Rushed to Li Zhuang, twilight already come, eaten dinner, then plunged into this prestigious town, to recover the ancient atmosphere of the long-accumulated.
Along the south bank of the Yangtze River was a new revision of Binjiang Road, it is probably the world's shortest Binjiang Road, and about 200 meters, small and clean, the people here after dinner dancing, drinking tea, relaxed but peaceful. Riverside street is a row of neat pavilion, because of the casting of reinforced concrete, extraordinarily ambitious, but it also lost a dash of ancient charm. Has completed Binjiang Road, came to the streets of true. Street name plates in the faint moonlight blurred foot of sand piled in the streets, there is no urban street formation, more years of bumps, but the pace is more unambiguous. On both sides of the houses are wooden structures, wind and rain erosion, traces of it have been unable to get to identification of old age, but more in the Great outside the waist so high that only a small door caught my attention, probably wanted to come home to fewer public appearances girl strike! Sitting in front of the old people are enjoying after a day of leisure crafts, Diao roll of pipe, pull a few lives on the eyes of the old days of samsara disclosed traces of everything with me so close, but also with me is so far. Looked up, mixed the eaves in the dim light under the dark mass in rushing toward Surely, I could not help to speed up the pace.
In fact, Street is not too long, about half an hour have been times I have gone a whole, dimly through several temples to see form a Ming Dynasty, but also in the Qing Dynasty and modern, could not but admire the attention of the history of the Li Zhuang, think of a half more than a century ago Tongji students on this "Li Zhi, sharpening swords," Children first week, Liang and so also in this missionary Tuition for the first time with them to go so near, I wonder if my honor, or my sadness. Today, the book has not heard sound of Lang Lang, the remaining dilapidated cornices, mottled walls and a few tourists v. Punta Suocao to her former glory, deserted apart from a little more on the weight of history.
As strange, I know this is only cursory only, to understand Li Zhuang, I have to listen to her voice. End of the street are two old people drinking, when I politely inquired to them about the story of Li Zhuang, the two old enthusiastically asked me the same drink, drunkenness Keju loudly to me about the disgrace of their proud of the "Nine-palace 18 Temple," "spin Lo Hall," and so they know and do not know everything. Farewell 2 Weizui the elderly, the night was dark, and the moonlight shadow of my old elder was a long pull, Ying-Ming brick in the town, the Qing Dynasty wall. Here is different from the Jiangsu and Zhejiang small bridges of the others, because she has the backing river, with the west, uninhibited, there are also different from the edge of the ancient city of Lijiang, because she has thick cultural atmosphere, and full of the footprints of the legendary sages, perhaps In my view, not Li Zhuang of the past, but their own future.
The next day, clear blue skies, I was completely under the guidance of guide has completed this town, although the sun was shining, although there are detailed explanations, my mind was always emerges out of the picture last night, alone, helpless, memory How many deep Desolation, dash of deep, is a matter of national spirit of the aftertaste. Farewell, and Li Zhuang, wish you a cloud of dust yesterday, with the journey of the prosperity of present and future!
