The last time I went to Wuzhen, I felt okay, but this time I came to Xitang, I heard that there is a kind of charm of a lilac girl.

The morning is quiet and serene, after a night of rain baptism, although the morning sun does not show a smile, but you can still feel the freshness of the air, the abundant rain makes this ancient water town more agile.

Walking further down the path into the alleys of the locals, the ancient town has begun to wake up. In the rain-soaked alleys, families will move their cooking stoves to the alleys, and in an instant, the fireworks will disperse here.

Came to a small shop and sat down, ordered a bowl of small chaos in the south to become today's breakfast, the plum wine that was drunk on the dinner table last night is available in every store here, it seems to be the soul of the southern town, the so-called wine tour of the world.

The noisy and crowded Xitang really shows its original appearance, and the quiet atmosphere of the early morning seems to be suddenly broken by the noise of the outside world. The bustling crowd seemed to pour into this small ancient town all at once, and the narrow lanes were immediately congested.

The sky was instantly suppressed by dark clouds, and the raindrops began to drip again, and the black canopy boat was paddling slowly in the river, and the billboard next to it said that this was the filming location of Mission Impossible 3. It seems that I want to raise the scenery here to a higher level, but the beauty of the ancient town is placed here, and there is no need to deliberately depict it.

The graffiti sent to Fengqiao, the crowd resting on both sides, and the noisy sounds all constitute the unique characteristics of Xitang, but this feature is not necessarily the original appearance of thousands of years. Johnson didn't even dare to imagine that in ancient times, such a human residence would be invaded by tens of millions of people, and the bloated water may not be what this ancient town yearns for.

The boat passed by a bluestone slab bridge, and the two tourists were shooting downwards while I was shooting upwards, which was not a break in Bian Zhilin's chapter.

You stand on the bridge and look at the view, and the people watching the view are watching you from upstairs.

The moon adorns your windows,

You decorate other people's dreams.

The long stone pavement, the small buildings on both sides, the clatter of wooden doors, and the sound of the river flowing. Although you can't see too many local people's true life, along the way, the ticking on the bluestone pavement, and the occasional noise of tourists one or two times, do not prevent you from experiencing the quiet charm of the original ancient town.

Occasionally, a woman would wash laundry by the river in front of the door, and that peace was something that I could not bear to break as an outsider. Birds chirping in the air, occasional greetings from neighbors, the river flows quietly, and the reflection of houses on the water is about to resemble an ancient ink painting.

Someone you've passed by, an unspeakable dream. One dragged an obsession and stayed in this silent world. The longing from the north is swaying in a small town belonging to the south, looking for a result, a sustenance that seems to be a lifetime away.

Walking alone is a chaotic struggle, a sigh without a full stop, an endless dust twilight, and a hesitation of broken thoughts along the way.

There is a silence in the early morning and the twilight. So I set off in my mood to find the soft light of the sunrise and sunset. Time has been squandered on the stone road, but the hundreds of houses that meander along the river for about 400 meters are back and forth, and those sorrows and joys are derived.

With the passage of time moment by moment, the feet on the stone road to tap the rhythm, only to realize that the horse's head wall is high and low, but also gave birth to a different kind of interest, the white wall in the shade of the ancient trees, like a beautiful woman dare not reveal the voice of the heart that has been hidden for a long time.

The houses built along the river are not a copy of one by one, some buildings are built to make full use of the space, and some buildings are connected to the eaves, so that you can take a step and have an inch of scenery, and there is a little joy in your heart.

It can be used to shelter from the rain in the rainy season and shade the sun in summer. And the volcanic wall of the hundred buildings, there are three-fold horse-head walls, there are also pipa-type gables, and there are coupon doors between each building, and the stone revetment along the river is neat.

Time flows, the river is built and the fireworks in this world are drunk, the grandmother wearing slippers is washing clothes on the stone port, the grandfather wearing a hat is fishing quietly on the stone road, hearing the greeting of the proprietress at the door of the store, and seeing the eyes of the grandmother looking out through the wooden window lattice.

The sorrow and joy of this world suddenly became less important under their rendering, and the desires in their hearts were simply thrown away.

When you stop, the fragments of life left behind by those moments can make you emotional. Some of the doors of the houses were closed, some were hidden, and some were open without scruples, and they did not dare to look inside for a moment, for fear of snooping on the secrets of the family.

Sitting on a wooden bench by the river, looking at the people on the other side and the tourists walking by from time to time. I wondered, if I was born here and lived here, would I be like them, I could open the door and let strangers passing by explore the clues in my life.

Just thinking about it, this is just their life, and we outsiders are abrupt.

But wear slippers, or wash clothes by the river, or sit on Mazha to fish quietly, or clean up the quilt to dry. And we who wear bells and whistles and take photos everywhere are embarrassed.

Suddenly, there was a little sadness, I have lived in the city for a long time, and the house made of steel and concrete is not a closed door one day, and even the old man next door is indifferently walked by.

I don't know if you have ever walked through her alley, in the afternoon when the smell of food wafts away, there are still traces of the hostess splashing water in the middle of the road. I don't know if you are at the end of the sunset, and you see strange men and women standing on the bridge, stopping for a moment but it is so beautiful that it makes people a little sad.

The graceful sound of silk and bamboo rises melodiously, the rowing boat passes under the stone bridge, rippling on the riverside, accompanied by a song "Jiangnan Silk and Bamboo", and the long street banquet begins every autumn. The guests on the riverbank entered the venue one after another, and it was a bustling scene.

The table is set on the stone road in front of the square, with a length of nearly 100 meters, and everyone hugs and sits together, forming a 100-meter-long table and a grand reunion of 100 people eating together.

The water network here is intertwined, rich in fresh fish, eat fish head in spring and tail in summer, eat back and belly in autumn and winter belly, and eat fish all year round. Tasting dishes, talking and laughing, looking across the shore, a group of Jiangnan women wearing cheongsams swaying gracefully, let people see the demeanor of Jiangnan;

Ye Mei Handai, slender jade hands,

A branch of laurel is dedicated to everyone, a classical dance of fish playing in the water, cheerful and rhythmic;

Thin lead powder, Yingying hung Qiluo, and the fairy Chang'e came slowly, taking the jade rabbits on a boat cruise......

Towards the end of the feast, Fairy Chang'e and her jade rabbits handed out river lanterns to the visitors. As the sky gets dark, tourists walk to the riverside, light up the lanterns, and place them on the river, which is suddenly star-studded.

The river lanterns swayed gently with the evening breeze, slowly rippling to the middle of the river, full of people's good wishes for life, drifting away......