Wudian slope reminiscence treasure jun

Standing at the intersection of Wudianpo, looking up to the south, the late autumn sun is warmly shining, the grass on Wudian slope is green, it is the Wudianpo New Village waiting for construction after demolition, the buildings in the distance rise from the ground, looking at this neatly planned street, a gust of wind blows over, a few fallen leaves, oh - autumn.

I suddenly remembered Wang Baojun.

The scenery changes in front of you. On the wasteland, Wang Baojun carried a basket and searched hard for everything that could be wrapped in his belly. ——After years of famine, the four fields are barren, and she runs farther and farther away as she digs wild vegetables...

The cold wind blew on her cheeks, since when, the traces of time had been printed on her forehead, the hair wrapped in a coarse cloth towel was no longer black and shiny due to long-term malnutrition, and the thousand gold of my xiangfu was polished by the years to be thin but tough, and her eyes were still clear.

That eternal love...

I was suddenly a little confused, love - what is it?

What exactly is love? This topic is still confusing to me today. When I was twenty years old, I met love, that is, for a moment, when the boy in the red sweatshirt ran forward against the morning light, the morning wind blowing on the ends of his hair, and the morning sun shining on him, as if shrouded in a red glow. At that moment, my heart suddenly stagnated. I didn't know who he was at the time, and I just passed by like that, and maybe I passed by and disappeared into the vast sea of people. Unfortunately, many encounters in fate were unexpected.

A few years later, the "morning boy" appeared in front of me again - he was a friend of mine as a calligraphy and painting teacher! At a glance, the shadow of that morning with the morning light suddenly came back to life, and the feeling that could not be said, my heart suddenly beat wildly, fortunately, this heartbeat is not only me.

I don't know what attracted me to him, and since that morning he had been unable to control himself and came to me every dusk. So we fell deeply into it —this is the story of spring.

I don't know what he thought at the time, but from that encounter he couldn't let go, fell helplessly, when he took my hand in the moonlight; when I felt his heart trembling with excitement; when he took my hand as he strolled through the grove at dusk, watching the poplars fluttering in the wind; and when we held his clothes and ran in the sudden rain, I almost thought I had met love.

I almost thought, yes, that would be a story with no ending after all.

Many years later, I often asked myself, what exactly did he impress me? I couldn't answer myself. But every time I remember, I am still fascinated, and I am sad because of my fascination. I still have the red shadow running in the morning light in my heart, and how many nights I still have sorrows that I can't dispel when it rains. I don't ask myself once and for all, if fate could do it all over again, would I choose my original self? The love that is beautified by time by memory...

- Yes, life is never a perfect existence, and we are not regretless selves, when the past becomes the past, the scenery on the road changes. Looking back at what we can't forget most is the squandered youth, who in life is not lonely and lonely left?

In the long days that followed, there was a touch of pyrotechnic warmth in my life, but there was no more—the kind of heartbeat that belonged to that moonlit night.

That's love!

I think that Wang Baojun did not hesitate to fight with his parents and the whole world, and what he insisted on for eighteen years was not this encounter, this love born of the encounter!

Author: Li Jiemei

Editor: Tian Jiaqi

Review: Zhang Leli