On February 23, 65438, the cover news APP "Huanhuaxi" published the essay "Enron, long time no see".
On February 29th, 65438, the article "Enron, Long Time No See" was published in the "Kuanzhai Lane" section of Huaxi Dushi Bao.
The text reads as follows:
Zhujiajiao Town, Qingpu District, Shanghai, the Three Kingdoms fell, the Song and Yuan Dynasties were the city, and the Millennium years were dormant in a corner, infiltrating a river, shining in the floating light, the time was quiet, and the eyes were looking forward to the first sight: Enron!
My arrival was purely accidental. From a distance, every household is connected and close at hand. Rows of Ming and Qing buildings are randomly connected and formed along the river. Some time-honored shops still retain the street flavor of the old Jiangnan; Up close, Gu Xiang, an ancient street, is hierarchical, with different widths and lengths. In the past, the North Street, where merchants gathered, was full of teahouses, restaurants and north and south groceries, and the streets were filled with antiques, ceramics and handicrafts.
Remember the smell of a place and think you have passed it. The oily hoof of thick alcohol red sauce is fat but not greasy, crisp but not rotten; Black and white crab fried rice cake, fresh and tender, endless aftertaste; Chopped snail meat, mixed with minced pork, stewed in a curved snail shell with a unique taste.
The smell of grandma's zongzi, mung bean cake and 87 coffee floated in the alley, extending from the alley to the sound of the old man playing the piano, reciting love stories repeatedly in the deep alley. Wondering whether the story in the piano is related to the girl with lilac complex in Dai Wangshu's works, in a misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, plain clothes walked to the end of the alley with an oiled paper umbrella and waited for the sound of hooves.
The protagonist may have been blurred in a certain year. As for the content of the story, no one knows and has no intention of letting people know. It sank into the Caogang River and fell asleep quietly.
On the Caogang River, the ship that has not been crossed has been stranded for a long time, and it is quietly anchored under jiefang bridge. Occasionally, tourists who take a boat to see the scenery pass by in the sound of boatmen rowing. Tourists on the bridge freeze and freeze again with their cameras, and the shutter sound alarmed the old man playing mahjong in the picture. Grandpa turned around and walked away naughtily, pretending that nothing had happened.
Crossing the bridge, there is a path paved with slate in the center of the attic and wooden house. Sporadic grass interprets the vitality and tenacity of life, and pomegranate trees born in the cracks sway freely. The mottled slate at the foot is engraved with the traces of the years, winding one by one, bearing the endings of countless stories with a calm mind all the way, silently.
Quiet and serene, a gust of wind blew, leaves turned into wings, flew several times, and finally landed in front of the lintel of a coffee shop. There are many new coffee products posted at the door, and the children outside are crying for some reason. Those crystals flashing in their eyes are like solidified amber, so transparent emotional catharsis.
Avoid the hustle and bustle of the city, you don't have to hide your emotions for fame and fortune, and you don't have to struggle to compete with a small group. Life is fleeting. You can't want nothing, you can want nothing less, you don't fight with others, you just have a wonderful encounter with time and enjoy the rare peace of mind in life.
Walking is much clearer; Look, look, the sun seems to be setting. But I can't bear it. So, it drilled through the empty space among the leaves and went deep into the alley, as if to peek into the secret of the town, read the sleeping years of the town and sort out the wet past of the town. Finally, in the kind smile of the paper-cut grandmother, it became a sweet dimple.
Those unhappy times, sad feelings, a little bit, a wisp, passed through all the alleys, swept the slate, and slowly dispersed with my visit. Those beautiful stories and unforgettable memories are stuck in the annual rings of the old trees around the alley and on the unknown petals at the entrance of the Golden Palace.
The flowers at the entrance of Yuanjin Temple are still in bloom. When I left, it was so deep, but it was hard to say. I just silently wrote the end of a paragraph.
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