If you know willows, you may not know people like willows. That's true. I'm one of them. I used to go, willows and willows. When I learned the feelings between willows and people from the book of songs, I was already sitting in the classroom of Handan teachers' college. My life will start a new line, and my relationship with the land will come to an end. At that time, the responsibility for the land of the production team had just come to my father's name. In order to express his devotion to the land, the jubilant father climbed up the old willow tree in the east of the village, cut a bunch of thick willows, hummed a tune, planted them in line on his own land, and said to me with pride: it will grow into purlin beams in a few years, and you can use them when you get married and build a house. At this time, when the autumn wind swept away the fallen leaves in 1980, the autumn wind blew me into the city, while the willow silk lines did not move. Since then, I am at this end and the willow is at that end. The increasingly fashionable city makes the rustic willows gray headed and gray faced, just like us rural people living in the city. The scenery of willows in traditional poetry and prose can only be found in the countryside in memory. At that time, the vast willows dotted the desolate plains, what a style. Now, it's not that rural people prefer willows, but because willows are simple and easy to survive. Just like us rural people born in the 1960s, regardless of natural and man-made disasters, wind and rain, they are filled with the world one after another, cheap continuation of human fireworks, and live humbly and tenaciously. Of course, we are not willing to let the wind and rain blow all our life like willows. We also yearn for the fertile soil for survival. But the noble ideal journey is more difficult than Li Bai's walking along the Shu Road. So on the single wooden bridge of the college entrance examination, in addition to the old three, the most crowded group is us. We didn't have the chance to meet the relative purity of society and people's hearts in the 1950s and recommend going to college later, nor did we catch up with the freedom of choice of diversified life and the easing of enrollment expansion in the college entrance examination in the 1970s. We are in the season of sudden warmth and cold. We are ready to move in early spring and are attacked by spring cold from time to time. I don't know who cut the thin leaves. The spring breeze in February is like scissors. Knowing that the spring breeze is like a knife, we tend to be crowded in the knife cluster. Limited by the number of students enrolled, only 4.3% of them could successfully cross the single wooden bridge of the college entrance examination, which means that 95.7% of people had to fall off the single wooden bridge. Some simply return their ideals to the willows at the edge of the village forever after they fall; Some joined the army and went to the military academy to "save the country with a curve"; More is the repeated defeat and repeated battle. I fell from science in the first year and rushed from liberal arts in the second year. One of my classmates took the exam for six years since 1979. It took two wars of liberation to liberate himself from the single wooden bridge. At that time, even if I was admitted to technical secondary school, it was enough to make the eyes of people in all parts of the country stare out. If I could be admitted to Big Ben college, it would be either smoke on my ancestral grave or immortal fruit on the willow tree. Now, after July, when the clouds open and the sun rises, every family hangs red flags and masters and doctors meet in the street. So we are infatuated with the single wooden bridge and gnash our teeth at the same time. In our eyes, this single wooden bridge is the only way to the Peach Blossom Garden: "it's very narrow at the beginning. It's easy to pass through people. It's suddenly bright when you go back dozens of steps." But these dozens of steps are too long for us to work hard. Those students with non-agricultural registered permanent residence are leisurely walking around, because it doesn't matter whether they pass the exam or not. Anyway, the state arranges work after graduating from high school. To this end, my classmate Zhang Qingyu said to me angrily and reluctantly: if I had a non-agricultural hukou, I wouldn't have to spend this fool! It should be said that our group of people stumbled all the way with the tail of idealism. Just like the era when there was a lot of waste waiting for prosperity and full of vitality, each of us was eager for quick success and instant benefits by changing our registered permanent residence for work, and also had the ideal of thinking about the world. We all felt that we would be either Lu Xun, Guo Moruo, Hua Luogeng, Chen Jingrun in the future. Tired of study, we lay on the big Kang in the dormitory, looking at the purlin beams and rafters on the roof, silently designing our supporting role in the society in the future. We ferry ourselves with books. Although the good or bad luck is unpredictable and the future is uncertain, we often fantasize about the romance of "the willow head on the moon and the appointment after dusk" after reaching the other shore. The study and life of Teachers College passed in a muddle. Upon graduation, several students from the city stayed in the city. Those of us from the countryside got a diploma and non-agricultural Hukou and were assigned to work in rural middle schools. With tears, "I wish you success", I left the excitement and encouragement to the city melancholy, and reluctantly and helplessly returned to the rural middle school. After planting the willow tree, my father never took care of it again. Just like to me, he welcomed me to the world and became the shopkeeper. It's not that our father and son have weak feelings - he can't read and guide my study when I read; He has no power and can't pave a bright future for me. What he can consider for me is only some very specific and practical issues, such as marriage. At that time, I didn't know the height of heaven and earth. I thought that without the fatigue of farming, there were thousands of miles of rivers and mountains in front of me. When I left the village to say goodbye to the sweat all year round, my father's words made me feel discouraged. He said: it's not bad to be a teacher after graduation. At least it's easy to find a daughter-in-law. So after I took the exam to school, my father breathed a sigh of relief: good trees don't need to be cut down and good people don't need to be cared about. Look at my second boy, I didn't care about him. The willow Sutra of inaction has become the talk of my father for many years. My experience in the city proves that my father's Willow Sutra is one-sided. It only applies to willows and before my entrance examination. Because cities are not villages. On a weekend when the wind was not cold, I suddenly felt childlike and wanted to twist a willow flute for my son. After walking through many streets and alleys, I didn't find a willow tree. Wutong in the park gate, we found that a few willow trees were squeezed between the flowers and trees, in a threatening manner, and the indelex French parasol was filling the streets with great pressure. The silk silk facing of the slim willow was only a specimen in the park. Generation after generation of rural people from the field to the city, with the simplicity of willows to continue the history of the city. One after another, willows enrich the city's scenery and people's feelings with their toughness. Willows are one of the oldest images of the city. Today, the city's crisp breast powder face has no trace of willows. Is it because of the progress and ruthlessness of the city, or because of the degradation of willow species? No matter whether the city is welcome or not, we have entered the city without hesitation. We inherit the simple nature of the willow and look for the ideal nobility in the reinforced concrete room with the loss of the willow. Compared with the first generation of rural people who surrounded the cities and finally occupied the cities in those years, we do not have the tough means of dictatorship; Compared with the second generation of countrymen who later recruited a large number of workers into the city, we did not feel complacent and tame because of luck; We rely on our own intelligence, have no capital to dictate, and don't want to be at the mercy of others. Not long after those students like me came to the countryside, many came to the city in search of dreams. At that time, the pride of instructing the rivers and mountains was still surging in the chest. When they met, they always encouraged each other and thought they were also the sun at eight or nine o'clock in the city. However, hair loss exhausted the brain and wrinkles changed the psychology. In just over a decade, the mutual encouragement of that year finally turned into a staggered mutual comfort, and gradually learned to use alcohol to smooth the ravines in the heart. The south of the Huaihe River is shy, but the south of the Huaihe River is shy. Let us lose our future. There are few willows blowing on the branches. There are no fragrant grass anywhere in the world. I have to comfort myself and ease my embarrassment. The embarrassing situation has caused three students like Liu Mian to go with the wind. Just reaching middle age, the flower of life withers sadly. Our fragrant grass that can be attached to the branches and swing is still far away. The metaphysical is called Tao, and the metaphysical is called instrument. We have neither Tao nor instrument. The ideal fresh stuffing that once gave up is like Tangyuan rolling in the open secular world. It is entangled layer by layer by the mediocre dust, and gradually becomes a non individual dough suitable for the social taste, becoming a foil and sacrifice. Endure to change the floating name into a shallow and low singing. Will the helplessness of romantic poets a thousand years ago really come true in us? In the eyes of rural people, as long as it is a non-agricultural hukou, it can be summarized into the ranks of urban people, no matter where you work. They believe that we rural people living in the city are wrapped in a piece of "city people" gold paper. Our appearance is bright and bright, and the taste is only clear to ourselves. Unless there's a hole in this gold paper. Zhang Qingyu was the first to have a hole. So he is often one of the topics at high school reunion. Zhang Qingyu's broken hole appears in marriage. When my son started primary school, Zhang Qingyu's boy was as solid as a rock. It was not his psychological and physical problems, nor his work unit, but his own commitment that hindered his marriage. He has two younger brothers who are shoulder to shoulder. His parents are honest farmers. In order to reduce the burden on his parents, he vowed to consider his marriage after his two younger brothers got married. His girlfriend, who worked at the desk with him, was also affectionate to him, but she was worried about his family conditions. Coupled with the long-distance love run and the obstruction of Qingyu's promotion, she finally married the son of a director. Therefore, the introverted Zhang Qingyu has mental problems under the heavy pressure of family and marriage. When I saw him again, he was haggard and numb in the mental hospital, surrounded by his elderly parents. He kept asking me about the price of steel and cement in the market and said he would go home and build a four story building. His parents lived on one floor, and he and his two brothers lived on one floor respectively. I know he is and may never be able to do this, but his deep sense of responsibility made me almost cry. Yes, none of us rural people who tried our best to jump out of the agricultural door has a brilliant ideal? Which one doesn't have the eagerly looking eyes behind him? It is this unforgettable sense of responsibility that makes us move between urban and rural areas and bear double the pressure. If we can't change our destiny, we have to change our character. We try to adapt to God's arrangement like willows. The trivial things dictated by others bury the ambition and pride of the past day by day, but the value of friendship is increasing day by day. Whether we sympathize with each other or sympathize with each other, we are struggling in the same situation after all. Therefore, when I saw the words "Zhang Qingyu" from the gate register, I felt a fever. The dirty countryman who had been wandering outside the gate for a long time was driven away by the gate guard with a strong sense of responsibility. Only the three words I was familiar with were pitifully lying on the paper, and he had lost his old spirit of elation. I wonder if it was his subconscious concern for my good classmate when he was ill, or did he come to me from his hometown in the countryside to talk about his depression after waking up? More than ten days later, the sad news of Zhang Qingyu hanging himself came from his hometown. Back home, I looked at the crooked willow outside the village for a long time. I couldn't imagine the pain when two strands of string were twisted around my neck. But I believe that Qingyu must be sober when he walks towards the willow. He must think of his living mission and the sadness of his inability to change his fate. His self-esteem makes him unwilling to be a drag on his relatives. Therefore, in the fruitful autumn, the willow harvested Zhang Qingyu. I lost a good brother who used to confide in me. many things grow in the garden that were never sown there. The willows in front of many graves in the countryside are often written by people unintentionally and deliberately. The filial son's prayer flags were made of willow paste. When the deceased was buried, the prayer flags were buried at one end of the grave, so the willows sprouted and took root and gradually became trees. Clusters of wild willows on the field are often annotations of life. Zhang Qingyu's grave is bare and has nothing. He has no offspring and no one sends his soul with flags. Naturally, there is no annotation of the will of life. But in fact, it is only an external symbol, because Zhang Qingyu itself is a freehand annotation of willow. Later, I thought that the retreat of willows to the countryside could not explain the indifference of the city. The real reason was the popularity of willows in their untimely life and the artificial desertification of their living soil. Just like our group of rural people struggling in the city, they are typical characters in a typical environment. The good news is that we still have the support of the countryside. But back home, the row of willows that my father planted on the ground shook his head strangely in the autumn wind. Obviously, it regarded me as a city man.

If you know willows, you may not know people like willows. That's true. I'm one of them. I used to go, willows and willows. When I learned the feelings between willows and people from the book of songs, I was already sitting in the classroom of Handan teachers' college. My life will start a new line, and my relationship with the land will come to an end. At that time, the responsibility for the land of the production team had just come to my father's name. In order to express his devotion to the land, the jubilant father climbed up the old willow tree in the east of the village, cut a bunch of thick willows, hummed a tune, planted them in line on his own land, and said to me with pride: it will grow into purlin beams in a few years, and you can use them when you get married and build a house. At this time, when the autumn wind swept away the fallen leaves in 1980, the autumn wind blew me into the city, while the willow silk lines did not move. Since then, I am at this end and the willow is at that end. The increasingly fashionable city makes the rustic willows gray headed and gray faced, just like us rural people living in the city. The scenery of willows in traditional poetry and prose can only be found in the countryside in memory. At that time, the vast willows dotted the desolate plains, what a style. Now, it's not that rural people prefer willows, but because willows are simple and easy to survive. Just like us rural people born in the 1960s, regardless of natural and man-made disasters, wind and rain, they are filled with the world one after another, cheap continuation of human fireworks, and live humbly and tenaciously. Of course, we are not willing to let the wind and rain blow all our life like willows. We also yearn for the fertile soil for survival. But the noble ideal journey is more difficult than Li Bai's walking along the Shu Road. So on the single wooden bridge of the college entrance examination, in addition to the old three, the most crowded group is us. We didn't have the chance to meet the relative purity of society and people's hearts in the 1950s and recommend going to college later, nor did we catch up with the freedom of choice of diversified life and the easing of enrollment expansion in the college entrance examination in the 1970s. We are in the season of sudden warmth and cold. We are ready to move in early spring and are attacked by spring cold from time to time. I don't know who cut the thin leaves. The spring breeze in February is like scissors. Knowing that the spring breeze is like a knife, we tend to be crowded in the knife cluster. Limited by the number of students enrolled, only 4.3% of them could successfully cross the single wooden bridge of the college entrance examination, which means that 95.7% of people had to fall off the single wooden bridge. Some simply return their ideals to the willows at the edge of the village forever after they fall; Some joined the army and went to the military academy to "save the country with a curve"; More is the repeated defeat and repeated battle. I fell from science in the first year and rushed from liberal arts in the second year. One of my classmates took the exam for six years since 1979. It took two wars of liberation to liberate himself from the single wooden bridge. At that time, even if I was admitted to technical secondary school, it was enough to make the eyes of people in all parts of the country stare out. If I could be admitted to Big Ben college, it would be either smoke on my ancestral grave or immortal fruit on the willow tree. Now, after July, when the clouds open and the sun rises, every family hangs red flags and masters and doctors meet in the street. So we are infatuated with the single wooden bridge and gnash our teeth at the same time. In our eyes, this single wooden bridge is the only way to the Peach Blossom Garden: "it's very narrow at the beginning. It's easy to pass through people. It's suddenly bright when you go back dozens of steps." But these dozens of steps are too long for us to work hard. Those students with non-agricultural registered permanent residence are leisurely walking around, because it doesn't matter whether they pass the exam or not. Anyway, the state arranges work after graduating from high school. To this end, my classmate Zhang Qingyu said to me angrily and reluctantly: if I had a non-agricultural hukou, I wouldn't have to spend this fool! It should be said that our group of people stumbled all the way with the tail of idealism. Just like the era when there was a lot of waste waiting for prosperity and full of vitality, each of us was eager for quick success and instant benefits by changing our registered permanent residence for work, and also had the ideal of thinking about the world. We all felt that we would be either Lu Xun, Guo Moruo, Hua Luogeng, Chen Jingrun in the future. Tired of study, we lay on the big Kang in the dormitory, looking at the purlin beams and rafters on the roof, silently designing our supporting role in the society in the future. We ferry ourselves with books. Although the good or bad luck is unpredictable and the future is uncertain, we often fantasize about the romance of "the willow head on the moon and the appointment after dusk" after reaching the other shore. The study and life of Teachers College passed in a muddle. Upon graduation, several students from the city stayed in the city. Those of us from the countryside got a diploma and non-agricultural Hukou and were assigned to work in rural middle schools. With tears, "I wish you success", I left the excitement and encouragement to the city melancholy, and reluctantly and helplessly returned to the rural middle school. After planting the willow tree, my father never took care of it again. Just like to me, he welcomed me to the world and became the shopkeeper. It's not that our father and son have weak feelings - he can't read and guide my study when I read; He has no power and can't pave a bright future for me. What he can consider for me is only some very specific and practical issues, such as marriage. At that time, I didn't know the height of heaven and earth. I thought that without the fatigue of farming, there were thousands of miles of rivers and mountains in front of me. When I left the village to say goodbye to the sweat all year round, my father's words made me feel discouraged. He said: it's not bad to be a teacher after graduation. At least it's easy to find a daughter-in-law. So after I took the exam to school, my father breathed a sigh of relief: good trees don't need to be cut down and good people don't need to be cared about. Look at my second boy, I didn't care about him. The willow Sutra of inaction has become the talk of my father for many years. My experience in the city proves that my father's Willow Sutra is one-sided. It only applies to willows and before my entrance examination. Because cities are not villages. On a weekend when the wind was not cold, I suddenly felt childlike and wanted to twist a willow flute for my son. After walking through many streets and alleys, I didn't find a willow tree. Wutong in the park gate, we found that a few willow trees were squeezed between the flowers and trees, in a threatening manner, and the indelex French parasol was filling the streets with great pressure. The silk silk facing of the slim willow was only a specimen in the park. Generation after generation of rural people from the field to the city, with the simplicity of willows to continue the history of the city. One after another, willows enrich the city's scenery and people's feelings with their toughness. Willows are one of the oldest images of the city. Today, the city's crisp breast powder face has no trace of willows. Is it because of the progress and ruthlessness of the city, or because of the degradation of willow species? No matter whether the city is welcome or not, we have entered the city without hesitation. We inherit the simple nature of the willow and look for the ideal nobility in the reinforced concrete room with the loss of the willow. Compared with the first generation of rural people who surrounded the cities and finally occupied the cities in those years, we do not have the tough means of dictatorship; Compared with the second generation of countrymen who later recruited a large number of workers into the city, we did not feel complacent and tame because of luck; We rely on our own intelligence, have no capital to dictate, and don't want to be at the mercy of others. Not long after those students like me came to the countryside, many came to the city in search of dreams. At that time, the pride of instructing the rivers and mountains was still surging in the chest. When they met, they always encouraged each other and thought they were also the sun at eight or nine o'clock in the city. However, hair loss exhausted the brain and wrinkles changed the psychology. In just over a decade, the mutual encouragement of that year finally turned into a staggered mutual comfort, and gradually learned to use alcohol to smooth the ravines in the heart. The south of the Huaihe River is shy, but the south of the Huaihe River is shy. Let us lose our future. There are few willows blowing on the branches. There are no fragrant grass anywhere in the world. I have to comfort myself and ease my embarrassment. The embarrassing situation has caused three students like Liu Mian to go with the wind. Just reaching middle age, the flower of life withers sadly. Our fragrant grass that can be attached to the branches and swing is still far away. The metaphysical is called Tao, and the metaphysical is called instrument. We have neither Tao nor instrument. The ideal fresh stuffing that once gave up is like Tangyuan rolling in the open secular world. It is entangled layer by layer by the mediocre dust, and gradually becomes a non individual dough suitable for the social taste, becoming a foil and sacrifice. Endure to change the floating name into a shallow and low singing. Will the helplessness of romantic poets a thousand years ago really come true in us? In the eyes of rural people, as long as it is a non-agricultural hukou, it can be summarized into the ranks of urban people, no matter where you work. They believe that we rural people living in the city are wrapped in a piece of "city people" gold paper. Our appearance is bright and bright, and the taste is only clear to ourselves. Unless there's a hole in this gold paper. Zhang Qingyu was the first to have a hole. So he is often one of the topics at high school reunion. Zhang Qingyu's broken hole appears in marriage. When my son started primary school, Zhang Qingyu's boy was as solid as a rock. It was not his psychological and physical problems, nor his work unit, but his own commitment that hindered his marriage. He has two younger brothers who are shoulder to shoulder. His parents are honest farmers. In order to reduce the burden on his parents, he vowed to consider his marriage after his two younger brothers got married. His girlfriend, who worked at the desk with him, was also affectionate to him, but she was worried about his family conditions. Coupled with the long-distance love run and the obstruction of Qingyu's promotion, she finally married the son of a director. Therefore, the introverted Zhang Qingyu has mental problems under the heavy pressure of family and marriage. When I saw him again, he was haggard and numb in the mental hospital, surrounded by his elderly parents. He kept asking me about the price of steel and cement in the market and said he would go home and build a four story building. His parents lived on one floor, and he and his two brothers lived on one floor respectively. I know he is and may never be able to do this, but his deep sense of responsibility made me almost cry. Yes, none of us rural people who tried our best to jump out of the agricultural door has a brilliant ideal? Which one doesn't have the eagerly looking eyes behind him? It is this unforgettable sense of responsibility that makes us move between urban and rural areas and bear double the pressure. If we can't change our destiny, we have to change our character. We try to adapt to God's arrangement like willows. The trivial things dictated by others bury the ambition and pride of the past day by day, but the value of friendship is increasing day by day. Whether we sympathize with each other or sympathize with each other, we are struggling in the same situation after all. Therefore, when I saw the words "Zhang Qingyu" from the gate register, I felt a fever. The dirty countryman who had been wandering outside the gate for a long time was driven away by the gate guard with a strong sense of responsibility. Only the three words I was familiar with were pitifully lying on the paper, and he had lost his old spirit of elation. I wonder if it was his subconscious concern for my good classmate when he was ill, or did he come to me from his hometown in the countryside to talk about his depression after waking up? More than ten days later, the sad news of Zhang Qingyu hanging himself came from his hometown. Back home, I looked at the crooked willow outside the village for a long time. I couldn't imagine the pain when two strands of string were twisted around my neck. But I believe that Qingyu must be sober when he walks towards the willow. He must think of his living mission and the sadness of his inability to change his fate. His self-esteem makes him unwilling to be a drag on his relatives. Therefore, in the fruitful autumn, the willow harvested Zhang Qingyu. I lost a good brother who used to confide in me. many things grow in the garden that were never sown there. The willows in front of many graves in the countryside are often written by people unintentionally and deliberately. The filial son's prayer flags were made of willow paste. When the deceased was buried, the prayer flags were buried at one end of the grave, so the willows sprouted and took root and gradually became trees. Clusters of wild willows on the field are often annotations of life. Zhang Qingyu's grave is bare and has nothing. He has no offspring and no one sends his soul with flags. Naturally, there is no annotation of the will of life. But in fact, it is only an external symbol, because Zhang Qingyu itself is a freehand annotation of willow. Later, I thought that the retreat of willows to the countryside could not explain the indifference of the city. The real reason was the popularity of willows in their untimely life and the artificial desertification of their living soil. Just like our group of rural people struggling in the city, they are typical characters in a typical environment. The good news is that we still have the support of the countryside. But back home, the row of willows that my father planted on the ground shook his head strangely in the autumn wind. Obviously, it regarded me as a city man.