Even if there are 20 million people in Beijing pretending to live, there are still 20 million people who want to live in Beijing.
Young people all over China are eager to eat chaff in small rental houses in the north, Shanghai and Guangzhou, while dreaming and imagining that they will one day be able to flourish in this city.
However, in all directions of the land of China, in the frontier, in the north of the desert, in the small mountain villages in the west of Henan, in the small fishing villages along the coast of southern Fujian, and on the edge of the paddy fields that run through the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River, there are villages, houses, and villages where these people have grown up for generations.
In the soul of the mountains and rivers, there are native roots.
The fate of some has been uprooted and drifted down the torrent of the times.
The good and clumsy Chinese can always invent such a desolate word as leaving home.
Parents who are far away from home may feel that their children are wandering alone and living in misery.
Not really.
Do you call on friends to eat and drink all night and cry out in pain after work?
Don't be funny.
What they are bitter about is that they can't afford to buy that millions of houses in the light of thousands of houses.
In fact, the rental house is not much worse, the wind can't blow and the rain can't fall, there is water and electricity, there is food and drink, there is a refrigerator and air conditioning.
But that's leaving home.
Our hometown is just a little lower, a little less cars, a little lower prices, and a smaller city.
With a salary of two or three thousand, you can also live well, everything is familiar and pleasant.
There is its own house there. Whether you bought it yourself or your parents.
So why don't we go back to our house?
I don't want to get married, I don't want to live a life that I can see at a glance, I don't want to be tied down, I don't want to...
We're going to go through the sea.
We're going to qianfan.
We are going to the sea of stars.
Actually, neither.
Just because, we can't go back.
Either the place where we were born and raised has changed its appearance, or it is ourselves, which has changed its appearance.
The human heart is like Pandora's box, once opened, no one knows what will fly out of it.
It could be fireworks that fill the sky with plague and disaster.
We labeled our hometown as old, small, mixed and dead, and had no future, and left him with scorn, and then looked at him in the twenty-something office building and missed him.
The Amish people have been able to adhere to their beliefs and traditions for hundreds of years and live an idyllic life in the high-tech era. But after all, that's a very small minority.
We don't go back to our house because of us, and we can't go back.