Every time I walk in the deep alleys of my hometown, I suddenly have a state of mind that is difficult to tell. In the evening breeze blowing in the alley, I often silently recall the past years alone.

Every time I walk in the deep alleys of my hometown, I suddenly have a state of mind that is difficult to tell. In the evening breeze blowing in the alley, I often silently recall the past years alone. Flowing memories, indescribable thoughts. The past is unforgettable, still warm and haunting, and has been engraved into a scene in the depths of the soul.

In the shadow of my childhood, my mother held my young little hand, stepped on the long stone road of the alley, and walked to the depths of the alley, leaving a string of large and small footprints... It is the most beautiful scenery in life, so beautiful, so beautiful, always so happy and sweet!

Now, whenever I open the window of the small household, I always look at the alley quietly out of my mind, sadly counting how many springs the alley has passed, how many snows have drifted, how many times it has rained, how many flowers have bloomed, and how many lilac leaves have fallen...

How nice it would be to be able to walk slowly and slowly on the bluestone slabs of the alley in every morning full of pearls, and the dusk full of flying clouds, as I did in my childhood, with those warm hands! How the wind dissociated people, a clear word half cool.