Aunt Yu’s craft is very good. I actually opened my stomach pouch and ate a red cat carp of seven pounds. Braised carp is freshly salvaged and cooked, and peeling the golden fish skin is a scent of appetite. The white and tender fish mouth is slippery but not greasy, and seems to have melted before touching the tip of the tongue. The meat has been swallowed, and Yu Xiang still stays between his teeth, with an aftertaste. Steamed pork and local chicken are also specialty foods here, and in terms of food alone, they enjoy the unique cuisine of the world.

We decided to stay here. First, because of the inconvenience of transportation, I did n’t have a car to go back to the city after lunch; second, I was greedy for Aunt Yu ’s good craftsmanship, and I wanted to eat again;

Early the next morning, I pushed open the door and walked to the balcony, breathing the fresh and slightly sweet air, inexplicably excited. For a time, I germinated the idea of ​​trying to abandon everything in the world and live here.

Aunt Yu brought thick white rice porridge and a plate of steaming homemade sour cabbage. When Aliang reached out and paid for it, Aunt Yu pushed back gently, making us relatively stunned. This free breakfast makes us wonder whether we should lament our worldly heart, or rejoice in improving the simple and simple folk customs of Likeng?

Living in the countryside will develop good work and rest habits. To fall asleep early, see the night as the bedding under the cover. So I can get up early and feel the heat of life. Everyone is full of vitality, repeating their own daily lives.

The former majestic nudes have withered away here. The remaining creations were not abandoned, but instead converted to this land and carried the children of future generations. In the early morning, what did the smoke rising from every household show? Will the ancestors of the cloud be relieved to weep because of their descendants Anping Leye?

When Aunt Yu excitedly introduced Shangshudi and other monuments, I couldn’t help feeling a little panic, for fear of offending the predecessors underground because of my ignorance. Are those bureaucrats in history really worth pointing for thousands of years? It is said that every house is inhabited, and most of them are direct descendants of ancestors. When they rest in bed, they have a pretentious intoxication? Or refuse to reflect on history? These are only clear to them.

We went around Houshan and climbed halfway up the hill to see the panoramic view of Likeng. Hundreds of ancient buildings of comparable size have a panoramic view, the mountain wind is slowly, there are many pointers, and they are moved by the Fang chief. The strange thing is that although the houses are dense and cluttered, they are not cluttered. After I asked them, I learned that the whole village was built on the basis of the Eight Diagrams. I think that the ancient well that had been hit since the Song Dynasty and never dried up was the center. But now, it is used to raise some ice spring purse red carp to entertain tourists.

Walking through winding streets and lanes, savoring the traces of life, I feel that I have merged into the national footsteps thousands of years ago. They are so stubborn and ready to steer the historical ships to the end of life.

Facing the sky, Likeng stood alone. Deep joy and deep sorrow in life are countless in this world. Turned to Miss Pavilion, heard the sad story, and then found that the room was full of desolation. In the empty hall of Shangshu, there are stalls selling antiques. Only the empty walls and beams ridiculed in hundreds of holes. No one understands their language, and no one can see their glory and tears.

Under the pile of Chinese cabbages hanging upside down, Aliang put up a simple easel and covered it with a square white cloth. He stroked the canvas with thick paint, brushstrokes like the old road. Aliang’s hair fluttered in the breeze, as if in that interlaced space, his thoughts had already drifted towards a long history.

I leaned halfway against the wall and in the corner, and saw the old man on the bridge with a cane basking in the sun, the young woman on the river bank washing, the brave man talking and laughing on the road, and the wine flag waving and time passing. I saw A Liang’s focused expression, like the canvas in his hand, illusion of various hints.

The hatred of history and the tremor of history have long been washed by thousands of rains. Now Enron is just awe-inspiring. Life tends to be dull, and the surge of life surge is lost. However, without big ups and downs, without noise, there would be no boredom, and without oppression, there would be no confusion.

Likeng Village fell into deep thinking, day after day. The villagers’ lives are calm and watery, flowing to a farther distance.

A place of tranquility that is slightly lonely due to tranquility and a little arrogant. Unless you are close to it, you can abandon the alienation in the prosperous city. It is located in the deep boudoir but it is not hidden, it seems so sincere. The deeper you can feel the pure tranquility and simplicity, it gives everyone a sense of belonging and the illusion of possession.

How many prosperity and disgrace were engraved on that corridor bridge? And when will the cycle of reincarnation from the creation and destruction of mourning to the ruins ruin end?

Compared with the sky above the head and the ground underneath, compared with the free-flowing century-old trees and the solid and unstressed earth, how short-lived are those historical representations.

The vastness of the past seemed to disappear suddenly in only a moment, and only us tourists who had sought to steal a moment of relief to escape from the usual hustle and bustle. After we left, Peng stayed lonely here, and forgotten all the ancient and obvious philosophy of life.

After leaving Wuyuan’s last stop, we went to Jiangling.

It is a country of rolling terraces. The golden rapeseed blossomed everywhere, spread like a dragon robe. The emblem-style buildings with white walls and gray tiles are dotted in the valleys. The ancient trees give people a sense of comfort, and the flowing water sings melodious songs.

Here is probably a totem hidden by Buddha. Mysterious but open, quietly holding up a spiritual Hongqiao. The hundred-year-old tree is always awkward in front of it, and always looks calm and indifferent. The reflection in the water is more breathtaking than this real world, like the grand legacy of the villa in the fairyland.

Neither Aliang nor I was looking forward to seeing you again next time, so we lived to the fullest today and the present.

Here, there is no innocence on parole and abandon repair. The villagers continued their lives in the plain of sunrise and dawn. We calm ourselves in the night of Jing Lai, forgetting the worldly admiration and torture and torture, but after all, we still have to return to the hustle and bustle.

We are so obsessed with this inexplicable temptation. I don’t know if they have some kind of desire that will lead to extinction?