Twenty-four years have passed, and I have stayed here. I go out every day. Within three steps, I can see a familiar person, and five steps away, there will be a familiar tree. Fate has left me in Liujiachang, a small town in southwest Hubei. Every day, the sun rises from the bedroom window and finally falls into the mountains in the west. Like a farmer, I work at sunrise and rest at sunset, constantly repeating my life. What about the mountain town? She is changing day by day, throwing away her former appearance day by day, and seems to be desperately catching up with the outside world. All I can do is try my best to keep Liu Jiachang in my memory forever.
old? Street
The old street in Liujiachang is narrow and paved with bluestone. After years of polishing, the bluestone slab is smooth and simple, like an old man listening to the sound of the years. I always like to walk on such bluestone, which is especially kind and appropriate. It seems to wash away your dust and fatigue.
In the past, there were shops on both sides of the old street, and the houses were not high. The side facing the street was a kind of movable wooden door, rather than a wooden door, it was a few boards with the same length. In the morning, when the shop opens the door, it removes these boards one by one and puts them on the side of the facade in order. When the shop closes at night, it puts these boards into the wooden trough one by one and locks them. This is a huge wooden door. This simple wooden door is a perfect match with this green slate. The winding old street is a long alley, which is connected with narrow alleys that it branches off, some of which can only accommodate one person. You won't get lost here, because this alley extending in all directions can be connected. When I was young, I always liked to make an appointment with my best friend and walk along the long street, whispering and listening to my own voice. At that time, I couldn't help liking Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane.
It's just that there is no such shop in Liujiachang today. It can only be in my dream. And I still like this street, and I like to take this stone road. Every time I go to buy food, I don't want to take the bustling new street, but go to the vegetable market alone along the river, although the stone slabs here have been replaced by cement, although the houses on both sides have been replaced by buildings, although I can't hear myself here. This river street is not wide, and the residents on both sides are Liu's family farm. Most of them are houses rebuilt on the original homestead, and most of them are old people living here, which has well preserved their original living habits. After getting up every day, the old people start a coal stove in the alley, the curling soot, the sound of the cattail leaf fan and the unscrupulous voice, all of which are so familiar and kind.
There is also a very special house by the river. It is just a few thick piles made of bricks, and then some purlins are ordered, covered with asbestos tiles, which I remember as thatch at first. There are no walls on all sides. In winter, it is surrounded by some blue printed sheets, and there is a stove inside, which is warm and full of houses. In summer, the blue calico sheets are torn off, and the river wind blows very cool and comfortable. A group of old people are playing cards and mahjong in this hut, enjoying their old age to the fullest. It seems that they never need to argue with the outside world, and they seem to forget the passage of time ...
I traveled to East China in the summer vacation the year before last. When I walked on the stone street in Wuzhen, when I crossed Wuyi Lane by Qinhuai River, when I saw those white walls and blue tiles, In a trance, I seem to be walking in the old street of a mountain town ...
Liu? Lin? The Liulin River, where the river
runs through the city, is just a negative textbook for children in today's mountain towns. The occupied river is full of glamorous shops, busy supermarkets, narrower and narrower rivers, mountains of garbage, stinking sewage that can never be discharged, yellow, black or gray, in short, muddy, and dead animals covered with maggots ...
Every time after the flood, most of the garbage is washed away, I often wonder where this mountain of garbage really belongs. And those plastic bags that have not been washed away are hung on the branches of small shrubs, colorful, all facing the downstream direction, as if they are still struggling to run forward, as if they are asking for something, and as if they are telling something. The river is a mess, so much so after the "Old East" (Japanese abuser)!
In their compositions, children describe the Liulin River in the mouth of their grandparents: "The willow trees on the bank of the river are shaded, and the long branches of the willow trees are like little sisters' braids, gently stroking the face of the river. In the crystal clear river, the fish are swimming happily, and the children are going down to the river to play hide-and-seek with the fish ... The Liulin River in my hometown is really beautiful! " It is said that Liulin River is named after the lush willow forest by the river.
yes! Such a Liulin River will live in our memory forever! More than twenty years ago, when we were studying in a middle school by the river, a group of teenagers often ran to the river after school. The endless lawn was our paradise. We studied here, made fun here and made some rolls here. Naughty people even go to the river to catch crabs. The river is full of pebbles, large and small. Just open a pebble and you may see a crab.
red? Room? Zi
was first associated with the red house when I can remember, when we were short of toys in childhood, we used pebbles to play the game of "catching children", or drew some squares on the ground, hopped over the house with pebbles, kicked shuttlecock with chicken feathers and copper coins, and there was another thing that we often played with, that is, bullet casings, which were real bullet casings. Almost every child will have a bullet shell, but the number is more or less. This is our most worthy toy to show off. We often come up with many game methods to win the bullet shell in the hands of our friends. Real bullet casings should be very strange and mysterious to today's children. In those days, they were just toys like pebbles in our hands, because we didn't know they were bullet casings at all! We named them "shell casings".
The first time I went out of town, I took a bus from home to see a doctor at Liujiachang. I looked curiously at everything outside the window, tall poplars, winding Liulin River and rolling mountains. The latest novelty was that when I was approaching Liujiachang, rows of red houses appeared on the roadside, with red bricks exposed. From a distance, the whole house was that kind of quaint red, which was particularly eye-catching among green mountains and green waters. Adults told me that this place is called "agricultural machinery".
The houses here are different. There is a colorful sea of flowers in front of every house, and some people have a grape trellis in front of them! The people here seem to be different, and their clothes are very different from those of the farmers around them. The clothes are the kind of bleached color, which is in sharp contrast with the clothes of the farmers, and it shakes my heart like that. Life in the red house is mysterious to me and I yearn for it. This is the earliest picture of the city in my heart!
It was several years before I realized that this place was an arsenal, and all I saw on the roadside was the family area of the arsenal. The real factory was in the mountains behind, and the bullet casings we used to play with when we were children came from here.
because of its special geographical location, liujiachang was once a very popular industrial town more than 2 years ago. Agricultural machinery, mining machine, Dongfeng tool factory, provincial cement plant and 461 power plants all settled in the mountain town. At that time, the mountain town was very lively and had unprecedented prosperity, even surpassing Xinjiangkou, where the county government was located at that time. The workers in these factories and mines speak a language that is different from the dialect in Shanzhen. Most of them are full of Chinese dialects, and some of them are children of workers from other regions or provinces. In later life, they abandoned their parents' language and gradually became Chinese. Hankou dialect has become a common language within them, so don't be surprised when you listen to those exaggerated Chinese dialects. In fact, they are all "strangers" living in Shanzhen, and their language is superior to theirs. They all live in the red house.
I remember that my deskmate was a girl with glasses. Her long hair was black and straight, her skin was obviously much whiter than ours, and her temperament was very noble. Her fluent Chinese accent made us children from rural areas envious, and my little self-esteem drove me not to say a word to her, because we were from two different worlds. She was a miner, and her sister was the announcer of Dongfeng Tool Factory, so she could borrow many good-looking books. At that time, we were all fans of Qiong Yao. She took one to school every day and showed it to me after reading it, so we got closer and became good friends. At that time, I thought her Chinese accent was really good, and I especially liked it. When two people make fun of each other ten minutes after class, she always drags a long Chinese accent and coquetry: "Don't touch me!" " It sounds like saying, "Don't love me!" Suddenly one day they moved away, and all the people in the red house went empty. Her name is Jiangxia. When Qiong Yao's works are broadcasted on TV, I always think of her and the girl who read with me. I wonder if she is all right now?
Fate is sometimes unexpected. That year, I was loaned to the children's school of 461 Power Plant, just to survive, and I lived in a red house! The school is built in a ravine near the river, and the gurgling river keeps flowing all year round. The school is backed by mountains, with all red brick houses and iron gates. I stayed here for five years, witnessing the power plant from prosperity to decline and finally disintegration. Fate connected me with the children in the factory. I taught them hard, taught them knowledge, taught them how to have a good habit, and taught them some principles of being a man. Their parents also appreciate me very much, and several of them are the same age as me. They will come to talk to me after school, talk about children and talk about home. Nowadays, children have already gone to all parts of the motherland with their parents. I am afraid that their Chinese accent has long been lost. I wonder if they still remember the school in the mountains? Do you remember the rows of red houses?
side dishes and mapo tofu
liujiachang doesn't have a decent breakfast shop, and sometimes it goes too early. Occasionally, you can hear people who seem decent express their feelings: "I am most afraid of having guests at home for the night, so it's too early to take them out in the morning." Most people who say this are those who get rich.
But no matter which breakfast shop you go to, you can hear the warm greeting from afar. After you choose a clean place to sit down, a bowl of steaming noodles has already been brought to your table, or a bowl of mung bean porridge, plus a butterfly steamed dumpling, or a bowl of tofu brain, plus a fried dough stick or a rice cake. The varieties are still quite rich, and my best ones are the ones provided by the store for free.
Without these side dishes, you might feel that there seems to be something missing in life, and the ones I often go to are more likely to make a dish of butterfly side dishes.
Ten years ago, there was a restaurant in Wan Tan, which was one of the few restaurants in the mountain town. Unlike the restaurants that have sprung up like mushrooms after rain now, sometimes I really doubt that there are more people eating in this restaurant. That restaurant is the only place we can go. It's close to where we work, and the price is reasonable. I can often order only one dish-Mapo tofu, which is cheap and affordable. A piece of tofu is quickly cut into small squares with the same size in the chef's hand. After a spoonful of oil is put into the pot, it begins to creak. When the oil is hot, pour the tofu into the pot, fry it a little, and several sides are brown. Then add some lean meat powder, stir-fry it in the pot, then add pepper, minced garlic, spicy and fresh bean paste, continue to stir-fry, add a little water, stew the tofu, and let the tofu taste. The fragrance that has already filled the air stimulates your nerves. When you really pick up the bowl, you will feel that the delicacies are so much!
To tell the truth, I haven't liked tofu for many years, because I can't eat Mapo tofu that I will never forget. I always feel that the tofu tastes strange now. I wonder if there is something wrong with my taste?
With the reconstruction of North Street, the relocation of food market, and the construction of General Square, many tall buildings have sprung up. Standing on the spacious and tidy streets of the town, I can't see her old face. Those who left their hometown may never come back. What are the people staying here waiting for?