Yakun Night Reading 丨 City Symbols (with Sound)

...... (Excerpt)

Cities, full of desire, full of memories, are like people. What are the disadvantages of that? Maybe it's a belief?

That day I went to a medicinal herb shop next to the White Pagoda Temple, and walked into it (one of the ten thousand reasons I love Beijing). The sun was so good, the shadows of the pine trees were projected on the red wall and the white tower, and I walked leisurely around the tower. An uncle who hurriedly concentrated on circling the tower kindly reminded me to "go along." I said oh oh oh, turn around. In fact, I am not praying around the tower, and I really can't figure out which side is smooth and which side is reverse. But listening to the uncle say this, he is still willing to do it according to the rules, who does not want to ask for an auspicious and smooth, but ordinary people are all sentient beings, and there is always fear and hope in their hearts.

The cold wind, the warm sun, so around the white tower, I saw a pear in every corner of the wall under the tower. I asked a dangling uncle why it was a pear? In my heart, I thought half-heartedly of the Buddhist family's "love and separation from suffering." But uncle said, it is just a kind of casual offering, sometimes pear, sometimes apple.

I remember walking in the woods near my home in Chicago before Christmas, one day it was cold and overcast, and I hurriedly found that on the bare treetops in the forest, I don't know who hung the colored balls all the way, which made people feel new and happy. Maybe it's a game, maybe it's a hilarity, maybe it's a prayer, but it all adds life and inspiration to the withered, somewhat desolate forest, like the last leaf in O Henry's novel—

Walking out of the White Pagoda Temple, I saw a father with a toddler. The little man was wrapped in a ball of roundness and cuteness, and the father looked a little careless, pulling a rope tied to the little man in his hand. The little man is full of curiosity about his surroundings, and he wants to run around, but he is always dragged back by his father.

I got on the bus and headed east from The West Side. Looking at the people who came up to give up their seats, they nagged and recognized the northeast fellows. The old woman with the cart pulling the grocery cart said she was going to Miyun and going home. The uncle asked where did you come home from? The old woman replied, "At both ends is home, and to the west is the son's house..." Speaking of miyun again, the mountains and rivers are beautiful-

Standing on the bus, looking out the window, swaying all the way. The symbols, signs, words that sweep over these cities... A sentence came to mind: "There is no real ending, that's just where you stop the story." ”