In the mountains, peach trees, under the eaves of Wang Yingying in early summer, Liu Shisan finished eating a handful of melon seeds and said to his grandmother: "I feel that someone is thinking about us." Grandma said, "What's the use of thinking, if you don't give money, you're a bastard." "The town is full of bellflowers, and dandelions fly higher than pomegranate trees, all the way into the sea of rice at the foot of the mountain.

In most people's minds, their hometown will later become a point, like an island that has never changed.

Grandma said, what is called hometown, ancestors have been buried here for generations, so it is called hometown. A small mountain town that seems to grow out of the ground.

Since leaving his hometown for the college entrance examination, Liu Shisan has not returned except for the Chinese New Year. My grandmother's full name is Wang Yingying, and she has opened a small store at the door of her yard for decades.

She was wearing floral short sleeves, her white hair was tied up in a bun, her arms were hidden in sleeves, and she was busy non-stop.

"The Whispering of the Second Fat Afternoon" everyone's hope and sorrow, and a ray of light on the road that has never been cut off is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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