The world is filled with alienation and indifference, and people have subconsciously realized that there should be a place for the soul to belong.

The soul belongs to Sanmao. And I think, if we can find the spiritual belonging in this vast life, it must be home.

Only the hometown can tell you the fairy tales overnight; only the hometown can understand the process from blue silk to white hair; only the hometown can understand the love of your earthly smile.

A foreign friend, who had been to my hometown for some time on business, complained about the difference between his hometown and the city he had lived in. He was like a wronged child, often comparing the two. All kinds of complaints about hometown's bad and backward.

Sometimes I do too. In the face of some undesirable home - backward facilities and congested traffic, splashed thoughts and decadent development, upside-down order and irreparable decay holes, I simply hate iron but not steel.

However, this place where I have lived for many years since I was a child and raised me, I still like it inexplicably, from the bottom of my heart, mixed with resentment and hatred.

After all, that's my hometown.

Because drifting is full of life, the hometown has become a carrier that can contain and grow memories. The writer Liu Liangcheng said that the hometown is a man's shyness and a man's greatest secret. I hide my hometown behind my back and go all alone to make a living.

Hometown is nothing to replace. For the definition of hometown, I think it should be a spiritual sustenance. Or in an unknown hill, or in an unknown river, or in an old tree, or in a courtyard to witness the passage of time and space...

As for my memory, my spiritual sustenance is rooted in a river in my hometown.

It's a river that flows through the north. I still can't even name it. Because it flows from the west to the east from the north side of the village, the villagers are used to calling this river the "North River".