Hutang Road is an ancient post road on the south bank of Taihu Lake that still exists today.

From Hengshan to Qidu Wuyu, along Taihu Lake's "Thirty-Six Rivers and Seventy-two Ports", there are actually small rivers running from north to south. On both sides of each river, there are villages. Hutang Road has large and small rivers.

The villages were connected together and became a traffic thoroughfare.

There is a stone bridge called "Tangqiao" on every small river along Hutang Road. Most of them are single-hole bridges or three-hole stone arch bridges, with different styles.

My old house is close to Miaogang Old Street, which is also Hutang Road.

I still vaguely remember that there is Miao Harbor right outside my house. The river is clear and boats can come and go.

Lions Bridge is less than a hundred meters away from home. The bridge is very old and very small, with mottled cement particles standing out. Only a pair of small stone lions stand proudly on the railing at the head of the bridge, full of energy.

There used to be a fish shop next to the bridge. The ground inside was always wet, and the people inside were always wearing rain boots and leather jackets. When you walked through the door, there was always a slightly disgusting smell of fish.

There is a red brick house on the south side of Shiziqiao, where a group of dark-skinned middle-aged men gather. They are porters and loaders.

You have to pay them to transport bricks and sand and so on.

In the winter and summer, we walked on a long and narrow springboard with our hands on our backs. Sometimes the boat was low, the river bank was high, and the springboard was steep. Every time we walked, it was a high-risk move. They often shouted dull chants, with the same rhythm, one step at a time.

Stepping hard towards the shore... The narrow old street is connected to the narrow Hutang Road on the east and west ends.

I started from home, passed half of Miaogang Street, and then walked a few miles on Hutang Road, and my grandma’s house was not far away.

A pond bridge to the west of Lion Bridge is called "Lixian Port Bridge". According to legend, the Taihu Lake area was once the place where Fan Li and Xi Shi went boating together to retreat to seek refuge, so they were named after "Lixian".

Hutang Road takes a few more turns at Lixian Port because it is a large village.

The farmers along the road have a drying field (rice field). Many people also open up a little crop land around the drying field and plant onions, garlic, etc., cook tofu in the back room, and go out to pick garlic leaves, without delaying a simple meal.

The making of gourmet food.

It is built with bricks and a smooth cement board is placed on top. This is the washboard that every household has.

A well is often dug next to the board. When washing clothes and quilts, there is a "plop" sound, the bucket goes down into the well, the pull rope is raised, the bucket somersaults in the well water, one bucket is full of water, and another one is left and right.

, alternately pulling up a bucket of water.

Some wash with a washboard, some scrub on a cement board, and some wash with their feet in a basin. Some women are very strong, and the water splashed by washing on the cement board can even splash when walking on Hutang Road.

Pedestrians on the road... In the summer evening, both sides of Hutang Road are full of people enjoying the cool air. People along the road splash well water early in the morning, and the water is quickly sucked up by the hot ground. It doesn't take long for the ground to become cold.

At that time, a bamboo bed could accommodate a family of all ages, as well as folding stools and small low stools, so you could sit wherever you wanted to cool off.

Everyone chatted about their daily life, shook cattail fans, talked about new things, and could also say hello to acquaintances passing by Hutang Road.

In the air, there are wisps of fragrance of flowers and plants floating from the front and back of the house, and lingering on the long lake and pond road.

There is a grocery store every other distance on Hutang Road, dealing with the business of farmers within a few miles.

On Hutang Road, you can often see children about my age, jumping up and down, walking to the shop in three steps and two steps, holding an empty bottle in their hands.

The children all like to help the family make soy sauce and sell rice wine. The change they get is their own walking money, which can be used to buy snacks, even on rainy days.

That little person, holding a big adult umbrella and wearing a pair of exaggerated rain boots, was walking on the lake and pond road. From a distance, he looked lonely and interesting.

"How much does it cost?" "It's 15 cents, and the remaining 50 cents are for purple sour cakes."

When the rain stopped, the little man held the soy sauce bottle, licked the purple sour cake, and ran back home along Hutang Road with satisfaction.

Walking on the Hutang Road, you can also meet people selling popsicles, selling pear paste candy, collecting lambskin and rabbit fur, and doing crafts... The popsicle sellers all ride heavy bicycles with a huge back seat.

The wooden box was wrapped tightly with cotton cloth.

From far away, you can hear people coming from the front or behind: "Do you want red bean popsicles?" The popsicle seller will stand under the shade of a tree beside a certain pond bridge, prop up the car, and use wooden blocks to knock out the words on the box.

The beat of the rhythm.

Before the sound was heard, a group of children kept popping up from the village, surrounding the popsicle box.

A few people who bought popsicles slowly squeezed out of the crowd, holding high the popsicles that had not yet peeled off their wrapping paper, and received envious looks.

Most of them had no money to buy, and they all blinked and swallowed their saliva and looked at others.

The relationship is strong, and you can even get a cold corner, or let him lick it a few times to satisfy his craving.

Occasionally, I can buy a popsicle to eat on the way.

I eat very slowly, but my pace has to be quick, so that I can still have half of the piece unfinished when I get to my grandma's house, so that my friends in the village will be envious for a while, and I will have a sense of superiority like a city dweller in the countryside.

The popsicles melt too quickly, so they must be eaten in time, and the remaining popsicle sticks must be bitten in the mouth, "biting and biting until they reach Grandma's Bridge."