Although the old street is getting old, it still stands in the middle of the city.

The old street, like a river exuding the vicissitudes of life, has been flowing in the memory of the people of the old city.

Time, it seems, slows down here. Although the old street has looked old, what is revealed is still that calmness, that indifference, and that kind of peace.

Nowadays, people are obviously unable to experience too many old things on the old street, so they can only carry the heavy bags of the years and immerse themselves in the old feelings that exude the smell of camphor. I try to keep my memories on the surface of a piece of history, turning them into a fleeting thought.

Stepping into the old street from the hustle and bustle of Xinjiekou, some noisy sounds gradually came out. The asphalt road that patches are patched, and the bluestone slabs on both sides are faintly moss-colored, because people have been touching for a long time, and the quaint stone surface has more vicissitudes and more luster. Rows of square framed doors meander along the street, interspersed with buildings of sudden gaos from time to time, and the uneven heights seem a little chaotic.

Looking at the familiar old street, how kind it was when I was a child, I still remember the incense candles and paper horses on the stall, and I still remember the special pastries on the stall, because of my grandfather's love for antiques, I don't know how many times I fell asleep in the antique shop in this old street when I was a child.

Today I walk through this old street, feeling the passage of time, I don't know how long this only place that records the innocence of my childhood will remain, and I am really afraid that one day, even this place of walking will be overwhelmed by this modern city.

In addition to Lao Cai, the most representative of the city is estimated to be the legendary Eight Hutongs, walking into this alley, it is crowded with tourists from all over the world, but they are different from me, I feel the day, they feel the history of this country. In the cramped alleys, the sunlight poured down without hesitation, stretching the figure of the person for a short time. The unconcealable pink walls and tiles have left a mottled and gray background in the vicissitudes of life. Walking through the familiar old streets and alleys, the voices of street vendors seem to be heard in your ears, and the endless crowd seems to be a memory of yesterday. At both ends of the alley, there is a noisy and bustling world, but inside the alley is dark and silent. Walking through the alleys, from ancient times to the future, is the soul that is endless.

The old street is really some years old, just like an old man basking in the winter sun under the corner of the eaves, squinting his eyes and holding his hands, looking calm and desolate.

A little up, you know the ancient vicissitudes of life of the old street, its history, has long surpassed the Qin, Han and Tang and Song dynasties. In the 800 years between the Sui and Tang dynasties and the Yuan dynasty, the name of the city changed several times. By the time of the Ming Dynasty, it had today's name, but it was re-expanded on the basis of the original city. Its appearance has been maintained to this day.

However, with the passage of time and the vicissitudes of life, it is difficult for anyone to tell the history of a city clearly. Because, there have been too many stories during this period, and these stories have been scattered in the past years.

The aging of a street is like a person's withered face, and the flow of time will always leave some indelible marks. Sometimes we have to sigh that the years are really an all-powerful master, patiently and persistently polishing everything, regardless of whether we like it or not.

It has been many years since I left the old street, and the old street was full of people, and there were a variety of goods displayed on the shops, showing a lively and prosperous scene. The deepest impression is the roast chicken stall at the entrance of the City God's Temple, a two-cent coin can make people hold a chicken paw and feast, the fresh, salty and fragrant taste still stays on the tip of the tongue, making people linger for a long time.

Today, Lao Cai still has not withdrawn from its former prosperity. It's just that this kind of superficial prosperity, like the mottled and outdated enamel lampshades on the cement poles on both sides of the street, can no longer hide its true face of decay.

Walking in the old street, the sun shines down obliquely from the roof, the little cat lies on the threshold lazily basking in the sun, the white-haired old man occasionally peeks through the door, and the carved wooden building has long lost its face...... The old street is still lively, tenaciously venting to the world the prosperity of the past that refuses to retreat.

The old street is quite old, just like those fragments of history scattered there. A person's aging can only remain in the depths of memory. In fact, no one can resist the laws of nature when they get old, just like the clanging blacksmith shop in the corner of the broken wall in the west of Lao Street, no matter how strong the furnace fire is, no matter how powerful the hammer is wielded, but it can't stop the pace of time, and it can't recall the glorious days of Lao Cai.

In the noisy flow of people in the old street, once familiar faces will inadvertently pass in front of them, or nod their heads, or smile, just like the years that have flowed, mellow and simple, and gradually drift away.

Out of an alley, just as I was immersed in this slow memory and a trace of sadness, a cry in front of me attracted me, according to the experience of inference I can almost be sure that there should be someone crying in front of me, but I still can't help but lean out, through the corner of this alley, I like an unsightly thief, watching the flow of people full of white mourning clothes in front of me, through the flow of people against the wall of a mourning hall looks quiet and strange.

Take a closer look at the picture of a child who is not very old hanging on the top of this mourning hall, and the child is actually smiling very happily at this time on a black and white photo, as if it is out of place in this world of mourning and music.

Somehow, I always felt a little wrong when I looked at the things in front of me, maybe it was because of professional habits, after all, now I am absolutely touching the golden captain, standing in place and thinking carefully for a while, patting my thigh and then I realized why this place makes me feel strange.

According to our customs here, the average child is a child under the age of 12, and after the early death, he cannot set up a mourning hall, because the child's soul is not complete, and setting up a mourning hall will make him become a yin spirit, and he will not want to leave his parents' house for a long time. Therefore, generally whoever has a child is a child under the age of 12 who dies, and after death, he will generally be quietly sent to the deep mountains, wrapped in a mat, and then let the rich wolf, tiger and leopard eat it, so that the child can be reincarnated and resolve the grievances.

At this moment, a cool breeze suddenly blew out of the alley, blowing the paper people and paper horses above the mourning hall whirring, and the few people who were kneeling down in the ground dressed and wearing filial piety were still in a hurry to stop crying, and they were blown to the ground by this gust of wind.

,

Then there was a burst of babbling howls, and after several people stood up in a panic, they muttered something in a low voice, and some onlookers next to them also began to mumble and didn't know what they were gesturing.

And at this moment, a gust of yin wind blew, and the entire mourning hall was filled with loess, and the spirit banner began to swing violently with the yin wind, and it was almost about to fall to the ground

This novel is from Reading Rim