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A poor student who only smiled when he was in school was often the target of ridicule by his classmates and teachers. However, he failed in the college entrance examination but benefited from the help of officials and found a job in a city agency. Although he only helped the leaders run errands every day, many years later, he made many classmates who used to laugh at him feel ashamed. What makes him so powerful and able to reverse his destiny? Xiahou Yangguang appeared several days after school started. Our school is the best key high school in the province. The admission score for the high school entrance examination and the admission rate for the college entrance examination have always been the highest in the province. Every time when it comes to recruiting students for the high school entrance examination, the school leaders overtly and covertly crowd out the students. Some carry approval slips from the central government to their immediate superiors, some carry large and small red envelopes or bank cards, and there are many approval slips, red envelopes, and bank cards. In the past, major and minor school leaders had been replaced several times.

When I was getting ready to go north, my car got stuck. The sun at seven or eight o'clock is shining on this road. I am a wandering person, but I deliberately chose this vibrant time to drive north, but the spark plug or ignition coil or other reasons caused my car to stop directly on the side of the road. I probably only drove one kilometer north from home. I thought about what to do. I thought about this problem for a day, just like I had done nothing for 24 years. As for things that can be solved by paying a little money and towing them to a car repair shop, I can think about the sun rising and the moon setting. I started the car when my mother went around trying to help me find a new job but did not get a timely reply. I went to Beijing in the north.

An unpredictable change in life comes quietly before dawn without any warning. At that time, the night was dark and dim, and the whole city seemed to be sleeping soundly. Liu Yang, a smart and well-behaved little boy, walked out of an alley, holding an old drink bottle filled with cold drinks and carrying a heavy schoolbag, walking alone on the sidewalk blocked by hibiscus trees. While passing a zebra crossing crossing the road, a bloody accident suddenly happened - around the corner, an orange car without a license plate whizzed from the side like a ghost. There was only a "bang" sound, and the child's thin and short body was hit by an extremely violent impact in an instant, and flew out like a kite with a broken string. The car that caused the accident did not stop at all, and ran away without a trace in the blink of an eye.

The car got on the highway, like a wild horse running wild, speeding towards Guanxian County. The air conditioner in the car gently sprayed out wisps of warm air. Hu Ke leaned his head against the back of the seat, and from time to time the sound of passing cars of various sizes passing through the air and the sound of wheels rubbing against the ground came to his ears. Hu Ke's head was also spinning with the high-speed rotating wheels. For a while, his mind was like clouds and mist on the mountain, and he couldn't figure out a clue. When his mind was like a blank piece of paper, the sound coming from outside the car was like thunder, and lingered around him for a long time, making him feel even more irritable.

In the Mazi Valley with an average altitude of 3,900 meters, the people of Hemai Township have lived a self-satisfied life for generations. Along the river valley, the few highland barleys as light as foxtail grass in the sandy soil on the steep slopes, as well as the cattle and sheep walking back and forth on the sheep's intestine paths every day, are the food that the Hemai people depend on for their survival. The primitive way of life, coupled with the outdated ideas of the respected Grandpa Dundup Dorje, restricted the development of local agriculture. The Hemai people struggled to live an ordinary life in self-satisfaction, following the concept that "life in the countryside is the same no matter how you live it." For many years, the township head Renzeng Wangjie had been worried about the lack of land and living solely on cattle and sheep. He led more than 600 laborers in the township to reclaim a mountain peak into a Dapingba with an area of ​​more than 1,700 acres.

Remember that never forgetting something is not called eternity. Eternal things do not necessarily have to be never forgotten or remembered. On the contrary, in Li Ting's memory, there is a rusty dirt train that is still moving forward with black smoke. Li Ting was just one of the people on the train moving forward in the black smoke. He was wearing a military uniform with yellow on top and blue on the bottom, no collar insignia or cap badge, and he was not a soldier. In the first 10 minutes, more than a dozen green six-wheel trucks transported all the soldiers from the county town to the train station. Then the soldiers were ordered to line up and file into the rusty iron box. The box was empty and cold, and a candle became the sun shining on the soldiers. Those who step in sit on the floor, and the pages of roughly woven reed mats become floor mats.

As a girl, Xiu'e's happiest days of the year were the times when she followed the rural grass-stage opera troupes and traveled around the countryside. This is naturally something that happens during the slack season after autumn. In central Anhui, folk Huangmei Opera is very popular. A random earthen platform was set up in the village. A group of men and women who had been working in the earth during the day took off their mud-stained coats, put on simple costumes, painted their faces with oil paint, stepped onto the folk stage, and became artists. Therefore, those stories about heaven and earth, such as "Pearl Tower", "Du Shiniang", "Dong Yong and the Seven Fairies", often make the village girl Xiu'e shed tears. This year, Anhui had just been liberated. After liberation, Xiu'e's fascination with rural Caotai opera continued unabated. People in Dali Village said that Xiu'e looked just like the character in the play.

That year, he was sixteen years old. Children in the countryside go to school late, so he went to Liushu Primary School when he was nine years old. There is an old willow tree in Willow Primary School. Because the tree is too old, the trunk has cracked, exposing its pale heart. There were only a few willow trees in the Willow Village where he was born and raised, so no one cared about these titles. The town where he lives is called Xingshutun. Does it have to have apricot trees? They are all insignificant things, just like his name is Wang Deli. He is sixteen years old and he really doesn't seem to have received any benefits. Calculating, this year should be 1985, which was also the second year that the Chinese government announced its opening up to the world. The third wave, the fourth industrial revolution, the whole country is restless, and Wang Deli seems to be restless too. Sixteen years old is also a restless age.

Sun Xuejun, male, born in 1970, is from Siping, Jilin. He started writing in the 1990s and has published more than 300 poems and reviews in domestic publications such as "Writer", "Poetry Magazine", "Stars" Poetry Magazine, and "Poetry" Monthly. In recent years, he has devoted himself to novel creation, and some of his novels have been selected by "Selected Novels" and "Selected Novellas". He is currently a member of Jilin Provincial Writers Association, vice chairman and secretary-general of Siping Writers Association, and secretary-general of Siping Public Security Literary and Art Federation. Works for the Public Security Federation of Literary and Art Circles of the Siping City Public Security Bureau in Jilin Province. The sound on the TV suddenly became louder, causing Liang Heng's eardrums to buzz. This broken TV was a stolen property confiscated by the institute. Since no one claimed it, it was left in the duty room as a public item.

On the northern coast of Jiangsu, there is the Lusi Fishing Ground. Whenever spring comes, a large number of small yellow croakers come to this shallow sea to breed and reproduce, so nearby fishing boats waste no time in rushing here to catch them. However, the terrain of this sea area is very complex. When the tide is high, the ocean is vast and vast. After low tide, the water recedes and the bottom of the sea is exposed. Only then can we see clearly that the bottom of the sea is full of pits, dotted with reefs and deep trenches, making it an underwater maze. The relevant departments have not yet measured it, nor have they published an authoritative nautical chart. The weather here is also unpredictable and weather forecasts are often inaccurate. As the saying goes, there is no wind and waves are three feet long, but there is wind and waves. The fishermen who had suffered a lot here simply changed the name of Lusi Fishing Ground to "Laohu Yang".

Wang Xiaowu's face became increasingly ugly. Although the warm sun was shining brightly and the red-hot rainbow door exuded a festive call, the guests he wanted to welcome were still as few as the morning stars, except for his few relatives and fellow villagers. What happened today? Although he is a treasury guard and has no power, he is not close to anyone and does everything according to the rules. At other people's weddings and funerals, he has never lacked etiquette. Why? Wang Xiaowu frustratedly asked the hotel to open the meal on time. At this time, the guests who responded also arrived. It turned out to be his partner Lao Liu. Old Liu took out a very thick envelope: "I am the plenipotentiary, and everyone's thoughts are here." Old Liu handed the cash to Wang Xiaowu's wife, "Brother and sister, click on it." Then he gave Wang Xiaowu the account book. This is a gift note.

Ge's mother robbed someone else's wallet to save her son. After his son recovered from his injury, he despised his mother's behavior. As a mother, how can she make up for her mistakes and gain her son's forgiveness? It's cold in spring, but Ge's mother still spends every night on the street selling dolls. Those clumsy little rag dolls are indeed difficult to sell, and they often fail to arouse customers' desire to buy despite all their efforts. Although the unsuccessful business is very difficult, whenever she meets Fang Xiaolei during the day, she will happily hand over all the money she earns from the transaction to her. Fang Xiaolei was very grateful and offered to give her half of the money, but she refused to take it, saying that she had nothing to do at night anyway, so she could just sit on the street and watch the scenery to relieve her worries. That night, Ge Ma went to work at a street stall. Suddenly, she encountered a group of urban management personnel who came to check and confiscated all the goods of the small vendors.

Report from our newspaper (Reporter Lin Hai) On December 19, a three-day symposium on Lao Mu's works came to a successful conclusion. Fifty critics, writers and poets from all over the country gathered together to conduct multi-faceted discussions on Lao Mu's new work "Despair". Ten influential writers from Binhai City were invited to attend the meeting. It is understood that since the new era, many influential writers, critics and poets have emerged in Zhangxian County, especially Lao Mu's novels, which have aroused great repercussions across the country. He was once hailed as the pioneer writer who has traveled farthest in China. After his creative transformation, Lao Mu used the thinking of a philosopher and the passion of a poet to create a large number of works that reflected the spirit of the times. Particularly worth mentioning is the novella "Journey" that was completed in Zhangxian County, which truly describes the outstanding contributions made by the people of Zhangxian County to the cause of liberation of the Chinese people during the revolutionary war.

The sun is so good today. The warm sunshine shines on the entire land of northern Tibet. The Kunlun Mountains in the distance are rolling up and down, and the snow peaks are also rolling up and down. They are like humps, one peak after another, stretching to the end of the sky. Li Disan walked out of the den, stepped on the hard gravel ground, and walked farther away. He didn't feel the severe pain in his calf until he shook his body and stood firm. Looking far into the distance, there is still no sign of Bali Xiangzi. It has been eight days. Why hasn't Bali Xiangzi come back yet? The hunting group spent more and more time hunting. Once, Bali Xiangzi and several soldiers went out for fifteen days. On that occasion, they shot five bison, three wild donkeys and more than ten yellow sheep. The horses and camels carrying the prey were so tired that they were breathing heavily. When they arrived at the camp, a soldier fell heavily from a camel's hump and lay in a den for two days before regaining consciousness.

There is a large stove in Gao Yang's house, and the fire is very strong. Braised pork was stewed in an iron pot, with potatoes, Sichuan peppercorns, aniseed and small peppers. The rich red oil soup was not warm enough, and the oily skin was scattered. If it was boiled just a little longer, the soup would boil away, and it needed a little more fire. But I don't know why, but the soup pot can't be opened despite being carried around. Fan Zhongyuan was at the other end of the room, talking loudly with someone. His impassioned tone reached Yue Yue's ears loudly, but he could not be seen. Yue Yue's attention was focused on the pot. The house where Gao Yang's family lived was narrow and crowded, with things piled around the stove. Yue Yue anxiously wanted to put the pot on the fire, but the fire was always occupied by other things and could not be placed... She was awakened by the ringing of the bell.

My mother called and my fifth brother was sick again. I turned off the TV and sat on the sofa. My mother's voice was very calm, like voice customer service. After notifying me, I hung up the phone. The beeping busy tone blocked my unsaid words and echoed in the empty living room. It seems that it is a common thing for Fifth Brother to have an accident. On the sixteenth day of the first lunar month, when his mother made him the forty-first bowl of boiled egg wine, she muttered that the past few decades had been in vain. Thinking about it, it is true that Fifth Brother has never stopped having "accidents" since he was thirty years old. The first few years were nothing more than a series of blind dates, deceived marriages, and alcoholism. In the next few years, he became involved with gambling and illness. Almost all the good mountains and good land obtained when the families were divided were pawned to others. Because of this, my mother became so angry that her eyes turned red, her blood pressure so high that she had to stay in the hospital for more than half a month.

Although Ling Wudou is the monitor of the breeding class, he is the only one in the whole class. The day after he was promoted from a soldier to a squad leader, he took a Type 56 submachine gun, 20 rounds of ammunition, a single soldier tent, a sleeping bag, a small aluminum pot and a bunch of cans, compressed dry food and rice flour. He rode the bay horse and drove 25 military horses of various colors to an unnamed valley more than 40 kilometers away from the company to find places with water and grass. He wanted to fatten these army horses before heavy snow covered the entire plateau so that they could survive the long winter. Ling Wudou left the company and felt that he suddenly became vulnerable. Altitude sickness hit him quickly and he almost lost his support. He felt like he had a fever, like he had a cold.

Father said, don't worry, I will definitely leave you a legacy. The father said this while having New Year's Eve dinner with his children. When the father said this, his two sons were drinking, his two daughters-in-law had just cooked dumplings and were preparing to put them on the table, and a pair of teenage grandsons were setting off firecrackers outdoors. No one was talking to the old man. The old man suddenly said such a word without beginning or end, which was almost impossible to understand. Sun Jian and Sun Qiang had just clinked their glasses with the wine raised to their lips. They stopped at the same time and looked at their father with two pairs of drunken and doubtful eyes. The two brothers Sun Jian often sit together and drink together, and they almost always get drunk as soon as they drink. Today is New Year's Eve, and they have been drinking since noon. They have been a little drunk for a long time, but now they are sober.

I had already thought about working as soon as I graduated to earn some money. It's not that I don't want to take the postgraduate entrance examination or study for a Ph. D., But I can't. There is only one reason. My parents are farmers and have no money. To support his education, he borrowed a lot of money from others. You can't ask your parents to pay back this money, you have to pay it back yourself. It's hard to find a job these days. There are so many college students that there are so many people competing for a job. It is difficult for ordinary people to grab it. When he was about to graduate, Wu Lie analyzed himself. From all aspects, Wu Lie is very ordinary. He has an average appearance, a dark face, and some acne. His grades are average. He has passed re-examinations in two subjects. If he had not cheated a little bit on English CET-4, he would probably not even be able to get the certificate. Social relations are all in the deep mountains and old forests. He can't live well, let alone help him. Once you understand yourself, you will also understand the path you want to take. The city where Wu Lie goes to school is a big city with many and wide roads.

As soon as Xu Zhizhong entered the room, he pulled his Panama-style wide-brimmed straw hat onto my sofa. There was no color on his long face. He stood there with his back against the door, holding a big watermelon in his hand, his upper eyelids drooping down as if they were nerveless, and he rolled his nostrils and let out a rough breath. I ignored him. We were friends who grew up together. From elementary school to junior high school, we were in the same school and in the same class. We were never separated. When we were 16, we went to build roads together. We were together every day, shooting off cannons. We were not so polite. Seeing that I was ignoring him, Xu Zhizhong stared at me for a while with his bloodshot eyes and suddenly said loudly: Buddy! I've got someone to cook it for you, you have to help me! Really, who? Who can give you a hard time? You are such a shrewd businessman. How can I help you and sue him? If you sue him, you can't go to me, you have to go to a lawyer.

That afternoon Fan Jun asked me to go to his place, and I knew it was actually about Bin Yan again. Recently, he has been uneasy. Because of Bin Yan, he said that Erlong was going to turn over. I don't know Erlong. Erlong is a legend. The legend of the two dragons is often associated with fear. When it was mentioned that there were many two dragons, Fan Jun could not come to work in the factory at all. The sense of fear gave me an impression. This impression made it impossible for me to connect the short lame man in front of me with the legend when I saw Erlong at the gate of Fan Jun. The second dragon I saw for the first time was not only lame, but also seemed to have very few hairs on his head. It was hard to say whether he was bald or not.

Wystan Hugh Auden (1907-1973) had rich poetry, proficient poetic skills, and a broad poetic path. He is recognized as one of the most important English poets after T. S. Eliot. Professor Edward Mendelson, the trustee of his literary estate, said: "Among the poets who wrote in English, Auden is the first one who truly belongs to the twentieth century." The poet Joseph Brodsky even more respectfully called Auden "the greatest mind of the twentieth century" and a "critic" of the twentieth century.

Yuri Vasilyevich Bondarev, a contemporary Russian "trench school" realist writer, was born in Orsk on March 15, 1924. During the Anti-Fascist Patriotic War, he served in the artillery force with the rank of second lieutenant and was wounded twice. After the war, he entered the Gorky Institute of Literature of the Soviet Writers Association and began his career as a professional writer after graduation. In the 1980s and 1990s, he served as Secretary of the Board of Directors of the Soviet Union of Writers and Vice Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Writers' Union of the Russian Federation. He was awarded the Order of the Hero of Socialist Labor and twice won the Soviet State Medal. His early works focused on the creation of war themes, truly describing the bloody cruelty of war, and achieved great success. Later works focused more on philosophical thinking and exploration of social life and human destiny. Wenji was born in the 1980s. He graduated from a foreign language college in the capital, majoring in Russian. He studied at the Russian Federal State Pedagogical University in Kazan and now teaches at a university in Hubei.

Du Ya is a poet who writes in the dark, because her writing is often like a flickering spark in a dark world, so faint and lonely, but also faintly exuding an awe-inspiring vastness. Du Ya said in his own words: "In the autumn of 2002, I saw the darkness of the universe. As early as the autumn of 1999, I saw the final disintegration and disappearance of matter. I felt something in my heart collapse: the nature that I trust, I have always believed in the eternal nature that will never disappear. , It turns out that one day it will disappear and cease to exist." Her poems always start from specific things and humble things around her, but only as a starting point, and then she introduces her own questioning of the meaning of human existence, showing the essence of the world, the silent elegy world and the ultimate confusion that cannot be shaken off.

A woman named Xian Xiangchun gave Deputy Secretary Ye five bottles of toon. She wanted to be the deputy director of the women's federation in the village, but Deputy Secretary Ye was actually moved by these five bottles of toon. Deputy Secretary Ye recommended her to the secretary. Can Xianxiang really become the deputy director? What other interesting stories happened? It is quiet in the township government compound. The quiet compound indicates that something important is about to happen. "Listening to thunder in a silent place" generally refers to such a situation. There were still three hours before lunch, and what I wanted to do was go to Zhenxi Street to take some photos of the old donkey doing the grinding. This may be the last donkey still walking on the mill road in China.

The Jialing River is almost the only river that can be identified as having two sources and flowing thousands of miles in cursive writing. Standing at the pier at Chaotianmen in Chongqing, one can see a mighty line from left to right, inserting the last and most lyrical stroke into the heart of the Yangtze River as her most graceful ending. This is a long humanistic scroll, a long spiritual journey, passing through the three provinces and one city of Shaanxi, Gansu, Sichuan, and Chongqing, with stormy waves crashing on the shore and romance all the way. But this final writing is the memory of my life and my eternity. My first cry was the sound of the waves of the Jialing River. One kilometer before the Jialing River merges into the Yangtze River, the river is calm and gentle. The occasional rapids and shoals have not changed the gracefulness and mystery that it has cultivated all year round. There is a factory on the shore with a very resounding name. It is called Chang'an. A factory can actually have the same name as the imperial capital of the Tang Dynasty.

The flower business is not easy to do. If you are idle for three days and work for one day, it is considered a good business. When I had some free time, I looked through the photo album and could stare at the photo with Xin Chang for a long time. As soon as I opened the photo album today, someone came to my door to make a flower basket. The squinting man in a suit who said he was a famous host of Jiujiu Weddings said that his company was planning a wedding for a rich second generation regardless of the cost. After putting down a deposit of 1,000 yuan, Ni Yan emphasized that whoever messes up every aspect of the wedding will be responsible. He said that since I took over the flower basket job, I would be responsible for this link. When he turned to leave, he warned me in a warning tone that if something happened, the rich second generation would not be polite. Freckles was chewing melon seeds and standing nearby to listen to gossip. Unlike usual, he didn't say a word. This job would be nothing if done in my hometown, but Xin Chang was there to help.

Soldiers like to compete with each other, with their comrades, with their fellow soldiers, and often with themselves. In the words of firefighter Geng Jian, soldiers who don't compete will slowly rot away. Geng Jian is a non-commissioned officer of the Special Service Squadron of the C City Fire Corps of the Armed Police. This man has a rather distinctive appearance. His forehead, cheekbones, and lower jaw are all very angular. At a glance, he looks like a sketch by an artist. It looks rather rough anyway. Since the day he joined the army, he liked to compete. More than ten years later, all the people in the squadron who could compete with him were gone, leaving only his fellow countryman Niu Shuang. He seemed to be unwilling to give up and still competed with Niu Shuang. Of course, Niu Shuang is not a fuel-efficient lamp. If Geng Jian didn't compete with him, he would feel that his life would be boring. Therefore, they often turn ordinary training into a life-and-death competition.

In the morning, the editor-in-chief asked Liu Yiran to come to his office. After Liu Yiran left, the editor-in-chief asked her to leave immediately for an interview elsewhere. The editor-in-chief is in his forties, and his belly is quite swollen, but at first glance he still looks young. The editor-in-chief is indeed newly promoted. He was originally the deputy editor-in-chief and director of the news department, and has always been Liu Yiran's immediate boss. Although we are far apart now, our personal relationship is still very good. The editor-in-chief never puts on airs when talking to Liu Yiran. The editor-in-chief asked: "Do you know Li Dazhong?" "Li Dazhong?" Liu Yiran was stunned for a moment, but he immediately thought, "Is he the chairman of Haotian Group?" "Yes. This guy has become really popular in the past few years, and CCTV even gave him several shots that day. It would be inappropriate for newspapers in our industry not to report on him. You go interview him this time, and come back and write something big."

I seem a little timid about meeting Cao Yu. He is a great drama master, but now he is seriously ill and is living in the hospital. I called Wan Fang. Wan Fang is the daughter of Mr. Cao Yu. The person who answered the phone told me that Wan Fang went abroad for a visit. I called Mr. Zhang Guangnian, and he said: "Comrade Cao Yu is a very emotional person. You should go to the hospital to visit him!" I put down the phone, held a bouquet of flowers, and walked towards Beijing Hospital.

With half a year left before he turns 57, An Yusen is already ready to retire. An Yusen is the party secretary, chairman and general manager of Yunhe Railway Management Group. An Yusen has been in this position for nearly seven years. Seven years ago, he was the deputy director in charge of diversified operations of the Yunhe Railway Branch. After the railway branch was abolished, he took up his current position. Changing from being in charge to being in charge can also be considered a professional counterpart. According to the cadre management methods of the Northern Railway Bureau, cadres like him at the deputy bureau level can arrive at the dock at the age of 57 without special circumstances. Someone encouraged him to find someone to move around and change his position to think again. This is not without precedent. There was a railway bureau chief who was supposed to retire at the age of 60, but he worked until he was 65.

Even I myself can't explain what kind of mentality I had when I went to the slums that day. There is no word "slum" in the official dictionary, and Noah divides the City of Ashes into two areas: the center and the periphery. The former is where I have been living. Straight buildings are neatly nailed to the ground like wooden piles. Artificial light sources cast cool but non-dazzling light between the gaps in the buildings. Occasionally, the artificial canopy will change the mood to simulate cloudy and rainy days. Together with the ozone and negative ions released from the air circulation system, it brings with it It's a very comfortable and fresh smell. It is said that it is the unique smell of earth after rain, but I don't know whether it is true or not - 306 years after the cataclysm, the last group of surface immigrants have died. Sunshine, forests, rivers, nature, wild animals and other things from the old era have all been reduced to noun explanation questions in history textbooks.

Two hours after Men Xiaofan lost contact, Quan Jinshu received a call from Lin Shitai, director of the County Education Bureau. Lin Shitai said on the phone that Men Xiaofan had been double-regulated. The work of the County Vocational Education Center is temporarily in your charge. You must work hard and strive to be the top leader during the assessment. If you have any major issues at work, you need to report them to the Education Bureau. Don't make your own decisions. Quan Jinshu was stunned and said, "Principal Men has done a good job and has always enjoyed a high reputation in society for his integrity. How come he was suddenly shunned?" Did the disciplinary inspection department arrest the wrong person? Lin Shitai laughed and said, can this be wrong? Quan Jinshu asked again, what crime did Men Xiaofan commit? Lin Shitai said, taking bribes. Quanjinshu said it was impossible. I have worked with Men Xiaofan for several years and I have never found him to have this problem. Lin Shitai laughed and said, does a corrupt official still have it written on his face that he is a corrupt official? You, you are too naive in looking at people.

I rarely have great ambitions. When I was very young, I read an ancient saying, "If you don't sweep the court, how can you sweep the world?" I was very moved. Since then, I have developed a deep relationship with the broom, and I have been doing it for many years. In the beginning, I worked as an engineer, and people called me after work. My wife said that no matter how powerful the expert is, he still has to listen to the boss' orders, not to mention that you are still an engineer with an eye for nothing. Since ancient times, the only path in Huashan is to be an official. If you are not an official, you will have no future, and your wife and children will not be able to borrow your help. Listen to your wife, follow the Communist Party, drink bulk liquor, and smoke toad heads-this is the guideline that I have followed for many years. He used a broom to clear the way and swept down the alley into the government compound. That day a chief came to inspect and saw that I was sweeping the yard under the scorching sun, sweeping myself away from the world, so he asked who this person was.

The blind person is good at hearing, and the deaf person is good at seeing. With one source of absolute profit, we can use our troops ten times; if we return to day and night three times, we can use our troops ten thousand times. --"Yellow Emperor's Yin Fu Jing". It was not unusual in the 1950s for Zhang Kuiming to play the dongxiao and become China's first-class performer as a blind folk artist. Prior to this, New China had discovered the blind man A Bing who created "Two Springs Reflect the Moon". At the end of 1950, the government invited Abing to perform in Beijing, but by then he was vomiting blood every day and was on the verge of death. He regretfully said to the people who came to pick him up: "Thank you Communist Party, I'm afraid I won't be able to go." Zhang Kuiming's situation was much better. Not only did he perform in Beijing, he also entered Zhongnanhai and was received by Zhou Enlai, Zhu De and Liu Shaoqi. Two years later, he was invited to perform for Chairman Mao.

A song "Ode to Red Plum Blossoms" has aroused many people's deep memory for the heroine on Lavyan Rock who looked down upon death. Among the thousands of revolutionary martyrs who shed their lives and blood for the birth of New China. The name Sister Jiang is the most familiar to everyone. Novels, movies, and operas all eulogized her heroic deeds with passion and gave profound and moving descriptions of her glorious image. However, few people know what Sister Jiang is like in real life as a wife, mother, and friend.

Yu Huai'an, born in 1974, has worked as a farmer, wage earner, newspaper reporter, and editor of travel magazines and large literary journals. He has published novels "History of Maozhuang" and "Youth's Knot", a collection of short and medium stories "Far Away Sacrifice", a collection of short stories "I Want to Go South", etc. The day Zhao Xiaoming saw the shining railroad tracks was a warm late spring afternoon with clear skies and bright sun. On such a good day, standing at the southern foot of Jigong Mountain, you can see the hexagonal tower on the top of Yuping Peak in Youbei County, 60 miles away. Although we have never been to the county town, we often see that tower. It is not surprising. In our eyes, it is not much bigger than the one held in the hand of Li Tianwang in "Nezha Naohai". We are too lazy to look at it when we are herding cattle.

Chang Yuchun is from Huaiyuan, Anhui. Brave and good at fighting, resourceful. He followed Zhu Yuanzhang in the north and south, and made great achievements in battle. He was called the "victorious general" by the soldiers. In memory of Chang Yuchun, who died young, Zhu Yuanzhang gave him the highest honor and posthumously named Chang Yuchun the King of Kaiping. Just as the flames of peasant uprisings spread across the land of China, Chang Yuchun, who was hiding in Liu Ju's place in Mingluoshan, was extremely depressed. Because, in his twenties, he really couldn't stand Liu Ju. He wanted to go home, but he was also afraid that the township officials were finding out about him beating the little Tatar to death. He wanted to leave Liu Ju, but he had no target to defect to and did not dare to go down the mountain easily. Lan Yu, a young man who lives in the same room, is very fond of his character. Lan Yu, a native of Dingyuan, was two or three years younger than Yuchun. She came to Liu Ju because she couldn't bear the anger of the Tatars and landlords at home.

Tian Fengzhi walked out of the county Xinhua Bookstore carrying a bundle of ginseng. He looked up and saw the department store diagonally opposite. He wanted to go in and have a look before going back, but he fell in love with an erhu and wanted to buy it. So he ran to the post office and called Principal He for instructions. Principal He asked him to attend a working meeting on earthquake prevention and control held in the county. He said that the school was busy opening now and no one went to the county seat anymore. Moreover, there was a heavy snowstorm in Yanziya last night and the shuttle bus was stopped. Tian Fengzhi was a little confused as to why the school wanted to send people to attend the earthquake meeting. He asked if there was an earthquake. Principal He told him not to worry so much. Anyway, the commune informed that the school was required to send people to the earthquake meeting. Tian Fengzhi could have a meeting if he wanted to. There would be food and drink, so he agreed and asked where was the erhu? Principal He thought for a while and said, buy it, buy it, anyway, one person's car money will be missing. Tian Fengzhi never imagined that he would become an earthquake monitor.

About the author: Wang Yun, member of the Chinese Writers Association. So far, nearly two million words of prose and novels have been published and reprinted in "Selected Novels", "People's Literature", "Xinhua Digest", "Chinese Writers", "Youth Literature", "Novel Monthly", etc. Some of his works have been selected into more than 30 anthologies, including "21st Century Annual Novel Selection 2010 Short Stories", "2010 Chinese Short Story Annual Selection", and "2003 China's Best Short Stories". He has published prose collections such as "Chu Feng Traveling Through History", "Emotional Expressions Close to the Wind", "Experiencing Extraordinary Beauty", "Purity and Beauty", etc. The 7th, 8th and 9th contracted writers of Hubei Provincial Writers Association Academy of Literature. There was a clanking atmosphere in the air that day.

Although the name is Xiaoqing River, the water is no longer clear. Over the past 20 years, buildings have been built along the upper reaches, forming several residential areas. Domestic sewage has been discharged uncontrollably, and the river has become muddy and smelly. Only the two rows of poplar trees on both sides of the bank were still tall and handsome, and they still had some charm. After dinner, Liu Wenwen was still willing to take a walk along the river. In fact, Xiaoqing River is the only scenery in the community where he lives, and it feels like he has no choice. Looking back, Xiao Qinghe witnessed Liu Wenwen's life course and carried his emotions and memories. When Liu Wenwen was in elementary school, the Xiaoqing River was crystal clear. During summer vacation, he and his friends soaked in the river almost every day.

In the late 1920s, the ancient town of Ciqikou relied on convenient water transportation to become the largest distribution center for materials in the lower reaches of the Jialing River; merchants gathered in the town, and there were many shops. It was extremely prosperous. This afternoon in summer, the Jialing River floods surged, rapids rolled on the river, and turbid waves surged into the sky. It was the eighth day of July when there was a market (market), and villagers from dozens of miles around came to attend the market; the four streets of the ancient town were crowded with people, shoulder to shoulder, and the sounds of hawking and bargaining were endless. Until noon, the noise in the market continued unabated. After noon, two men burping from wine walked out of Chenji Heshui Douhua Restaurant on Jinbi Zheng Street. The two squeezed out of the bustling street, went straight to the pier, and stepped onto a cypress boat docked on the riverside. There were more than a dozen barrels of foreign oil on the small boat, and the hull was heavy.

When I pushed open the back door of my grandma's house, I was greeted by the blue-grey city walls. My field of vision was completely blocked, and I was extremely small. Passing by the layers of stone and blue bricks, looking up, the sky is squeezed very narrowly. Throwing my head to the east, my eyes ran along the city wall, and were intercepted by the prominent Yanhui Gate (South City Gate) and the round Wengcheng. The desolate strength stayed in my eyes. There are no doors or windows on the city gate tower, only the mottled red door frame is left. The north and south winds flow freely, whistling the sound of winter. On the herringbone roof, withered yellow thatch is stuck in the cracks of the tiles one after another, swaying left and right in the wind. This is the ancient city of Ningyuan more than forty years ago. At that time, Xingcheng was still a small city, and the people in the city were limited to the city walls, which were less than two kilometers in radius. Outside the city gate, known as the Four Passes, there are sparse houses, inhabited by non-farmers, vegetable farmers and farmers.

Lin Yihan established the "Our Origin" studio in the Jinwu Hotel to compile family trees for people. As your business expands, you need to recruit writers. After the recruitment notice was issued, Lin Yihan did not expect that the applicants would be so enthusiastic. Most of them are retirees, including retired middle school teachers, administrative cadres who have retired to the second line, and staff who have retired from the History Office. Lin Yihan was not satisfied with these people. The teacher's writing skills are good, but he is old-fashioned. Needless to say about the cadres, they carry teacups, read newspapers, and care too much about their remuneration. And the people in the Shizhi Office relied too much on research. Every person and thing, even a hair, must have a source. Lin Yihan doesn't need these people, they can't work. To put it bluntly, the person Lin Yihan wants must be good at lying and must be able to make up lies. It is the principle of the studio to do nothing more than to make customers happy.

Early in the morning, Jiulan had just entered the latrine and unbuttoned her pants before squatting down, when a shrill howl came from outside the low earthen wall: There is a soldier in the family, and I am a member of the glorious army... It was the crazy father-in-law who was howling! Jiulan almost peed her pants. She tightened her belt indiscriminately and ran out of the hut. She was dumbfounded. Her father-in-law, who had been crazy for more than ten years, lived alone in the old wooden house. He had been bedridden with a cold in recent days and was seriously ill last night. Why was he running around like a normal person this morning? Besides, he was holding a mahogany box in his arms. The mahogany box is the lifeblood of Mavericks, and no one can touch it, including Jiulan. Mavericks wrapped the box in oilcloth and stuffed it under the bed. He had never opened it, and the lock hanging on the leather buckle was rusty. Jiulan was in shock. As soon as she came out of the room and entered the toilet, Lao Mu came in lightly, like a ghost.

One day when I was holding a vine, I first woke up from a kiss in the village in the city. A little morning light came in from the window, and clothes were drying on the windowsill, blowing in the morning breeze, and casting swaying flower shadows on the porcelain floor. Lian Teng sleeps on the lower bunk of the bunk bed, which is covered with cotton sheets with bright peonies and phoenixes, chrysanthemums stuffed into the cloth pillows, and a thin blue flower quilt that is so old and tattered. This set of bedding was brought from home and has been used for so many years. I lay down next to an old cotton cloth and fell asleep. When I wake up, I feel at ease and particularly attached. Because it will be night again when I see this set of mattresses. The people inside got up early and were all in a hurry, washing up and heating breakfast in the kitchen. Lian Teng quickly went to the bathroom to get a basin of water, washed up, took out a comb from under the pillow, quickly combed her hair, applied some facial cream, straightened the bed, and went out loudly.

The big gray mule pulled the cart slowly and bumpily on the rugged mountain road. The driver's body was nestled on the front bumper, his head almost tucked into his crotch, and a twist whip was held in front of his chest. Several long whip tips were like willow branches in winter, swinging over the heads of the big animals not far or near. Captain Shi, who was on the other side of the carriage, had already dozed off for a while. He stretched and looked back at the two team members sitting on the box board. They were sleeping soundly as they staggered around, touching each other and squeezing each other. He asked loudly at the driver's handlebar, "Brother, I haven't seen you call "animal" for a long time. It seems like this gray mule is pulling and singing to itself. Where is it pulling us? The handlebar-style head of the guy called Brother was slightly raised from his crotch, and his eyes were still half-lidded. Don't worry, I know the way.

The vast mountains are a steely color. There are a few half-hidden and half-exposed wooden houses dotted on the mountainside. Occasionally, a few dog barks or a few roosters' crows can be heard from the wooden houses. Suddenly it fell silent again. The mountain fog starts when I talk about it. Mountain rain comes as soon as it comes. If the fog rises from the bottom of the valley to the mountainside, and the color is milky, even though the momentum is overwhelming, it must be a sunny day; if the fog rises from the top of the mountain, and the color is gray, even if it is sparse and scattered, it is definitely a rainy day. But no matter it is sunny or rainy, the first thing that wakes up the mountains is the ringing of a cowbell slowly pulled out by a cow rope... It is a painterly artistic conception. That is the taste of being able to write poetry.

Su Yunshang held on to the door frame and took a breath. If she hadn't held her sword to the ground, she would have been unable to stand. She was injured on the waist, and there were several pursuers with swords behind her. Hearing the footsteps getting closer, Su Yunshang knocked on the door. Unexpectedly, the door was only ajar, but with her strength, it opened instantly. Before Su Yunshang could be surprised, she heard a crackling movement inside. She turned around and saw that the room was covered with silk and silk. It was a tailor shop. The young tailor seemed to be frightened by the sudden intrusion of the woman. He stood up suddenly and threw his chair. Half of the satin being cut on the table fell to the ground. Su Yunshang closed the door and made a silent gesture to him. The little tailor hung his hands in the air blankly, as if to show that he was helpless.

I had heard of his name long before I met him in person. His name is Lao Cao, a little guy, but very interesting. Xia Xin returned to China to visit relatives and talked about such a person with me. She also said that when I went to New Zealand, it would be best to meet this person. She went on to tell a lot of trivial things about him. For example, he used to be a boss. After coming to New Zealand, he built houses and sold computers. Now he works as a tour guide. He is careful and warm. He can prepare his own biscuits and play CDs that match different scenic spots, and so on. During the time she stayed at home, Xia Xin nagged many times, especially when she was sitting in the booth, drinking coffee and looking at the scenery outside. I could tell she was reminiscing about some good memories.