One summer night, I was on duty while patrolling the river.

As usual, walking by the river has become a normal part of my life, as well as eating and sleeping. There is no moon at night in Xia Meng, only stars and breeze. I really can't give up this river, which was born and raised in Sri Lanka, and I can't get along with it day and night.

Walking, the city has been left behind by me. I came to Xunbei Bridge. I know where I walk every day. The north bridge is five kilometers to the south bridge, and the south bridge is five kilometers to the north bridge. I am so familiar with the bridge opening, pier and distance of each bridge. When the first Suruga Bridge was built, I was less than 10 years old. My friends and I counted the 19-hole stone bridges made of bluestone. Every time you board the bridge, you must leave a shadow for the river. I'm afraid there are thousands of rivers in Qian Qian in my mobile phone.

Looking at the river flowing down from south to north, I feel that our county is like a child nestled in her mother's arms. Hongjun River is the mother river of this town. I believe that the emergence of our small town has gone through thousands of years and tens of thousands of years. There is a stone tablet on the road near Xunhe River in the county. This stone tablet says that our hometown was the fief of Ji, a very powerful minister of Lu in the Spring and Autumn Period. From then on, it will be 25,600 years. But Xunhe River, from a distant age, just flows, and the flowing river has nurtured generations of hometown people.

Night view of Yin Hua Bridge (Photo: Wang Chunyang)

Tonight, I walk alone in the long river. The breeze caressed my cheek and blew my hair. Cool and refreshing, my heart is very comfortable. I simply took off my coat and enjoyed the touch of the cool breeze. Just like when I was a child, my mother was touching my body. I know I can only expose my body in front of my relatives. In front of Xunhe, I exposed my body.

The wind on the river blows water waves, one after another. My thoughts roll with the waves. Our family has an indissoluble bond with this river. I remember the family stories my father told me when he was alive.

My grandfather was born in this city. /kloc-When he was 0/2 years old, his father died. My young great-grandmother became a widow. The life of orphans and widows in the city is hard. The mother and son bid farewell to their newly buried relatives and returned to the village on the east bank of the river. That was my great-grandmother's family. At that time, there was no bridge in the whole Xunhe River. How do people from the countryside enter the city? When the water is shallow, wade through it; When Xia Tianshui is big, he can only rely on ferry. A bamboo raft and a long bamboo pole ferry the three most important people in our family in the storm. Father said, grandpa and younger brother grabbed mother's skirt and returned to our present village on the wide river and in the turbulent waves. In the dark, I looked at the river by starlight and felt that the mother and son seemed to be fighting the waves.

Perhaps it was this experience that my grandfather ferried passers-by with bamboo rafts and poles in this river to support his mother and brother. During the Anti-Japanese War, a fellow villager named Meng returned to the village to mobilize the villagers to resist Japan, and it was Grandpa's bamboo raft that took him back to the village. Later, due to the betrayal of traitors, in order to avoid the search of two devils, Grandpa also propped up a long pole to cross the river overnight and hid the first guide of our village party in the dense reeds of Xunhe River. When we arrived in Huaihai, the villagers enthusiastically supported us. Grandpa and other villagers used wooden wheelbarrows to transport rations and send the wounded. One wheelbarrow after another also walked from Xunjiang to the Yangtze River.

Think like this, walk like this, I think this flowing Xunhe River is a history book, which records the living conditions of our loved ones, the history of their brave struggle with fate, and also witnesses the bonfire of the times and the smoke of the years.

For a long time, every summer, the flood soared, and my hometown people could only look at the river and sigh, looking helpless. At that time, there were no reservoirs and no bridges in the county. Especially in the flood season in June, unrestrained floods roared down, and animals, furniture and even dead people washed down from the upper reaches of the river were often seen every year.

My mother told me that in the 1960s, when my uncle was studying in City No.1 Middle School, she crossed the river to deliver meals to my uncle. It's really scary to think about it now. If there is a flood upstream, my mother will really be buried in this river.

Xun He, you are like a charitable old man. You are always kind to the people I love in times of crisis. Your kindness is like this endless river, which will last forever and benefit future generations. I am grateful to Xun He.

Finally, I hope to build a bridge over the river. That was when I was less than ten years old.

That year, many migrant workers came to the village, all of whom were masons in various villages in the county. Living in our neighbor's spare house in the east. The adults said that they came to repair the bridge and build a big stone bridge on the Xunhe River. At that time, the county overhauled water conservancy. A large reservoir will be built in the upper reaches of Xunhe River, and the first stone arch bridge on Xunhe River will be built by migrant workers in the county.

When my aunt Wang was screaming, the migrant workers who built the bridge left our village before dawn. They picked bluestones from the mountains, polished them into pieces with hammers and drills, and transported them to Xunhe River. The battle to build this bridge is no less than a battle. There are a sea of migrant workers building bridges on both sides of Xunhe River, and tractors, mules and horses shuttle back and forth. The chirping of mules and horses, the sound of horns carrying stones, and the sound of hammers beating bluestones echoed on both sides of the Xunhe River. A 19-hole stone arch bridge was built by hands and shoulders and by the flesh and blood of these migrant workers. For nearly half a century, it has become an important channel between the county and the countryside. Every time I walk on this stone bridge, I will think of the lively scene when I built it. Those simple migrant workers, those figures hunched with stones on their backs, and those labor songs that often ring in dreams have become my childhood memories. Most of the migrant workers who built the bridge in those days have passed away now. Looking at the unpretentious stones of Xunhe stone arch bridge, they are closely intertwined and closely United, and the stones are transformed into the vicissitudes of those familiar migrant workers.

Since then, my villagers are no longer afraid of the flood season of this river. This bridge has made the villagers embark on a smooth road, crossed the Xunhe River and entered the city.

Photography: Xu Aiguo

Three years ago, Hejun Park was expanded. Two bridges on Xunhe River were built at the same time. I run every day and visit the bridge site every day. There is no big scene on this site where people and animals built bridges decades ago. The long arm of the tower crane extends to both sides of the Xunhe River, and the roar of the machine replaces the sound of mules and horses. The pier deeply rooted in the middle of the river is very strong. The prefabricated bridge deck is hung carefully. I only saw pages of heavy bridge deck being gently lifted and gently put down, so gentle. I think, if my great-grandmother is still alive, she must think this tower crane is a fairy. If it weren't for the gods, who would have such divine power! No one moved, only the roar of the machine. Workers who build bridges are not as good as spectators. Passers-by praised him in succession. This guy is really great. A bridge was successfully opened to traffic in less than half a year.

From the first bridge more than 40 years ago, there were six bridges in Junhe from south to north. Every night arrival, the neon on the bridge flashes, and you can almost see the South Bridge from the North Bridge. The moonlight, starlight and lights on the river are really colorful. Pedestrians on the river runway are frequently photographed by mobile phones, and the beautiful images of Xunhe River go to all parts of the world through the Internet. The hometown people who are far away from home sincerely sigh: Pingyi is so beautiful, and the river has been flowing for thousands of years, just like a thousand-year-old show girl who is only rejuvenated today. Xunhe River has now become a beautiful business card in my hometown.

Walking by the river, my thoughts fly into distant time and space and into my clear childhood memories. When I was a child, I spent almost all the year by this river. I grew up by this river. Tonight, in the dark night, the quiet river and the starry sky, frogs croak from time to time. Frogs croak, flat and faint, like singing four-character ancient poems. Did this lovely frog jump out of Nineteen Ancient Poems? Otherwise, how can it have an antique charm? Walking on the runway by the river, I am not lonely at all. I feel that I am on duty for the mother-like Xunhe River. This is the responsibility of the son of man to stand by his mother. I clearly remember that I followed my mother to hold firewood in the Woods on the river bank. In autumn and winter, large leaves fall, and every household in the village goes to the river to pick up leaves. My mother hugged me with a big shovel, and I put it on one by one with a long thin iron wire. My sister put yellow leaves and gold leaves on with a neat twine and hung them around her neck. This kind of leaf is a valuable fuel for every household. Cooking, cooking and baking pancakes are inseparable from it. Whenever cooking, the whole village is smoking, and the smell of food is floating in the wind. I clearly remember that I like to put the leaves of this river in the oven room. The fire is red and warm. This smoke is also very thick, which often makes my mother cry. Although the leaves of Xunhe River have stopped burning, no one has gone to Xunhe River to pick them up. Although, now my hometown also uses gas. But I still miss the scene of holding firewood with my mother by the river when I was young. It seems that I often saw the smoke curling in the village when I was a child, and I often heard my mother call my name.

Walking by the river, walking by the river of time, every big tree is silent in the dark and looks at me silently like a relative. There is a tall chestnut tree by the river, which is fragrant at the moment. I like the smell, which reminds me of the red chestnuts cooked in the stove when autumn comes. The top branches of this chestnut tree have dried up, but its new branches are flourishing. I feel like our family. Although most of them are dead, they may become big trees by this river and take care of me every day.

I think all the flowers and trees on this river bank are like my relatives. I stood by the river and accompanied them. When I was a child, by the river, when the big trees sprouted, we practiced our skills on the big trees. We climbed the tall trunk and climbed to the top of the tree. The fresh leaves are a good dish cooked by my mother. I climbed up and the buds and leaves fell off. My sister picked it up under the tree and put it in a basket. When I meet a bunch of acacia flowers, I hang it in my ear and weave it into a straw hat. When plane trees and acacia trees bloom, the whole river is full of sweetness. As I walked, I left a shadow on the big trees by the river. In the light, in the breeze, the branches are shaking and the shadows are sparse. I think these trees are really beauties in trees.

Photography: Xu Aiguo

The Jun River in my hometown has become the scenery of this city. My hometown people built a park by the Jun River. A runway was built by the river, and people danced in the square by the river in the morning and evening, and the fishermen on the river bank had a good time. I have seen a patient on crutches trying to walk; I saw lovers in love by the river; I saw the expectant mother taking a leisurely walk by the river. I know this river of love is caring for every lovely life in my hometown.

Walk along the river and look at the stars all over the sky. I think the sky by the river is so empty and far away. The river flows quietly, and the lights on the other side are reflected on the river. This river is a neon world. I am reminded of Lao Du's poem: the stars are slanting down from the clearing and the moon is running up from the river. I think Tianhe fell in the Xunhe River in my hometown. Otherwise, how can the stars and the moon sleep in the river in my hometown? Wan Li, the river in my hometown is clear and starry. Walking by the river and looking at the stars, I feel so warm and bright. I really want to enter the world of stars.

On duty by the mother-like river, I listened to my favorite music, poetry and prose while walking. In the flowing melody, it seems to me that this is the song of the river. Those beautiful sentences seem to tell the story of my hometown, Xunhe. I am a stupid person. I grew up by this river, but I can't write a compliment to her. I feel sorry for my mother dredging the river. Listening to the beautiful words of those writers, listening to their distant call to their homeland, I suddenly feel that I am a happy person again. Those people who have left their homes and thousands of miles away from home in Wan Li are far away from the vast waters and oceans of Qian Shan, and homesickness is in their hearts. How can they wait by the river day and night like me?

The breeze is still blowing, the stars are still shining, the river is still flowing and the shadows are still shaking. My steps are still moving forward. Gradually, the frog stopped and the whole river was quiet. In distant cities, there is no noise during the day. I am listening to Xunhe's heartbeat in this silence, and my steps are talking with Xunhe heartily.

At night in Xia Meng, the stars are shining and the lights are flashing. I am on duty for my mother's river. ...