The quietness that the city can't give, the relaxation that the work can't give, and the leisure that the fast-paced life can't give ... Maybe all this is in Bishan.

"When it comes to Lushan, there is light in your eyes." When chatting with friends, her words brought me back to the small village in my memory.

What makes me miss Bishan so much? Sunshine, fields, insects, breezes, distant mountains, old houses, bookstores ... enjoy the harmonious Bishan, just like a naturally customized village, which satisfies all my imagination of the countryside.

A small village by the cloud.

Bishan Village, located in yi county, Huangshan City, Anhui Province, is an ancient village deep in the mountains. The Bishan Mountain in my memory is a picture of "the mountains are high and wide, the buildings are like embroidery, and the white walls and black tiles are row upon row". In the distance of the picture scroll, there are towering mountains filled with green smoke, which are layered on top of each other. In the rice field spread out at the foot of the nearby mountain, there is a small village with white walls. cicadas sing among the trees, and rice waves fluctuate in the breeze. The villagers live and work here. In their spare time, they drink tea and chat on the stone bench at home, coaxing children and Doby dogs. Everything is safe and comfortable.

I like walking in the small village in the morning. The earth has just awakened from mist and dawn. The air is soft, transparent and cool, wrapped in the moisture of the soil and the freshness of the plants, and it hits my face and gets into my nose. My body and mind are full of freshness. Old houses covered with moss appear in front of us from time to time, and the towering horse head wall is covered with mottled traces of time, like an old man standing still for time, quietly guarding the village. Early in the morning, the ancient village was also noisy-in a pool of water in the village, frogs croaked one after another, croaking about what it meant to be the master, which was not interesting at all.

Walking on a country road, you will pass by a paddy field, where the waves of rice are rolling and the heavy ears of rice are full of joy of harvest. No one works in the rice fields in the early morning, only scarecrows of different shapes are silently guarding this land. Watching several children laughing and clapping on the ridge, Jay Chou's "Taoxiang" floated across my mind. "The so-called happiness, barefoot chasing dragonflies in the field to get tired, being stung by bees when stealing fruit, who is snickering? I leaned against the scarecrow, blowing the wind, singing and falling asleep. " This is a carefree childhood.

At the end of the wheat field are mountains. I walked along the tree-lined path to the depths of the mountain. Sometimes I stopped to look at the grass growing tenaciously in the cracks between rocks, the white walls and tiles between the trees at the foot of the mountain, and sometimes I could see the gurgling spring water in the mountain stream. Holding a sip, the clear spring seems to flow into my heart along my throat, and my anxiety and troubles are swept away in an instant, leaving only a sweet smell.

Bookstores in ancient villages

In this quaint village, a group of people with the ideal of rebuilding rural culture opened a "Bishan Bookstore" in an old ancestral hall with a history of 200 years.

Through the narrow stone road, the winding path leads to a secluded place, which is the bamboo slip bookstore in Chai Men. The mottled gray walls of the old ancestral temple are covered with traces of years, and the whole building looks vicissitudes and heavy. If the wooden sign of Bishan Bookstore was not hung at the gate, it would be difficult for tourists to find this bookstore from the rows of ancient houses in the village. Pushing bamboo leaves aside, stepping on the green slate of a hundred years ago and entering the bookstore, the first thing you see is the patio eaves above your head, and the square outline cuts out the blue sky. Pitching, alternating light and shade, sky height and the silence of the old ancestral temple complement each other. In the middle of the log-colored beams and columns under the eaves are four quiet and vigorous characters of "Bishan Bookstore".

I was immediately shocked by the strong scholarly atmosphere here-three bookshelves stood along the wall, and local, poetry and novel books were arranged in turn. In fact, there are more than 20 thousand books hidden here. I like the second floor of the bookstore best. Passing through the narrow corridor and climbing the steep wooden stairs is the open and bright reading space on the second floor. Looking out of the window, the mountains in the distance and the nearby villages are shrouded in fog. Dark color is ink and light color is blank. This kind of fog seems to faint the unmelted ink and dye the scenery in front of us into a natural ink painting.

The second floor is the second-hand book area. I wandered in the yellowed title page and a slightly old-fashioned book. A cup of green tea and a few rolls of second-hand books are just one afternoon. Tired of watching, I will go to the coffee shop on the first floor to order a cup of coffee and some snacks and chat with a stranger. Maybe we have books and writers that we like together, and so on, until the sun goes down and the moon goes to the West Building. ...

There is a lot of rain in Huizhou, and rainy days are a good time to go to the bookstore. Watch the rain slowly flow down the roof tiles and then pour down the eaves all around; Look at the water curtain hanging next to the plaque of "Bishan Bookstore" hanging under the tile on the second floor, which falls on the bluestone board and plays a symphony with the rain; With water vapor, what comes to my face is the earthy smell in the countryside and the ink fragrance in the bookstore, which is the most poetic reading.

Cloud Gate Tower Sunset

The Yunmen Tower, which stands at the head of the village, was built during the Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty and is a symbol of ancient villages. The tower has five floors, white walls and black tiles, and the bell rings in the breeze. Sitting under the tower, you can see mulberry fields and Mihai in the east, clouds and fog in the north, but I love sitting next to Yunmen Tower at dusk, waiting for the sunset.

Bishan dusk, Changfeng wild, boundless heaven and earth. Black birds circled in groups in the fields, and clouds spread overhead, like gorgeous curtains and open poems. The setting sun is like a red fireball shining with Phnom Penh, bursting out with two or three fiery sparks, so a continuous light blue line suddenly emerges from the hazy outline of the distant Woods. Then, the sunset slowly got into the thin clouds, as if rolling in the golden rosy clouds, and then slowly sank below the dark horizon.

I quietly watched the sky darken, the smoke rose, the twilight merged and the stars rose ... until only the wind chimes of Yunmen Tower were left in my ears. Probably everyone's heart is full of loneliness and pain, and every dusk in Bishan is a cure for me.

I once couldn't stop because of the sense of accomplishment, value and self-realization brought by my work, and I couldn't see anything else. But when I sat in front of the Cloud Gate Tower and watched the distant mountains and sunset in silence, I seemed to bump into myself in my heart, the one who was nervous because I couldn't see the future. The sunset in Bishan is like a gentle palm, gently brushing away my fatigue and confusion. The mountains are silent, and I empty in this silence, unload my baggage in this silent sunset, and draw endless strength.

conclusion

In Bishan, I do the same thing every day and look at the same scenery, but I can't get enough of it. The sudden blank in these busy lives freed me from nervousness and impatience, learned to reflect and precipitate, and my heart was full and full. Bishan is like a natural gas station, turning every pause into strength, which makes me more relaxed and calm when I return to the established track.

When I left early in the morning, I passed Bishan Bookstore. My little sister was riding an electric car to pick flowers, and a handful of blooming wild flowers were swaying in her flower basket. She smiled sweetly and said goodbye. After walking through so many places and saying goodbye so many times, this scene is still the most lingering picture in my mind, because it is the place I hate to leave.

Brief introduction of the author

Liu Mingran is a freelance writer.