The emerald green on both sides of the driveway, waking up with people in the thin and cool vitality, presenting wordless intimacy to each other.

At the end of June last year (1945), when I took the train from Leningrad to Moscow, I reviewed it once, this time from Shanghai to Nanjing, and met again near Nanjing. If there is something mysterious, the deep emerald green, the emerald green that breathes solemnly and verdantly, seems to be called mysterious. It was not a long time, and when the darkness of the morning gradually dissolved, the emerald green mystery and even intimacy gradually faded. In the territory of the Soviet Union, most of the vast forests are seen as far as the eye can see, and the emerald green mystery is even deeper, and what you see in the south of the Yangtze River is mostly a flat domain, although the mystery is inferior, but the intimacy seems to be stronger.

Just when the verdant intimacy gradually faded away, the train arrived in Nanjing, and it was six o'clock in the morning. It's a little slim, a little deserted, and I didn't meet a single acquaintance at the station. Long red cloth banners were hung to welcome the demobilization of the Youth Army. That was two days ago, and the flag hadn't been taken down yet.

But it was not as rusty as when we went to a foreign country, and the two of us, Feng Naichao and I, each carrying a hand of luggage, followed the flow of people, and flowed out of the station slightly behind. There were quite a few rickshaw drivers, coachmen, and coachmen who came to welcome us.

- Where do you go first? I consulted with Na Chao.

- Let's go to the political council and find Lei Zhen.

- It's too early, no, it's not time to go to work. Let's go to the office of the Democratic League first.

Nai Chao took out the manual and found out that the address he wrote down was "Anjiazhuang No. 16". - No, I remember that the newspaper said "Lanjiazhuang".

I hired a car and decided to go to Lanjiazhuang first. A vintage car that should have been sent to the museum to retire carried us, panting and jolting around the city of Nanjing. I walked through some streets, and I walked through some side streets. The most striking thing is that there are many empty and desolate grounds, and in the midst of most of the low market houses, one or two large, East-meets-West palace-like buildings suddenly appear. Most of these palaces that combine Chinese and Western styles are official halls. It's really a bit of a disharmony, as if the ten centuries are condensed into one lens. The main street is modern and wide, and it seems to be wider without tram equipment. Just because it seems too wide, even the new palaces that are supposed to be majestic are too short. Occasionally, some tall western-style buildings are becoming more and more outstanding, and even the palace seems to be kowtowing to the western-style buildings.

Suddenly, another section of railway track was crossed, and two new buildings in the style of the Temple of Literature appeared in front of it. On the left hand of the building, on the main entrance hangs a horizontal plaque of "selection of talents". The driver told us: This is the examination room, and it is the place where the official is examined.

The car turned right in front of this examination room, and the second building turned out to be the examination hall, which was more like the Temple of Literature. In front of the door, a half-moon-shaped pond was carved across the road, which was naturally taken from the old panshui, but unfortunately the pool surface was too small, and one corner had collapsed. In the square in front of the pond, there is a building that I don't know whether it is a tower or a pavilion, but it is a bit like the font library that burned the character paper in the past, but it is empty.

After passing through the examination hall, I suddenly entered the countryside. After crossing a decaying wooden bridge, the car stopped. The driver said: I have arrived at Lanjiazhuang.

Yes, just on the left side of the road, there is a single broken bungalow standing in the fields on all sides. Although only the empty wreckage remains, the blue magnetic door plate at the door is indeed written Lanjiazhuang No. 15.

I got out of the car and wanted to find the location of "No. 16". was looking up, and I didn't think that I was on the left hand of the broken bungalow, and on the western-style building behind me, I saw Luo Ziwei.

- Heh! I couldn't help but cry out with joy: yes, there it is!

The pleasure of this discovery is indescribable, or perhaps exaggerated, and I feel like Christopher Columbus after a long voyage that has discovered the New World.