That year, I walked through your city

Jiangxi

The spring of that year came late. You said the ancient phoenix poem was simple and quiet. I stepped into this tiny space of talented people. Through the courtyard of the Chen Baozhen family, but also in Mr. Shen Congwen's old house stood for a long time. Covered with the fragrant fragrance of books, but no one can comment together. The stilted buildings along the Tuojiang River are very noisy and noisy. I want to sit on them like you, singing wine and listening to the flowing Tuojiang River, which is ancient, mysterious, and long.

You said Tuojiang water is very clear, so I scooped up a handful of dripping lip hearts; You said the town painters were strange, so I had them paint white canvas shoes. They said to draw me a figure, I smiled, but the face can no longer be as easy and easy as the sun.

Take a deep breath, finally, in a mailbox, send a letter, do not know when to the strange distance, do not know how you receive it. Everything goes with the wind.

Qingdao

Lost in the sea shell with a thin warm, but your footsteps in a hurry have left. That year I stepped on the white beach, breathing the slightly fishy wind. Everything by the sea is just like you said, moist and refreshing. Let the soles of the feet in the sand write the mood, those words will be a moment of spray blown no trace.

Between you and me, bickering and cold war are meaningless because of the distance of space. Open your arms to the wind. I've learned to let go. You have often mentioned Haizi's poems, at that time I laughed and did not care. In the days that followed, his poems became clearer and clearer in my mind.

Facing the sea, you can see the spring blossoms. Just, between us, the sea and the sky are like a boundary, more and more distinct.

Suzhou

That year, I finally came to the dream of Jiangnan. Stepping SLATE road, see eaves those raindrops inadvertently meet. Leaning against the lattice window, I seem to see your wandering footsteps have not gone far. You once said that the most thought of Jiangnan seclusion, wine, and song should be how comfortable.

One thousand years but condensed into a poignant and touching story, and one thousand years of rain and how many times unexpected encounters.

Light contact with you, light ask their good. Unspeakable words and nothing makes sense. You walk through the Jiangnan, occasionally have the wind, and will ring a string of wind chimes. That deep and long lane in the rain, I follow your footprints, see the white walls over time traces. Rain is falling, like a dream, I would rather be immersed in a dream at the moment, do not want to wake up. At the moment, you in the south of the natural and unrestrained and lively temperament I can not see, only smelling full of cloves, knot the same melancholy.

Huizhou

That year, I accidentally heard that you had moved south. Ink painting Huizhou, I hide and live. Step into the ancient Ming and Qing villages, and all the weight of the earth is thrown at the end of the way. Lotus pond sunset, wild ducks happy play, silent. The high walls split the sky into tiny pieces. Touch the stone, as if to hear a sigh. The letter you sent is full of apologies, I have long ago no longer cared about life these trivial and helpless.

The narrow skylight was dim and without light. I looked into the distance alone like an ancient Huizhou woman, understanding the sad expectation contained in the lonely waiting. But I, in the face of the silent moon, thinking of meeting you again is like the month in this water. Teardrop stationery, blooming like a flower. Let nature take its course, no longer contention.

I thought I came to visit Huizhou where you live, but when I left, I found that it had become a distant dream of mine.

Beijing

That year I finally went north. It was a cold, frosty month. The first time so close but just not cold not light greetings. I want to see the red walls, blue walls, bronze doors, and stone lions. I want to sit in a hutong courtyard, lying on a rocking chair, listening to the songs of Beijing. I always remember you said that autumn in Beijing is the most beautiful, maybe I come at the wrong time, always miss it. Miss this deciduous gorgeous capital, missed a lot of many. The Summer Palace in front of the ancient rhyme, white snow at this time living pavilions and pavilions glass black tiles

Sitting in the old and bare yard, I looked at the clear, dry, and cold day after snow washing for the first time, and accepted the harsh and cold winter in the north with an enjoyable attitude for the first time. For the first time know the leisure court walk, the echo of the ancient building palace floating to the bell chime, playing with the string of rosary beads you sent. Read and do not read between, is a moment look Enron began to miss, miss some lost things. Time goes very slowly, I would like to red lantern under the door will be when you knock and open it.

Chengdu

That year, I settled in the capital of ancient Shu. Look at the sky look at the clouds, look at the free and comfortable sunshine spread over everyone's face. Breathing the warm air from western Sichuan, everything is empty he indifferent. Unexpectedly received your return message, you said you will also be here. I don't know what the story is going to be. Just think of the return, the original everything around the circle, finally returned to the starting point.

I heard that each encounter is a reunion after a long separation. Heard, never forget the echo. Let's hope it's true this time.