Shexian county taikelong property number

Early summer, the day I bid farewell to Zhangzhou, or the last day I stayed in Zhangzhou, I woke up in the morning and the window was still the same as last night. Summer rain is falling, and bright spray hits the windowsill and balcony, and then splashes on the desk and my eyelashes. The living space that stayed for four years was instantly wet. The usual orderly life order was torn to pieces, combined and moved out alive, and the rest was scattered all over the floor. ...

In Huizhou, a manor with eight mountains, half water, half fields and one road, Zhangzhou is the largest county. As many people know, Zhou She, which is now Shexian County in southern Anhui, is the seat of the ancient Huizhou government and the birthplace of Huizhou culture and national quintessence Peking Opera. It is called Xuzhou because in my mind, Xuzhou may be closer to what I subconsciously hope, especially after staying in Xuzhou for a long time. Although what I subconsciously hope is fragmentary and incomplete.

The space I stayed in Zhangzhou is small and old. It should be in the early 1980s. One room, one living room, one kitchen and one bathroom, about 50 square meters. At that time, people's heart and lungs did not absorb too much smog and alcohol. The space is narrow but extremely strong, and the hard brick wall can't be chiseled in with cement nails. Unlike many walls now, the owner moved in today and will sew the needle tomorrow. I had to grope blindly for the gap between bricks, which made it more difficult for us to hang towels and coats on the rope.

Before I stayed in Zhangzhou, I was a stranger to Zhangzhou, although I had been there twice before. The first time I went to Santan, the hometown of loquat, I passed through the county seat and stopped at Lianjiang Bridge. The bridge is like a rainbow, spanning both banks, with clear water and long willows, open space and a good impression. The second time, I led Piyun Villa to attend an annual meeting of the Municipal Writers Association. I didn't go out. I went back after lunch.

It was not until I lived in Zhangzhou for several weekends that I knew the general orientation of the "Tian Ling Community" where I lived: the terrain should be the highest, on Doushan Mountain in the east of Zhangzhou, with the ancient Doushan Street in the south, the most lively Dabei Street in Zhangzhou outside Doushan Street, and then Huizhou House. Doushan Street is the hometown of Huizhou merchants. It is said that it is named after Doosan, which it relies on. Because the seven hills are connected, it looks like the Big Dipper, hence the name. To the east of the community is Wenshan Zheng. Although not high, the mountain is like a phoenix, just like a natural barrier guarding the east of the city. This is the only mountain around Zhangzhou that I knew before I was in Zhangzhou. I know Doushan Street, but I didn't know there was Doosan. I didn't know that Doushan Street got its name because it landed on the Doosan. This is common sense. I'm really a little retarded, at least I'm a brainless person. My front door is in the northwest. Turn left and right after going out, which is the south gate of Huizhou Teachers College, a century-old school. This is Fu Xue Street, and we have walked back and forth countless times. It is paved with long dark green slabs, primitive and antique, but steep and three meters wide. The intersection of two cars is a competition of driving skills, but most of the winners are Zhangzhou people. Zhangzhou people have excellent driving skills. They whizzed past you and wiped their clothes, but they never hurt their skin. They can also park near the ancient city wall of Huizhou Normal University from beginning to end, and the distance between the car and the wall will not exceed the thickness of a piece of clothing.

Compared with the modern home, the space I stay in is actually a humble abode, but it is still neat and warm after careful care. Beds, tables and chairs, simple wardrobes, bookcases, cupboards and other necessary furniture are all newly bought. The hard wall is still white. My daughter is easy to hang some old-fashioned paintings, such as painters like Van Gogh and poets like Gu Cheng. Of course, there are some simple but elegant ones that can jump out of the mountains and rivers at once. She also wrote poems on the wall with a brush, such as "I hope your city is warm/sunny/breezy/intoxicated/someone says that they love you/never leave", which is not enough. She also added color illustrations to the dim walls of the kitchen to enhance its bright colors and taste. Of course, this illustrated book of Van Gogh and Gu Cheng was published later. My grandmother, who accompanied me, told Yi that she had given the old man a red beard on the wall. I heard that he is still crazy, staying at home alone, afraid of death. When he painted Gu Cheng, he said, I like his poems, but he is dead after all. Later, she posted the embroidery style painting of Yunnan and the poster of Pu Shu, but she still posted the poem "To Attend the City" written by her and copied it on an exercise page. The last paragraph is "Now, I bought your pictorial/sunny day/your black eyes with five dollars, and connected them with all the walls/built an island".

Many things in life are unexpected. I didn't expect to know my destiny. I spent most of my weekends in this humble abode except winter and summer vacations. The four spring and autumn cycles here are really not short.

From Huangshan North where I live to Zhangzhou, it takes 25 minutes to drive 1 hour. At first, I leave on Friday night, then I go early on Saturday, and I always come back on Monday morning. Cars often cross Lianjiang Bridge and gallop under the ancient city wall. I gradually became familiar with this ancient Huizhou city from strangeness and confusion, but it is a bit difficult to be kind. Only when I see my humble abode and close the door can I be kind, just like a warm undercurrent, surging gently in my heart.

In the middle of my humble abode, there is a window facing south, but the window is a relatively closed residential corridor, and the light is not good, so I can't receive visitors (there are no guests to see), so I will build myself a bed under the window as a half bedroom. Leaning on the bed, I thought about it many times. I have lived here again and again. What is it or what is it called? Finally, the word "stay" was suppressed. Then I thought, it's not surprising to stay like me. Although the reasons are different, the purpose is different, but the rental time is not long, that is, check in; In order to stay, no matter how long, I have to leave eventually. During the Tang and Song Dynasties, Li Bai, Bai Juyi, Su Shi and others all lived in the suburbs or in different places for different periods of time. During the floating years of the Republic of China, it was the choice of many literati to stay or stay. Lu Xun and his mother lived at No.61Zhuanta Hutong, Xicheng, Beijing, and then lived somewhere in Shanghai with Xu Guangping for many years. Bing Xin's family stayed in Scissors Lane, Tiesi Hutong, Dongcheng, Beijing for 16 years. Xu Zhimo, who teaches in three universities at the same time and earns a monthly salary in 600 yuan, once stayed with Lu Xiaoman somewhere in Shanghai for a long time and so on. It is normal for me to wait for people to stay in one place. In Zhangzhou, a big cultural and educational county, there are quite a few people who stay here like me.

Food is the most important thing for the people, and food is particularly important in Zhangzhou. The first thing on the weekend is to buy food nearby. I often go to Taiwan Province Clone Supermarket. I don't know how to call it "Taiwan Province Clone" and I don't care. I am almost familiar with the layout and varieties of this not-so-small supermarket. If you simply buy, go to a small stall under Fu Xue Street. The vegetable seller is a small and exquisite middle-aged woman with a delicate face, quick hands and feet, and quick accounts. She won't miss half of you because you have no change, but she will never allow you to miss her a dime because you have no change. Later, I found that buying food in Zhangzhou was like this. If I have enough time, I will go to the big food market in Zhangzhou. The big food market is full of people and there is a lot of space. In a trance, I also became a native of Zhangzhou. Seeing Huizhou ham, bacon, mandarin fish and other wild vegetables that I often picked when I was a child, my feet seemed to be nailed and I often couldn't walk. I still have the blood of ancient Huizhou in half my veins.

Buying food is not just running errands, especially in a foreign land, especially on sunny days, especially for people like me who live in an office building all day and are often silenced by the hot and cold atmosphere. It is a rare leisure, relaxation and release, so I often get lost, so I often get a phone call from my wife from my humble abode. Did you go to Beijing or Shanghai to buy food? Art, if not traveling with me, will also make a phone call, so effective. Fortunately, most of them are with me, inseparable. On a gloomy or cold day, there is really a breeze and warm sunshine around them.

Buying food and going back to my humble abode means taking care of lunch and dinner. I put my heart into this chef's work, not to "show off my skills" or to make up a few things. I have been a cook for twenty or thirty years, and I tried it when I was working in my hometown in my early years. That time, after we came back from fighting the mountain fire, I cooked a big hot pot with a big iron pot-pork and soy bean curd. I ate so much that everyone talked about it when they met, saying that now I have eaten thousands of shops, but I just can't eat the smell of tofu made in the past. In fact, there is really no technical element in burning that pot. At best, it's cooked and tasted. I found that there are quite a few cooks in the literary and art circles. In ancient times, there were Wang Zengqi, Jia Pingwa and Plantaginis. And Shu Qiao, a female writer who wrote Diary of a Mature Woman. It is said that Hu Zhufeng in Anhui Province is also one of them. But there are also people who can't even cook noodles and rice, which is very different. I have lived in this circle for many years. I believe what the writer once said: how can a writer, or just a person who likes dancing and writing, not cook a few dishes? Over the years, I have been dissatisfied with my writing, but my satisfaction with my cooking is far higher than my pedantic writing. The number and variety of dishes I cook are not many, but I pay attention to the combination of meat and vegetables, spicy and light, and the sauce is blue. I try not to repeat the dishes of Chinese food and dinner. Today and tomorrow's dishes are different. In my humble abode, there are three or four of us, mostly three dishes or four dishes and one soup. We use a small folding round table, which is usually placed against the wall and moved to the front of the big bed when eating. Art's 18 birthday is on this small round table. That night was Tuesday, and there were bacon, osmanthus fish, coke and mud on the table. Half of my time in Zhangzhou was spent like this.

The inner room of the dwelling house faces south, which is the largest and has the best lighting. It's a real first room, with a big window on the left, a door on the right and a balcony outside. This master room is not only the master bedroom, but also the living room, dining room and study. There is a small table under the window. Outside the window is the blue sky and white clouds in Zhangzhou, with wind, frost, rain and snow. Inside and outside this window, an independent space and world are formed in the rainy season. Her messy drawers, especially those soft and tired books that are in great contrast with her own image and words, are no longer for me to read, but I know that apart from her studies, her slightly green thoughts and feelings are released here, and half of her poems "Blue" are formed under this window. There are butterflies in the window. I know she needed such a window a long time ago. Before Zhangzhou's future, she said to herself that she needed a light blue window with a dream. Far out of the window, flowers bloom like fire. "After arriving in Zhangzhou, it was this window that filled many gaps in her growing years. This is exactly why we finally chose to stay in Zhangzhou after breaking the routine and weighing it repeatedly. Half a month ago, when I was leafing through a book, I accidentally turned to a diary with a cover. There is a passage on it: my good time was in the last two years of the ancient city, clear and shallow. I am wearing a flowered skirt, self-disciplined, vegetarian and copying classics, and my heart is very weak. Write poems at dusk and watch fireworks on the balcony at night. ...

In addition to buying food and going shopping, I just take a walk with a big North Street. It's only over a mile from my humble abode to Dabei Street, just opposite Doushan Street. I know the word "Doushan Street" on the lintel of bluestone, but it is different from that of foreign tourists. As soon as they looked up, they blurted out "Fighting Street", or they said it word for word: Fighting Street. The woman who opened the shop next to her smiled, and so did we. But it is not surprising that the mountain character of official script can certainly become "fierce". Besides, although the ancient walls in Doushan Street are still high, Gu Xiang is faint, and the courtyard is deep, it has long been calm, with emblem lights hanging high, and the terrible secret toad well in a certain period in the late Qing Dynasty and the early Republic of China is clean and clear, and the whole street has long since lost its ghosts and fierce fighting.

Dabei Street is the most crowded commercial street in Zhangzhou, especially on weekends. Although she is easy to wear short-sighted glasses, her eyes on all kinds of clothes and shoes are still so penetrating, sharp and special. Of course, the last place we want to go is Yanghe Bookstore, which is located on the north side of Guo Xushi Square at the entrance to the ancient city. Every time I go, my stay will not be too short. ...

Besides buying food and books, I will stay at home. The time for yourself is reading. On rainy days, I sit on a rattan chair and read a book, or move a small wooden chair and sit by the door with a balcony and good lighting. This is my most peaceful, serene and beautiful time in Zhangzhou. I set my mobile phone to vibrate or mute, and no one answered the phone in the north of Huangshan Mountain. On rainy days, I sit on the cane chair in front of my desk and watch, whether it is continuous autumn rain or spring rain, or dribs and drabs, it is a clear spring and a song falling from the sky, from the ground, from the heart, pouring in through the window, moistening and soothing the wrinkles and scars left by the years. There is no room for memories of this kind of scar, only Zhangzhou. At this time, you can safely open, crack, bleed, pink, bright red or purple, but it is far less painful, a little bit, nothing, because it is an aromatic Chinese medicine that can stop bleeding and heal. When the weather is fine, the sunshine in Zhangzhou shines obliquely from Wenshan Zheng, and the balcony where I live, an old balcony with only two square meters, suddenly becomes bright. At this time, I will turn from the indoor to the balcony, not only reading a book, but also reading some bacon, sausages, preserved chicken legs and flower pots bought from the vegetable market. Somehow, these flowers have been kept for a long time no matter how they are treated. Maybe they all have a hunch.

Many literati in history have the psychology of "avoiding the world". I'm kind of a scholar. It is better to stay in Zhangzhou than to hide in Zhangzhou. I said before that I could write a few words quietly in Zhangzhou. It seems that hiding is just invisible for a while. Hide, the heart can't be completely still. The movement and quietness of the heart, the urgency and slowness, the worry and joy are all inevitable in the end, and we must rely on self-adjustment. The so-called self-prejudice in peace of mind or natural indifference in peace of mind is this truth. But as a silent person who likes to be alone, in this society where there is nowhere to escape, it is a lucky thing to have a shelter from the wind and rain in addition to the place to live. Of course, my escape is not because of the economic hardship in Juansheng's "Regret for the Past", but because of the confusion and helplessness of society, family and emotion. Juansheng and Zijun stayed in Beijing Jixiang Hutong for a beautiful love, and finally Zijun left. Juansheng left a note "only for love, blind love, completely ignoring the essence of life". For me, it is more about seeking a piece of pure land and putting my increasingly tired soul. A moment of joy, a moment of silence, a secluded place is enough.

I sleep soundly every weekend and Saturday night. When I wake up in the morning, I can see the old balcony outside through the Chinese and foreign doors at a glance. The balcony is bright, no matter whether the flowers on the balcony are in full bloom or withered, they are bright, which is the fresh and pollution-free light in the morning. At that moment, my heart was thorough, which is rare in a week. On Sunday night, I can't sleep well, especially in the cold winter night, especially in the middle of the night. I have a special attachment to the bed under me and the new wooden bed in the window above me. I hope the window above me will always be dark, because "I will start at dawn". Many times, I will leave before dawn. Therefore, my desire to stay in this darkness for a while is urgent. For the first time, I found that at some point in my life, darkness is quiet, warm, especially beautiful and precious.

I hardly have any dreams in Zhangzhou. But on the last night when I stayed in or bid farewell to Zhangzhou, I had a dream: in Zhangzhou where I stayed or bid farewell, there was a golden flag floating in Huizhou, and a capital "Song" fluttered in the wind. Then, on the ancient city wall, on Dabei Street, on Doushan Street, on the "Three Ancient Bridges",

When I woke up, it was dusk, and it was raining outside the window.