Ledger of Xiangyang Lane

In 2002, there was an old street called Xiangyang Lane in Northeast China. Zhou Wenkai's father opened a canteen at the entrance of the alley, with a credit book under the counter. Neighbors, whoever is short on money, write down a pack of cigarettes on credit, a pack of salt on credit, and two bottles of soda on credit in this book. That year, the Chinese team entered the World Cup for the first time, and the whole street was crowded with small benches in the alley, crying and cursing over a missed goal; that year, life in the Su family was so tight that Su Wan would rather walk around the streets picking up scraps than to be underestimated; that year, some people guarded the hospital bed, some left their hometowns, and some repeated the phrase "reluctant" over and over again without saying it out loud. Many years later, Zhou Wenkai dug out the account from the old things and understood the names that his father had crossed out: it was not that they didn't need to be returned, but that they were reluctant to part with them, that they were distressed, and that they were just a favor that no one could figure out. That was Xiangyang Lane that he could not go back to, and neither of us could go back to that era when people were close to each other and it was warm.