meeting in the morning. Mainly because I heard from the township head about the situation of inspecting alpine vegetables in Qinghe County. The township head is a woman, but her speech is very good, she can explain things in simple and simple terms, and she has a lot of witty words, which makes the atmosphere of the meeting very lively. The female township head finally assigned a task to the village heads of each village, which was to encourage the villagers to plant cabbage after returning and develop Madi Township into the county's number one alpine vegetable base. The village chiefs were very excited and expressed their opinions one after another. Only Zhang Yuanmang remained silent, looking worried. He played flower cards all night last night and lost sixteen yuan. He was now recalling how those two Yamatos made a mistake. Not only did they miss the cards, but they also let others take a shot. If the two cards tied, he would be plus or minus eighteen dollars. He should have won two dollars, but lost sixteen dollars.

The oak tree was cut down by village accountant Liu Zhu. The tall oak tree trunk was sawed into three pieces, and each piece was pulled by two mules, dragging three strands of yellow dust down from the post. When the mule team passed the gate of the primary school, the accountant Liu Zhu, who was huddled in a crowd, stopped and said to her: Cut it down, the village chief has long wanted to use it as a longevity material. Feng Guomei didn't say anything. She thought Liu Zhu's facial features were funny. He had a shiny and big head. Why were his facial features so crowded? When the last section of the tree trunk pulled by the two mules was dragged past Feng Guomei's eyes, she suddenly saw the familiar line of characters on the trunk. The strokes of the characters had been patinated and deformed, but she could still vaguely make out: How far is it from Niutouba to Korla. She thought that as a complete sentence, there should be a question mark after this line.

Sanxi is adding another woman to his family, this is the third one. The women washing clothes next to the ditch rubbed their collars and cuffs, whispering to each other, and their voices changed their pitch. When he saw Sanxi walking away, the man greeted him from a distance. Sanxi, are you talking to someone again? What a blessing. Sanxi's broad face turned purple and glowed with oil, and she waved her hands and said, "Where is it?" In front of Sanxi, the people in the village all had smiles on their faces, but as soon as Sanxi turned into the alley, the people in the village started to look at each other and murmured. If you don't mind eating a hundred beans, how dare you marry her, and she's not a local? This has been discussed more than once, and you ask me and I ask you again and again. No one could answer, but they all remembered something. What comes to mind is Sanxi's first two women... That day was originally a happy day.

Liu Ailing is originally from Dezhou, Shandong, and now lives in Weihai. Deputy editor-in-chief of "Weihai Literature" newspaper. Member of Shandong Writers Association. In 2011, he participated in the 7th Advanced Research Class for Writers of Shandong Writers Association. He has written the novel "One Eyed World", and his short and medium stories have been published in publications such as "Mountain Flowers", "Fangcao", "Qingdao Literature" and "Contemporary Novels", and have been highly recommended in "Mountain Flowers" and other publications. Yibai Qushui firmly believes that nothing can be done more than three times! Countryside people have to spend their whole lives busy with three trivial matters such as weddings, funerals, and growing crops, so that they can live a meaningful life. He often rubbed his bald head and thought that in the three months left of his life, "mourning" was as important as his life.

Tang Qiubao drank half a bottle of wine in a daze. Yin Hehua was stunned: He was so happy and confused! Normally you never have such a large amount. (She reaches for the wine bottle) Stop drinking and get something to eat. Tang Qiubao didn't insist and took the bowl: Mom, you go to sleep first. I'll wash the dishes in a while. Yin Hehua said: Don't panic, I'll talk to you. Tang Qiubao said: Just go. I feel a little dizzy and want to be alone and quiet. Yin Hehua said: Then... You should also go to bed early.

One day, there was a beggar standing in front of her stall. When he saw Liu Jiumei, he asked, where is Lu Hui's earth fort? Has his earth fort been built? Liu Jiumei said, "Lu Hui is dead and was burned to death in the old castle." But the beggar said, "Will Lu Hui die? There is a well in the old castle. He will not jump into the ancient well." Liu Jiumei was dumbfounded and felt uncomfortable again. Later, the beggar, just like Lu Hui, leaned against the doorway of the castle, letting the warm sunshine bathe him, and he felt comfortable. Liu Jiumei had seen the beggar for a long time and felt that he looked familiar, as if he was Guangji Niang's husband. That year, when he took away the little tomatoes, Liu Jiumei recognized them. When Liu Jiumei saw the beggar again, he was no stranger to him, as if he was Lu Hui.

In early winter, on a very cold day, when it was dark, a man came to the door. He was a big man, with a strange appearance and strange clothes. Sai Mai was feeding the black dog at the time, and when he turned around, he noticed that there was someone suddenly at the door. He was a tall, dark man, and his eyes were scanning the yard of her house. His sinister eyes suddenly glanced at Sai Mai, who was dazed in the corner of the yard holding a clay basin. Sai Mai couldn't help but let out a "yeah" and ran towards the kitchen, where he bumped into his aunt who was pouring water out of the pot. The dog seemed to wake up immediately, barking relentlessly and pounced, causing the iron rope under its neck to clank. Unexpectedly, the man was let into the upper room by his grandfather. He also held a bowl of tea with both hands and shouted to the kitchen people to make a delicious meal quickly. As a result, my mother made long noodles. Long noodles are a top-quality meal served by the Saimai family.

In the snowy countryside, in early summer, the mountains gradually turn green, and the highland barley grows taller, decorating the barren land particularly beautifully. Villages are sparsely distributed on the land, and the villagers' houses are all single-yard, flat-roofed Tibetan-style houses. They are sparsely distributed among the highland barley fields, or hidden among the green poplars and willows. Dolma held her daughter Ram and stood at the gate of the courtyard, staring blankly at the distant mountains, highland barley fields, and willow trees. In early summer, the sky is still so blue, with not a single white cloud in sight, and the blue sky connects with the distant mountains. A gust of wind blows, and the highland barley seedlings set off layers of wheat waves, and some even seem to form some small whirlpools. A circle of highland barley bends toward the southeast and northwest, causing the branches of the trees in the distance to sway.

The sunshine on the 6th day of the sixth lunar month covered the khaki Xianyang Plateau with a golden color like egg yolk. Donkey manager Bian Tianshou rode his black horse known as the Black Spear and ran out of the color in a cloud of flying dust. Bian Tianshou was wearing a khaki sleeveless leather jacket with three knot-like buttons unfastened. As the horse ran, the jacket flew high, like a flag flying behind him. Bian Tianshou, a donkey broker who is famous throughout Qinchuan Road, believes that his real father is the old bachelor who has spent his whole life wandering around donkeys. Because Bian Tianshou lost his parents when he was young, it was this wandering old bachelor who took him in and taught him the skills of looking after donkeys, regulating donkeys, attracting donkeys, and buying and selling donkeys. Putting these skills together, Bian Tianshou became the largest donkey broker on Qinchuan Road after his master.

The son looked carefree and used more and more swear words. The name dad was often replaced by old people or even immortals in his mouth. Mei Du was really a little chilled. My son is no longer the little carrot he was when he was a few years old. His arms have become stiff and he is becoming less and less obedient. He wanted to persuade his son earnestly, but his son didn't listen and became impatient and said, "I know, I know!" Stop talking, it's annoying! If you are angry with your son, he will frown, wander outside, and may not come home for many days. Mei Du was afraid that her son would be hungry, thirsty, and bullied outside. She was also afraid that her son would get mixed up with the unscrupulous people in society and become a second-rate ruffian. Mei Du was always feeling exhausted.

The people in the organization invited Fu Yifang to a separate room and expressed their opinions seriously. For a long time, Fu Fang was silent, smoking hard, and the leader waited patiently. Fu Yifang stood up and smiled. The organization thought he agreed, but Fu Fang said: "I have been a farmer in Huanggang Village for several months, and I have a deep experience. I really want to be the township head again." After hearing Fu Fang's words, the comrades in the county and township opened their mouths, and in a very serious tone, they emphasized organizational discipline to Fu Fang. At the same time, they quickly reported to the county. The county also held an emergency meeting and made two replies: first, try to do the work of each representative so that they understand the organization's intentions and strive to complete the election tasks; second, if the representatives insist that the election will go ahead as usual, the election results should be respected, and organizational measures can still be taken in the future.

As if a ghost had possessed him, he picked up the finely ground umbrella ribs and went to the Yanchun Clinic. The big speaker at the door was playing "Happiness", which made people panic. There was a group of people playing cards in the yard. Seeing Wang Lianlin come in, Li Ande shouted: "Su Shuisheng, your grandpa is here, call grandpa quickly." A teenage boy stood up from the crowd and timidly called Wang Lianlin grandpa. The little boy is a perfect replica of Wang Yong. Wang Lianlin hurriedly dug into his pocket, and the sharp umbrella ribs fell to the ground. He took out two hundred yuan and gave it to Xiao Wangyong, but he was speechless. When he lowered his head to pick up the umbrella rib, he bumped into the little boy's hand. The little boy's hands were so tender and warm that he couldn't recover from the heat for a long time. He didn't hear what the people around him said to him. He didn't bother to pick up the umbrella ribs anymore, he just held on to the little boy. After a long time, he finally managed to squeeze out a few "goodbye" sounds.

I dare to say responsibly that Dongfang You is a century-old fool. For him, I not only hate him, but hate him (this is Dongfang You's speaking habit that he has developed since he was a child. When I think of him, my grammar and rhetoric are messed up). Because he once almost cost me my life, I can neither forget him nor forget him. It is said that recalling the past is a sign of aging. I am not convinced by old age, and I am fully confident that I will serve in a leadership position for another term until I am sixty years old. Since I turned fifty, I have often suffered from kidney deficiency, qi deficiency, heart deficiency and other feelings of emptiness. The things in front of me turn around and are forgotten, but the people and things in the past are lingering in front of my eyes. The one who appears most frequently is the fool Dongfang You - my childhood companion and boy's classmate. His innate smiling face often appears in my dreams.

In that absurd era, farmers' private plots of land, small plots of land, and sloping land were all treated as the tail of capitalism and cut off, and household sideline businesses such as raising pigs, sheep, and chickens were also treated as the tail of capitalism and restricted. The restricted breeding indicators are roughly as follows: three farmers are allowed to raise one pig, and one farmer is only allowed to raise two sheep and three chickens. If you exceed the limit, they will criticize you, fight you, tie you up, beat you, and even drag you around the streets. This restriction really screws up farmers. People with conscience, please think about it, if you only rely on this kind of breeding and the pitiful grains distributed from the team (a person can get two to three hundred kilograms of coarse grains in a good year, but only ten or twenty kilograms in a bad year), how will the farmers maintain their lives?

The place name Erxianju is quite nice, a bit poetic. Thirty years ago, I settled in the ancient city of Rehe, and this was the first place I knew and remembered. But understanding and remembering have nothing to do with poetry and painting, nor does it have anything to do with the fact that there is a small railway station there, nor does it have anything to do with the fact that there is a well-preserved large stone bridge built in the Kangxi year next to the small station. Speaking of which, the relevant thing is that there is a pot sticker shop next to Dashiqiao. It's better to tell the truth, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I was an employee of that pot sticker shop at the time, wearing a smoky white muslin hat and overalls stained with oily twists. I first sold pot stickers, then baked them and added ashes from the pot. This shop had a new revolutionary name after the Cultural Revolution (it seemed to be called Xiangyang Restaurant), but no one called it, and everyone called it Erxianju Pot Sticker Shop. Place name and store name: they were called together. The Guotie Shop is a time-honored brand and an old house.

The weather this year is a bit unusual. Spring planting is coming to an end, and it is extremely hot and scorching. The sun is also scorching. On the mountain path leading to Jingshang Village, poverty alleviation team leader Zhang Jinqiang and two team members, accompanied by Li Feng, secretary of the Baixiang Party Committee, braved the noon sun and trudged forward with luggage in their hands and shoulders, sweating profusely. After listening to the basic situation of Inshang Village at the township government just now, Zhang Jinqiang, the poverty alleviation team leader, felt a little nervous. Before coming, when the organization talked to him, they briefly introduced the situation in Inoue Village. Although they mentioned the difficulties in the village, they were not so serious. It doesn't matter if you are poor, miserable, or tired, but if you are far away and closed, it doesn't matter. The branch is not sound, the organization is disorganized, boundary conflicts are prominent, and armed fights are frequent. In particular, Inoshang Village is located deep in the mountains and is the only village in the county without access to rural roads. The difficulties exceeded his imagination.

When I was a kid, I lived at Red Prairie Ranch and never traveled far. There is a road south of the pasture. Whenever a car or a herd passes by, the road is always dusty. At that time, I often wondered what it would be like on the other side of the road. Many years later, I walked back from the other end of the road and returned to my hometown after a long absence. However, my childhood is long gone and my hometown has become so strange. The past events fell into the crystal ball of time one after another. In my gaze, the road to my hometown was dusty again. Looking back on the past, we always start from that bright summer. In July and August, fireworks, bowl flowers and milk flowers bloom one after another. When the wheat is ripe, the blue waves undulating with the wind are filled with a sweet smell, calling people to harvest. After the wheat is harvested, it will be the season for planting seeds in the meadow.

Niu Laoqi was like a donkey on a mill road, circling around the smooth river sand field. Occasionally, he stopped and looked at the majestic and majestic river surface. On a sunny summer day, when the waves are calm, the four-story and five-story riverboat goes up to Sichuan and down to Shanghai, singing a melodious whistle. The tugboat, emitting black smoke, crawled along with a roar. A few wooden boats dared to sail along the river bank like a stroll, and the diesel engines installed on the wooden boats screamed. The Yangtze River is always lively, the river flows day and night, and boats come and go on the river, but there is no sand transporting boat that Niu Laoqi is looking forward to. Niu Laoqi has been looking at the river since noon yesterday. It is now four o'clock in the afternoon, and there is no trace of the sand transporting ship. "I'm going to kill you, Hu Chengjin's mother. You don't mean what you say. Aren't you going to cut off my life!" Niu Laoqi gritted his teeth and yelled towards the Yangtze River with his belly puffed out.

Shao Li, born in November 1965, is a member of the National Committee of the Chinese Writers Association. He is currently the vice chairman and secretary-general of the Henan Writers Association. He has written nearly two million words of novels and essays. His works have been published in large national publications such as "People's Literature", "Contemporary", and "October", and some of his works have been selected by "Selected Novels", "Novel Monthly", "Selected Chinese Literature", "Works Contest", "Xinhua Digest" and various annual anthologies. Some works have been translated and introduced to France, Japan, Greece and other countries. He has won the Biennial Award for Outstanding Novellas in "Selected Novels", the champion of the "Contemporary" Literary Rally Competition of People's Literature Publishing House, and the title of the most promising young writer in the "2003 Chinese Literary Figures" by hundreds of media across the country. The novella "Minghui's Christmas" won the 4th "Lu Xun Literature Award" of the Chinese Writers Association. The novel "My Quality of Life" was shortlisted for the 7th "Mao Dun Literary Award". Trying to speak about other people's lives is a very thankless task, which often leaves us deeply frustrated. In fact, sometimes even what happens in one day is thrilling to say, let alone such a long life, let alone the unpredictable heart. If this life had been placed in the era of rapid changes in China, it would have been even more unpredictable.

The child was probably six or seven years old when he saw the red carp. But he has been living in the vineyard with his grandfather for two years. Grandpa's vineyard is close to the river. The river is called Majia River. The water is so clear that you can see small fish swimming among the aquatic plants. In the child's mind, the river was very wide, so wide that the people on the opposite embankment looked like insects crawling slowly, and the cars and motorcycles looked like birds flying slowly. The children live a happy life, with fish to eat in the summer and grapes to eat in the autumn. The kids fell in love with this place. This year is the third year. Grandpa raised bees in the vineyard again. The place is surrounded by woods, including acacias, weeping willows, sky poplars, and tangled bushes. Occasionally, one or two albizia trees can be seen. The woods cover the river embankment densely. No matter how you look at it, you can't see the end. Say, bees like woods.

He Wei, male, born in the 1960s. He once served as the fourth contract producer of the Hubei Provincial Writers Association's School of Literature, and the deputy director of the Prose Creation Committee of the Wuhan Writers Association. He currently works at the Hubei Writers Documentation Center. Since 1984, he has published more than one million words of poetry, prose, novels, reportage and literary criticism in more than 200 newspapers and magazines at home and abroad. His poetry works have been included in various anthologies and authoritative newspapers and periodicals such as "Selected Poems", "Selected Chinese Poems", "Selected Chinese New Poems", etc. His famous prose works such as "Prairie Roof", "Singer, Singer", "Touch is a Nutrient", "Chinese Plum Blossom" and "The Shadow of the Distant Bird" have been successively selected by high school and junior high school Chinese textbooks and college entrance examination and high school entrance examination guidance textbooks. He is the author of a collection of novels, "The City of Dog Days", a collection of essays, "The Face of Time", and a collection of reviews, "Who is Drunk in the Frost Forest at Dawn", etc. The water-based Xing'an Ling Canal is two thousand years old. Ever since the Qin Empire swept across Liuhe, Lingqu has had a popular name and an extraordinary resume.

The Huanghua River flows out from deep in the mountains, and the water is surprisingly clear. When the weather is fine, when birds fly over the river, you can clearly see their reflections in the river, even their feathers. As for Huanghua Village, it is located in the middle reaches of the Huanghua River. Due to the moistness of the river, the village has always had simple folk customs. For decades, there have been no bloody fights, not even red-faced disputes. It has been rated as a model village with good morals for many years.

The sun was still a pole high, and the chimneys of every house began to smoke. If the chimney of this family is smoking, it means that this family is still there. If the chimney of that family is not smoking, it means that that family has passed away. When Xu Daoran was walking around the village, he carefully observed whose chimney was smoking and whose chimney was not smoking, as if he was specifically concerned with whether the chimney was smoking or not. In a nice village, people leave as soon as they leave, swarming into the city like swarms of swarms. Hundreds of years ago, there was a great migration of people to empty villages in Zhengjiachuan. At that time, there was no choice but to leave. In a village with less than a hundred people, more than a dozen people died a year, and the illness and death were all sudden. The whole village was in panic and panic all day long. At this moment, a Feng Shui master said that the Feng Shui in Zhengjiachuan was broken, and the fault was caused by the small river.