Xiaoxiao under the wind and rain

Chapter 197 (The Wilderness)
The ghosts and ghosts in the twilight scene of Sangyu lurk in the night of my hometown.In July and a half, the gate of hell is closed. I still remember my grandfather sipping a glass of turbid wine and telling me in a daze. If I were wearing a bamboo hat and coir raincoat and hid among the weeds in the field, I would be able to see the bones of dead trees regenerated, and I would be able to see their eye sockets. The glowing firelight in the house can see the damp past of our hostile days.

The swing in my hometown is wobbly. "Nostalgia Kong sings and hears the flute, and turns to the countryside like a lanke person. The ancient wood has not decayed in ten years of running water. I was pushed far and far away by the autumn dry. I wantonly grasped the name "Free Sky". The wind is howling. Screaming, trying to escape the city mansion will pour down like depression.

The water in my hometown hides my wet memory when it was past noon in midsummer. The clear water splashed over the deep and shallow stones, and ran happily to a place called far away.The clear and lingering surface of the water reflects the youthful arrogance, fearlessness and meaninglessness.

"Always remember, there will be reverberations"

My hometown has the swaying setting sun in my memory.Can Hong was knocked to pieces, and the sound of the fishing flute whispered in my ears accompanied by the evening wind. I watched the coffins of my ancestors gradually drifting away on the mountain road, and the slow and heavy mourning and joy slowly sailed towards the mountain. Little did they know, the traces of time were hidden in the coffin, gone forever.

There are endless green branches and green leaves and young peaches and plums in my hometown.They are born facing the sun in late spring.The vines crazily climbed to the top of the wall, and the moss also soaked the gray stones.The leaves of mugwort were blown by the soft wind with silvery dark streaks, and yellow daisies crawled out of the damp clay.Nothing comes and goes, let the wind and clouds flow.

My hometown has the hope of breaking through the sky.The old diary contains my hypocritical account, I laughed and said that I should not be bound by fame when I grow up, I said that mediocrity will be my salvation, and I want to finish this journey recklessly.In this way, some old stories slowly overflowed from the diary, fluttering and scattered, competing with time to win or lose, and finally buried in mountains and rivers.

The bluestone road in my hometown buried the dust of the wind.The feet soaked in water left a string of fish-like footprints on the dry bluestone road, like Zweig's long but not redundant sentences.The conch shells in the bluestone slabs are filled with dust, and the joys and joys of many years ago have buried the footprints of generations of ancestors.

The sun is light and the years are long.I sat in front of the old TV and watched the six-year-old children weave flower letters, and I leaned on the waist door to watch the boys and girls walking by with the smell of mint in the early summer, and I imagined that I could become like them one day .

The attendees are set to leave, and we will pray once a session"

I looked at the mountains whizzing by outside the car, lying in the night like a beast, and the strangeness and fear that I had never had before climbed to my heart.Several years of urban life has finally smoothed out some edges and corners. In the transpiration life of materialism and luxury, the long nights in my hometown and the bright lights of the market.

I didn't know what I would choose. I struggled several times, whether I would come back to build this not-so-prosperous hometown when I grew up.This is how life is. I was originally a wilderness man who grew up under the protection of the mountains, but after walking around in a big city, I became a guest of the mountains.

I commemorate the passing years in the old city. There is my hometown in my heart.

He was originally a countryman, but now he is a wilderness guest.

(End of this chapter)