Standing in the territory of his hometown, Zhang Jiaze's heart is as desolate as the once lush wilderness of his hometown.

The wind, like a child, blew through the low valley and the honey locust tree, which was at least a hundred years old. The acacia locust tree is full of acacia locusts, but no one collects them as treasures anymore and uses them as a family's washing supplies for a year; Or on a cold winter night, while other families are still asleep, quietly get up in single clothes, grope on the ground to pick up those honey locusts, and then take it to the county seat to sell it when the sky is not bright, 8 cents a catty, a full load, can be exchanged for half a year's salt for the family.

The night sky is as bright as it was when I was a child. Looking up at the dense starry sky, the starry sky hung low, as close as childhood, and tears slipped from his eyes.

Yes, there have been countless summer nights when he lies on the cob of the harvest and sleeps on it with his childhood friends, counting the stars in the sky while blowing the cool breeze of his habit. When a meteor crosses the sky, my childhood thoughts will fly far, far away, imagining how wonderful the world beyond the mountain is; When the watermelons were ripe, he took a mat and went down to the shanty in the sand to take pictures of the watermelons, although he knew that there were no thieves at that time, but he was still happy to do it; On those summer nights when there were no electric lights, the family would eat porridge or a bowl of noodles on the table in the courtyard by the moonlight and the stars, and watch the fireflies flutter by the canal behind the house, and they would excitedly drop the dishes and chopsticks to chase the elves of the summer night, and put them in a glass bottle; In the early hours of the morning when Daystar had just risen, they went out into the field to cut peas with their scythes, and once, when his sickle was about to touch a pheasant, the pheasant woke up from its sleep, flapped its wings in a panic, and disappeared into the still dark dawn......

The sun shone brightly in the valley. He had not walked the field trails in at least 18 years, and he could hear his heartbeat with every step he took.

Yes, from these dirt paths, they pick up their own sweet potatoes in the fall, yellow corn cobs in the summer, and huge potatoes in the spring. In the spring, they carried the fertilizer they had stored for the winter to the fields, and the long and steep slopes did not even have a flat land to rest on, and on the dirt road that had to be climbed over three hills in a row, they could only change the heavy yellow wood pole from the left shoulder to the right shoulder, and then from the right shoulder to the left shoulder, and they wiped a handful of sweat that was about to flow into their eyes, and the sweat dripped silently on the dust under their feet, and only the sound of the squeaking of the pole resounded in the valley. In the autumn, they set fire to the weeds in the fields, which were reduced to ashes and fertile for a whole year. In order to harvest more food, they reclaimed wasteland everywhere and dropped a few pumpkin seeds in early spring, so that the land could give back to them in early summer. Today, the green fields of childhood have been largely barren, and a large number of people have abandoned their hometowns and left them to the wasteland. In those days, the fields that were planted with the dealers were full of wild grass, and the wild grass grew like a wanderer's homesickness, and even people couldn't get into it.

Every hillside, every valley floor, every ravine, even every stretch of road, has its name. This is Yuzu Tree Bay, where it is called Baishabao, and in the distance are three pile of graves, as well as Jujube Tree Slope, Hongtiao Bay, and Yanbao Bay...... They have planted beans, corn cobs, and soybeans in this field. They used to graze cattle and fight grass wars on that hillside; They used to catch loaches and crabs in the canal in front of the village, and in those hot afternoons of their childhood, the sun hung in the sky and the sound of frolicking resounded in the sky.

He doesn't remember the day he left his hometown, he doesn't remember the day he began to alienate his hometown, he doesn't remember the day when he stopped stepping into the country roads that he was once familiar with, he doesn't remember the day he started growing up, he only remembers waking up in countless dark nights, and what flashes in his mind is still the green grass and trees of his hometown, the bright stars of his hometown, and the soft March breeze of his hometown.

He envied the honey locust trees in his hometown. For more than 100 years, it has been standing in the territory of its hometown, watching everyone in its hometown be born, watching everyone born in its hometown leave, watching which person in its hometown left and never returned, watching which person burst into tears when he returned to his hometown, and watching how the elderly in his hometown were finally carried to the cemetery in the village. It has never left its hometown, and it has been witnessing every dawn and night of its hometown.

He envied a crop in his hometown. It is familiar with the taste of the soil of its hometown, it watches ants swarm over the vast fields and move to the highlands before the heavy rain pours, it watches how a mature seed enters the basket of the hometown people, how it enters the hometown people's stove, how it becomes the hometown people's plate meal, how it becomes the most primitive hometown taste.

He envied a speck of dust in his hometown. It nourishes everything in its hometown, it will not deceive the diligent hometown people, its blood flows with the nutrients of the hometown people, let the wind blow, let the rain wash away, it will never leave the hometown.

My biggest childhood dream was to leave my hometown and go to the outside world.

Now, his biggest dream is to leave the outside world and return to his hometown.

It's just that the once prosperous hometown is now silent.

He was on this side of his hometown, day after day, and the torrent of time separated him from his hometown until he no longer had the strength to go back.

He stood in the wilderness of his hometown, the wind of his hometown was still the same, the stars of his hometown were still the same, the grass and trees of his hometown were still the same, the sound of his childhood frolicking broke through the air, and the wind was still blowing low across the valley. Why is he the only one standing in the wasteland of his homeland?

Those childhood friends from all over the world, can you go back to your hometown again?

Time, take him back to his childhood again, just once.

A few years later, when people pass by here, do you know that in this wasteland, there was such a lush memory of time?

As long as he walks into his hometown, he feels warm.

No matter how many people outside the mountain are sophisticated, no matter how much wind and rain they have, they are all isolated from the wide robe of their hometown, and they are all wrapped in the wide robe of their hometown.