My hometown in northern Shaanxi is my eternal dream.

In the hometown of northern Shaanxi, the trees and grass have covered the barren ridge that people are used to thinking. Occasionally, there are more birds and swallows chirping in the ditches in Shan Ye, and even wild pigeons and pheasants chirping, which subconsciously gives birth to a carefree and eager spring breeze to accompany me home. The warm sadness and resentment that have been hidden in my heart are picked up by my mind at will. With the ups and downs of time, it is getting heavier and heavier.

The unforgettable scenes in my hometown are like a picture scroll that never fades, and the eight wisps of random and fragrant smoke that are scattered around me forever; Soil base or blue brick hoop is a cave where it is warm in winter and cool in summer and firewood is burned at night. In front of the house, there are ancient Jun Gao, not losing the old pagoda tree of Cooper in Xuanyuan Temple and the sturdy swing that Tomb-Sweeping Day hangs on the branches of the pagoda tree with a well rope every year and swings around by men and women. The arid plateau, always tied to the waist by the owner, looks like a locked cellar that can collect rainwater to quench thirst for many years; That mother-in-law Yang's life is chaotic and annoying, but occasionally her children and grandchildren pass by, and she can leap and jump to catch the dusty old man who pulled the cock, the lazy pig who ran around in the narrow street, drive away the dirty cat and mad dog, and the Doby idle chicken and donkey, and take a closer look at the scenery where the stubborn cow chews and spits.

Tianzhuang Town Houxiang Natural Village is the largest village on the northern edge of huangling county, Yan 'an City, Shaanxi Province. Although I was not born in this place because my parents worked in other places, I spent the hardest and sweetest time in my life in this small town where there is no mixed surname except Ge. This is really my hometown, because my grandfather, my father and I are the oldest in the family, and we are naturally the heads of families according to family rules, and also because I have been working in other places for a living these years. There are red and white things in my hometown before I go back to my hometown. Although Chen Yi, who takes care of me, is new and occasionally fresh, those close relatives in the village are quite strange. Every time I go back to my hometown, I will cross the road and enter the kiln with many sincere greetings, and put my old heart on the blazing heatable adobe sleeping platform. Because I am old, I will get used to being called my brother sooner or later. I will always occupy the loess hills here as my final destination.

Spring breeze doesn't understand love, but it's hard to miss you and disturb the world of mortals. Although the wanderer is in Wan Li and Wan Li, his homesickness has solidified into a sweet fragrance, which haunts me all the time and nourishes my soul. Those bumps and bumps in my hometown or other places have induced me to become an old and reckless person. The world is full of noise and noise. The struggle for fame and fortune has made my heart as silent as smoke and always contains my share. I'm used to falling down and getting up, I'm used to having nothing, I'm used to getting hurt again and again, I'm used to being lonely at night, the tossing and turning of Huangqiangwu village in brick kilns and clay yards and the sleepless night when I packed my bags in a hurry and wandered around the world have all become a dream in exchange for a period of time on the world of mortals, and occasionally I write down the dusk in the dusk of my life, and the memories of chewing are mottled and let go. How many romantic moments when you sang and I appeared have turned into the sky.

Wandering in the world for decades, the rolling red dust has quietly changed its appearance, and the falling dust tells a bumpy monologue. How many tears have you suffered? How many rivers of hardship and sweat have you crossed? How many wings do you want to fly? Can you reach the other side of the ideal? No longer intoxicated with the colorful and strange short-term fantasy, let the years wash away the vast smoke and dust, float away the last cloud and enjoy the sunset.

Walking through the snow, chasing the sweet smile in the beautiful scenery in the dream; Touching the stars releases arrogant hope in my heart. The catharsis of the day has been swallowed up by the night, and everything has settled in a quiet teacup, perfunctory with the hypocrisy of the cliff of the soul, and willfully listening to the intoxication of lies. Quietly waiting for the hardships after deviant, Bi Tianyi suddenly lost her lingering rhyme and flowed around the six-string guqin.

You have a deep dream for your soul. Love and forgiveness sing of the infinite in the world, and you cling to false persistence. Parents look at each other, blurring the joys and sorrows of the world and showing off the loneliness of the courtyard. The cruelty of helplessness is suffocating, and this lonely journey was completed in a hurry. Even if you are afraid of going home empty-handed to serve your parents, you will complain about filial piety, forgetting the sun during the day and the stars and moons at night. Why not go back to your hometown?

Buddha said: no matter whether you are poor or rich, you can cut through the dust and read all the customs; For better or worse, throw it away and realize it. Although the Zen language with low voice and shallow rhyme is crystal clear, I have not forgotten to make great efforts to make good use of it; Opportunistic to put porridge like a mirror; Fight for the temple; Fight for the size of a vegetarian meal, and Lengmei is vicious. Buddhism is pure and empty, how can my heart be pure from Buddhism? In my cold hometown, I use a pen to lift things that can only rot in my stomach. I am drunk and speechless with anger. I closed my eyes and my heart sank, letting the ups and downs cool down and flow back into my intestines. Love and hate affect the goodness and weakness of human nature.

To know how to cherish, to know how to remember when you have tasted too many flavors, this is a long way. In life, in addition to affection, love and friendship, there are homesickness that is expected to be romantic, warm and unforgettable. When you grow up and get old, it seems that there is still an invisible force pulling homesickness. When I think of it, I am no longer sad and quiet, but my mind is full of homesickness. No matter how many people are old, homesickness is still attached to the flowers and plants in the world like the four seasons.

People are not vegetation, who can be ruthless? Regardless of the sudden wind and rain, it is intoxicating to be honest with each other and care for relatives in my hometown. One flower, one world, one tree and one bodhi, no matter how lonely the world is, staying with one's hometown and relatives is a wonderful soul-robbing love. Life turns in the fleeting time, homesickness is refined, homesickness is concerned, and thoughts spread in the vast world.

Although the original concern can't be as fresh and mellow as tea, it occupies the body and mind, making people forget the lingering prayers and blessings forever. Feelings remain the same, and three generations will not change their minds. I firmly believe that there is no clear understanding until the final meeting. I know that without the persistence of melting blood, there is no calm persistence, which seems to be silent but firmly hinders the return of my tenderness. How many beautiful stories can't compare with affection, love, friendship and nostalgia. Leave a pure land in my heart and invite those who love me, those who love me and those who hate me to enjoy the life feast of this world. Maybe I can talk to the earthen kiln in my hometown, one grass, one wood, one brick, one tile and one roof again, until I turn to ashes and dive into the dust to enrich my ancient and magical hometown!

The second is.

The sun froze, and the residual snow on my back was a little shy. The birds that once danced wildly in Yuan Shang have disappeared. The old trees on the edge of the street trembled and twisted their branches naked, but there was a lot less kindness in the local accent that I had chewed in my heart. Although I left my hometown when I was young, because I am the boss of our generation and the future patriarch, I will receive many kinds of greetings every time I come back, so I cross the street through the sound.

A 100-year-old Sir Zhong drove the crane to the west, and I came back, as if I should have an agreement with death, so I knelt behind me with many younger brothers I didn't know, and looked at my 80-year-old elegant-looking old father, crying respectfully and sincerely.

There are two rows of small benches beside the driveway. Sitting on a high bench are San Ye, Wu Ye and their grandfathers' sons. Almost all people have a burning cigarette in their hands and a spare cigarette in their ears. On the lower bench sat several grandparents and mothers who were already grandmothers. They came out on time to bask in the sun. Today, the weather is gloomy, the sun is flickering, and the cold wind is whistling along the alley. In fact, they did.

Because of Mr. Zhong's death, they had the topic of regaining their memories. When men loudly re-emphasize the beauty and magnificence of Mr. Chewing Zhong, they still don't forget to turn their rice soup into a kind of beauty and magnificence like a story or legend. The smoke they spit out ran with the wind, but what they said once floated into the ears of the younger generation and became the history of the story. Nurses are whispering about the love that Mr. Zhong may or may not have had, but they forced a handsome Mr. Zhong to create their ideal true love. Because of this relationship, they gave birth to subtle snickers, and even a touch of apple red flew up on their faces.

They seem unwilling to mourn for Mr. Zhong, who has just passed away, because in their seemingly indifferent hearts, they know that the day when they often go to sleep may come at any time. Since there is a damn day, why do they make themselves nervous and panic? Although everyone is a little impatient, they really don't want to give up impatience as an excuse.

It's time for dinner. As soon as the gongs and drums are played, they are anxious like children, because this is a play for the death of Mr. Zhong, and they are the audience who must be present. So, let's eat and watch, while holding it, and let everything that comes into our eyes stay or hide in our hearts.

The town has lost its familiarity in memory, but it has become more familiar with many fashions. In the case of brothers and sisters gathered in the world, the mother still obeyed the extravagance and even boldness of her father's funeral. My mother has led my father all her life, but she is often intoxicated by seemingly majestic nagging, and still has to give in to my father's lovely debauchery again and again.

Dad is an old pedant with a lot of books in his stomach. He is usually strict but kind. Every time my hometown encounters any wedding or funeral, my father, who was ready to run away, was praised by many younger brothers' "bosses" and gave birth to a rocket with a booster. At this moment, his father gave birth to 100% cuteness with dignity.

Grandparents have lived long enough to let future generations cook, but they can't stand the abomination of time. Now, only San Ye and Wu Ye, who is nearly 100 years old. Loose leaves are still basking in the sun alone, and Wu Ye is still crowding round to watch the lonely stove. My parents are old, and I am used to being called brother. Why don't I suddenly feel old? Since we are all old, are we far from this ancient village and the yellow land of this village?

The third is.

It's cloudy and my eyes are wet. I'm already on my way back, and the wheels are as urgent as I am at the moment. Last night, my father, who was full of books, gifts, filial piety, benevolence and virtue, called me and told me that he would proudly erect a monument in Lapras for his second father who drove a crane to the west at the age of 100 and show it to the public. For this matter, the mother with strong words really didn't want to refute her father's licentiousness for a long time. My mother was heartbroken because of her nephew Liu Minsheng, who died at noon yesterday at a young age. I have to come back from Xi 'an to cook all kinds of troubles with my parents and attend the funeral of my cousin's bad karma. In recent years, I seem to be really old. Every time I am called back to my hometown, I basically attend the funeral of my old relatives. It seems that I am really close to death and have an appointment with it.

The vulva outside the window is foggy, and it will be fine tomorrow. I don't expect to get used to seeing the sun that always feels old and lacks freshness today. The sound of wheels rolling over the road is as miserable as tearing skin and cracking meat. This disturbing sound lured my memory back to one day three years ago: it was for Mr. Zhong, who died in the underworld at the age of 100. At that time, he was carrying pigs to the streets, and a strange little brother who followed me told me that an old woman had been staring at me and the sacrificial procession. That's my tearful big picture. I grabbed my hand and greeted him. I wanted to invite Zhang Zi to my hometown, but she gave me the cold shoulder. Alas, she is still complaining about my great uncle's death, and I didn't go home. She smiled and was scolded lightly, and finally invited her old man in.

The arrival of Da Zhangzi brought the cave full of sadness. It turns out that my second cousin Minsheng has been hospitalized in Xi 'an for vomiting blood. 78-year-old Zhang Ziyi walked more than ten miles to the town early in the morning and gave money to his cousin who was hospitalized in Xi 'an. Da Zhangzi was born in a big family. She was a young girl's milkmaid. She married my grandfather's eldest son who begged from Shandong to Shaanxi during the famine, but she didn't live a happy life. She had no choice but to adopt two sons and a daughter of Ling He, a scholar, and her children grew up. The scholar who got married and had children became a baiwenhang, but she lived across the wall and had no contact with her uncle's house. Linger married far away, and only this sick young man kept the people's livelihood by her side with filial piety.

More than 20 years ago, Minsheng's wife left her two sons and a daughter aged 1 to 10 to defend her sacred and unique love with railway workers. Since then, no woman in the people's livelihood has dared to marry him, nor has she continued to marry. With the help of relatives, they have sponsored three children to become college students, and all of them have married and lived in other provinces. Just as they were enjoying themselves, the great uncle had passed away and the people's livelihood was so sick that the great nephew had to run around in tears. Tears flow one by one, and words are said one by one. Zhang Zi should go back. My mother, my elder sister, my second sister and I each took out a few hundred dollars and stuffed them into her hand to show mutual comfort. They sent them to the street and bought a few cigarettes, a few jins of tea boxes and a few bottles of wine, which made her old man set foot on the mountain road home with tears in his eyes. The figure of Zhang Zi's departure has become looming. My mother and son, mother and daughter are crying.

Who would have thought that my cousin, who is two years older than me, was dragged from poverty to decline because of the money spent on taking medicine for a long time, and was tortured by illness for nearly three years. He finally spat it out at noon yesterday and didn't take it back. In this way, he ended his sad life that resembles the Chinese style in troubled times, leaving his 80-year-old nephew to go to the ghost country and leaving him a lonely and sick person.

The sun has not penetrated the clouds, and the air will always exist. Adversity and hardship, sadness and pain, understanding and listening, patience and tolerance, silence and eruption, meeting and acquaintance, knowing and loving each other, hating and parting, years and rings crush and solidify thoughts, leaving a good impression, leaving only a sudden helplessness to pursue the distance, no perfection, and a name and two dates on the bluestone board.

I didn't practice playing dumb with my heart, and I didn't have time to learn to let go. The sound of the storm, the scorching sun, the cold weather, the soft and cold thoughts deposited in my heart, the warm thoughts at the end of my life, and the strong and pure concern for teenagers all appeared in front of me with traces of time. Spring goes and spring comes, and the grass wakes up. It is difficult to wither and wither in winter, like a meteor, like a soul falling and being taken away.

Born in tears and joy, left in tears and resentment, did life choose a destination before departure? Although I can't control it, I still want to control my life and death. Yesterday, today and tomorrow, I closed my eyes and built an end point, burying mediocrity and fame in a mound grave.

In fact, there is a family, and a little happiness or bitterness is a lifetime. They all say that they don't have to ask too much, don't expect too much, but they are secretly trying to make themselves stand out and become lucky dragons and phoenixes. They just happily pushed themselves to decadence and depravity, stinking and impetuous, and they struggled to harvest the memorable past. They were desperate for the future, but they spent it helplessly, and grievances were always entangled, and finally. Or is it the late song of life precipitation and life accumulation?

You and I, who are really stupid in the thousand-year tenderness, are like actors dressed as makeup faces, vividly interpreting a dream of reincarnation. Life and death is a carefree past, but there are still heaven and hell in legend, and finally we should study the soul!