"Fengguang Infinite Zhangjiajie" Wulingyuan Literary PEN Association Works No. 15: I see qingshan as it was

The train arrived in Zhangjiajie West, then changed to a taxi to Wulingyuan, the car galloped on the road, the near mountain flashed on the side of the car, and the distant mountain Chu Chu stood, smiling in the twilight. Oh, this is Wulingyuan, my eyes instantly opened the search mode, but only to see a beautiful small building dotted between the green mountains, no different from the rich land in Xiangzhong.

Old Xiao, a classmate who came with him, was still talking, saying that he had been to Wulingyuan several times, and then it was not interesting to see the landscapes of other places.

Old Xiao is a new person, talking about the beauty of Wulingyuan, his face has a color, as if the landscape here is unique, and it is absolutely incomparable elsewhere. I glanced at him secretly, confused. But when it comes to comparing the scenery of Wulingyuan to other places, I have no say. I have seen a lot of mountains elsewhere, but this is the first time I have returned to Wulingyuan, and the car has not stopped. So I took Lao Xiao's words, divergent memories and thought about some famous mountains and rivers I had been to, and then thought about the shots in "Avatar", and thought about the wonder of Tianmen Cave, I couldn't help but think that Old Xiao said it well. Those mountains I had seen before, compared with Wulingyuan, were indeed not a level of beauty.

Although I have never been to Wulingyuan, I know that it is earlier than many foreigners.

My father worked in the Survey and Design Institute, and for many years when I was an infant, he may have been running back and forth in the magical land of Daxiangxi, so the place names that I poured the most into my ears were the names of Dayong, Cili, Sangzhi and so on. These place names are particularly distant for us in childhood, and it is still a story that can bring the place names closer to life.

In the 1970s, the Wulingyuan area was not yet a tourist area, and although the landscape was beautiful, it was hidden in the mountains and unknown to people. Inconvenient transportation, unbalanced resources, mountain people's life is very single, and my father has always been chivalrous, his car has become the most envied thing for mountain people, so he will occasionally provide some convenience for mountain people, hitchhiking is the norm, pulling goods can be discussed, all depending on whether the time and place are convenient or not. In his father's story, there is not much to say about the landscape of Dayong, but the most talked about is the friendship between people. When my father helped the mountain people more often, he was occasionally invited to drink, and whenever his father wanted to return to Changsha, the villagers would send some local products, and once they just caught a giant fish and gave it to their father. The fish was cut and washed, hung outside the car and blown all the way to Changsha, just turning into a dried fish more than a meter long. Once, the mountain people picked up a wounded monkey and gave it to my father when he saw that he liked small animals. The little monkey was extremely stubborn and clever, sitting in the co-pilot and secretly learning a few movements, and when my father stopped to eat, he released the hand brake... The car slid down the gentle slope, but fortunately my father moved faster than the monkey and returned to the car in three steps and two steps. In addition, my father also raised an eagle, saying that the eagle would fly with the car... I have no memory of that situation, but there was also another autumn, the mountain people enthusiastically put the chestnuts that could not be transported out of the mountain to my father and pulled them back to Changsha in half a car, afraid that more than a few hundred pounds, so my mother beckoned the colleagues of the school to share together, each family took the bucket and the basin to load, and the rest was piled up under my small bed like a hill. Now that I think about it, isn't that half a cart of powdery chestnuts just like the simple and true feelings of the mountain people?

My mother also came to Wulingyuan with her father during the summer vacation. My father's driving skills are good, high, bold, and a little fierce, but this road is high, narrow, curved, steep, and the mountain road is too dangerous... In some sections, when the driver's seat is against the mountain wall, but outside the sub-seat is a cliff, the mother is scared to fly out of the sky at a glance, so she prefers to get off the car and walk, the father is helpless, can only drive the car through the dangerous section, waiting in front.

When my mother came to Wulingyuan in the early nineties, the wulingyuan landscape was absolutely beautiful, but the mountains were far away, and everything depended on walking to see the scenery. That year, the school organized a trip for teachers and staff in Wulingyuan for a week, and after her mother returned home, she looked miserable, her calves and stomach cramped, and she needed to soak her feet and massage her feet with hot water every day. But my mother took a picture that made us laugh for years. In the photo, the mother is dressed in white clothes and skirts, carrying a military water bottle cross-body, riding on a tall horse... The unchanged side photo of the round-faced mother for thousands of years, coupled with the military kettle looking like a carrying gun holster, is really a majestic, living and free bandit image. My mother didn't like to tell stories, and only left us with fragments of "tired legs cramping" in our memories. But the temptation given to me by the mountains and rivers of Wulingyuan came from the text. In the text, the Golden Whip Creek, Baofeng Lake, and Huangshi Village are so magical and magnificent that when you recite those passages, you will feel that there are pearls and jade beating in your mouth, and then atomize, dive into the depths of your mind, and become a brick of your heart that builds a city of memories.

Wulingyuan's scenic spots are very large, there are many scenic spots, the landscape is too beautiful, it takes a long time to play thoroughly, but it is not easy to get together just the right time, so I often think of what a regret I have not been to Wulingyuan. Moreover, after years of improvement, the world-class geological museum of Wulingyuan has added countless new highlights, in addition to the long-opened ropeway, now you only need to take the Calf train to visit the Ten Mile Gallery all the way, and the glass trestle is the yearning of countless people. In the Internet era, the beauty of Wulingyuan is infinitely excavated and disseminated, ubiquitous beautiful pictures, travel strategies, often scratching the heart like cat's claws, Tianzi Mountain, Suoxiyu is not unhappy, I am also watching, waiting, like holding a piece of candy in the palm of my hand, waiting for an opportunity to open.

With the construction of the airport, Wulingyuan has facilitated tourists from all over the world to come from thousands of miles. The highway opened, and travelers from all over the country flocked to it. Now that the high-speed rail has also been opened, Wulingyuan has become the back garden of Changsha, which only takes a meal to arrive. And I, too, will eventually realize my dream of Wulingyuan.

Look, this picturesque thing in front of you is Wulingyuan, here are the mountains that my father has climbed, there are the roads that my mother has trekked, there are the views I looked at when I was a teenager, there are the beautiful and intoxicating landscapes in TV movies, there are poems written by Lao Xiao, and there is the sweat spilled by Wulingyuan's classmate Deng Laomo who has worked diligently and diligently for many years...

Wulingyuan, although I am still a newcomer, this is already the rush of my thousand thoughts.

Tonight, I will sleep with the clear water of the qingshan qingshui of Wulingyuan.

(Mei Fei'er, a native of Changsha City, a member of the Hunan Provincial Writers Association, a student of the Ninth Writers Class of Mao Zedong Literature Institute)