The prose of Chengshan ancient city has a long ancient meaning, blowing in the wind.

In my impression, as long as there is a connection with "ancient", it is bound to be full of ancient traces and relics. A pavilion, bricks and tiles are covered with moss traces of time. With a yearning heart, during the holiday, some literary friends of the small town and I went to Chengshan Ancient City, 40 kilometers away from Zhuanghe City, and visited this small town tourist area which integrates cultural relics, temples and landscapes. The desire to find the past has long been ahead of the craze.

Huokeji limiye area

Follow the crowd into Hokkeji. Like most temples, the main hall and the wing provide for their own gods. The houses are carved with beams and painted with buildings in various colors. And I have been afraid to go into the temple, so I stopped in the quadrangle surrounded by the temple. A line of people also stopped here, looking around and pointing.

It is said that Huokeji, which was built in the Jin Dynasty, was once full of incense and worshippers came in an endless stream. However, after 1500 years of changes, standing in the once glorious templo mayor, I only feel a little unspeakable loneliness and desolation. In late autumn, there are few tourists, and there is not a wisp of cigarettes floating around in the huge temple. I can only sigh that Hawke is old. It's just that the sunshine in autumn is beautiful. How much sunshine falls in front of the temple, and a butterfly stops safely on the concrete platform, which has become a scene of life in my eyes. Maybe it was looking for a flower, so it kept flying and looking, and finally felt that all the places with flowers in this temple were fake flowers, with color and no smell. I don't know where the feather wings should fall. Let's borrow a ray of light and see our own shadow.

Butterflies flapped their wings in the autumn sun and flew. When it flew, I found a bunch of wild chrysanthemums growing in the corner of the house. The finely divided flowers are gorgeous and bright. On the temple, dancing with the breeze. I think it's been a long time since anyone took care of it. Weeds are overgrown under the eaves, and the graceful wild chrysanthemums reveal a trace of loneliness. They are all former swallows of Wang Xietang.

A fierce Koguryo once competed in the northeast and occupied the mountainous area as their camp. And more than a thousand years of clouds are erasing all this bit by bit, you can only imagine the prosperity and eulogy silently; We can only infer the glory of Buddhism from the few remaining inscriptions.

When he left, a bell in the southeast corner of the temple aroused everyone's interest. The dusty ancient clock is like a big morning glory, which has been open for thousands of years with cigarettes. If it could talk, what would it say to the rise and fall of Hockey? I couldn't help jumping over the ceiling and patting the old clock. The bell floated out in silence and the silk thread dispersed. I haven't seen enough, and I want to dance again. Suddenly, someone reminded me not to ring the bell easily. Retract, I noticed a sign next to the ancient clock reminding me that "nothing is allowed to ring the bell!" " It has long been explained that ringing the bell in the temple is a thing, and I accidentally broke the taboo. Hurry and pray silently in your heart. I am merciful and don't blame people who don't know.

Watch the mountain carefully.

Climbing the stairs and climbing all the way to the top of the mountain, a winding city wall appeared, which was the so-called "observation deck" at that time. Goguryeo soldiers stood on this observation tower and overlooked the enemy soldiers. It used to be a place of military command and played an important role as a military hub. Now, from this observation deck of tens of meters, there are no traces of wartime.

Every crib is paved with brand-new bluestone. No holes, no damage. There is no dust washed away by the rain in the sky and the earth in the bluestone. Where else can I look for that ancient meaning? It is said that the watchtower of that year was covered with trees in the mid-levels and covered with traces. You can't see the old look of the watchtower from the tile base. As a result, the old look was boldly replaced by a new look, and there was a winding new outlook that we see now. This restoration has opened a deep gap between today and history. Is it an accessible thought? I wonder if the historian will cry when he comes.

Stand in front of the waist-high crib and blow. The late autumn wind blows from the southeast wind, and the light hair is lifted by the wind, which is a little cool and comfortable. Looking down, you can see the magnificent mountains, which are colorful and endless. In late autumn, thick ink and heavy color powder makeup appeared, with great momentum. Unconsciously, I was in a good mood and walked up and down the stone steps paved with bluestone. I feel like I'm on the runway. Heaven and earth are a huge stage, blue sky and white clouds are colorful lights, mountains and thick ink are dazzling backgrounds, and I am the woman who advocates freedom. Only freedom is the thought of life.

Since ancient times, women have always been indispensable in wars. It is said that Gai Xiuying, the sister of Gai Suwen, the ruler of Koguryo, once dressed up on a square observation deck here. Beauty, exposed to the morning dew and the sound of the waves, a head of hair poured down and fluttered with the wind. The little girl's feelings are really charming to the extreme.

I want to leave with an old stone from an ancient cradle. However, no matter where you look, there are no old stones. The so-called old stone is buried in the soil and sleeps under the pine and cypress. What follows me is only a wisp of historical dust.

The rice mortar is full of antiques.

I always wanted to find a real antique when climbing the mountain, but because of repeated reconstruction and maintenance, the walls and terraces I saw were not what they used to be. Then this mountain is no different from other mountains, and this temple is similar to other temples. The so-called Tao and Buddha, the so-called curling smoke, are just a bunch of lifeless words in literature. I'm not depressed.

When going down the mountain, several female colleagues had a good time. I picked a handful of yellow wild chrysanthemums and held them on my chest with a bright smile. I didn't waste the time from the mountains. My brother and I walked down the stairs empty-handed. Shadows are dancing and birds are chirping. What I can imagine in my chest is a handful of autumn colors.

On the way, I met a big stone, one meter away from the roadside. At the same time, we see a round hole in the stone, the diameter of which can be as long as the open palm. My brother leaned forward and picked out the dirt and debris from the hole with a branch. Such a round hole as deep as a foot has aroused everyone's curiosity and many comments. Some people say that it was used by the ancient army to insert flagpoles. Someone immediately questioned that the flagpole was not so large in diameter and could not be inserted. A 70-year-old brother pondered it and said that it should be a rice mortar used by the army for cooking at that time. Cooking only knows how to wash rice, not how to pound it. My learned brother explained that at that time, rice had no place to shell, so it could only be milled and shelled in this stone trough. He added that it should be a class or a class's rice bowl, and there won't be too many people eating it.

After listening to this explanation and looking at the rice mortar covered with fallen leaves, I feel that this moment has touched the pulse of history slightly. This pulse was forgotten by the reconstructors of the ancient city. Or they didn't find such a relic in the mountains at all, which really showed the fireworks closest to the world on the ancient battlefield. If you look closely, there may be many such relics hidden in the jungle, but they are too small to be renovated. Or it can't be a grand and magnificent building after transformation. So such a relic will really become a relic, silent for thousands of years. I can only have a silent conversation with the boundless green hills and the bells and drums in the morning.

I'm not an archaeologist, just a tourist. But in the ancient city, I always want my soul to have a luxurious crossing and rediscover the fragments of clouds and smoke scattered between ancient roads. But the Millennium ancient city is more like a new city, with new sights and new looks everywhere, and it has lost contact with the "ancient". Calling it an "ancient city" seems far-fetched and artificial.

The Millennium ancient city and I are always separated by a thick veil, and we are disappointed.