In the evening, I slowly fade against the guidelines of the last of the sun, the House passed eighteen years ago.The street, the building began to hide in my eyes, like hiding from a long lost old friends.But they changed the look I was very cordial in.I know them as my own understanding. Or as wide street, wide building.Towering wall instead of peace tank door and stone lions, the pair often do we mount spine smooth fled into the lion did not know which seat barren hills.But the door was open, the screen wall “long should children and grandchildren,” words as it is embedded in there, it seems that not even the color was wind and rain erosion.I looked at the same screen wall, a strange feeling I was caught, I seem to be here to see the past nineteen years, no, I seem to be looking at here eighteen years ago in a distant dream.Porters, guards look at me with suspicion.He did not understand my mood.He would know the young eighteen years ago.He was a man with vision expulsion of many intimate memories. Darkness came.My eyes lost everything.Then the lights were door.What light does not illuminate once, but increased my heart of darkness.I had disappointed to go.I go back to when the road toward.Four have gone five steps, I suddenly turned around, look at that building.It is still a gleam in the dark.I seem to see a water bowl filled with hope suddenly dropped to the ground broken in general, I have pain in my heart cried.In this quiet street is covered with a modern city in the night, I thought I saw a light Khalida Greek island.That should be the sister Ai Erke point of light bar.She uses this light to her brother as nautical passage.Nightly nightly bright lights in her window, she has been to death are waiting for the brothers taking a trip back.Finally, she took her down into the grave. Streets are still quiet.Suddenly a familiar voice in my ear softly sang the ancient legend of Europe.Here no one singing this story.It should be the impact of books in my heart left.But this time I thought of my own thing. Eighteen years ago on a spring morning, I leave the city, when this street, I also have a sister, she has also promised to come back one day to see her, to talk about some things outside with her.I believe his promise.I was the only unmarried sister or a bride just more than a month, said she has a gentle temperament of her husband, and therefore will have a long happy years.Although human arrangement was finally “accidentally” destroyed.This should be an “accident”.But this “accident” but without mercy against the young at heart.But I left home a year and a half before the project, they received her sister’s death.My brother used the pen trembling cry narrative – the tragic outcome of a good woman, but also talk about her death being left out of treatment.From that she made her husband so-called gentle man changed him to a dehumanizing way around.He wanted to climb, the result is kept down to below, and finally to the point where the continuation of life with opium.For my sister, I did not take her lifetime loved her, nor had done the same to commemorate the death of her business.She lived lonely, lonely death.Death took her all, this is the fate of the old woman in the place of our. I have been running for eighteen years out.I never talked to my sister who.Only occasionally in a dream I saw the lights Ai Erke.A year ago in Shanghai, I often open your eyes and dream.I looked in the window far shining light, a sea sideways in front of me, light is calling me and I can not wait armpit grew wings, flew immediately to go over there.Heavy dream to suppress my mind, I seem to struggle with many intangible magic hands.I looked at the lights, the road is so far away, I do not have wings.I have only one desire: to fly!fly!Those suffering with heart day!Those terrible nightmare!But I finally came out.I crossed that piled up like a mountain of eighteen years of long years, returned with me to support me and let me marking the place of countless childhood memories.I take a lot of road. Nineteen years, everything seems to be all changed, and it seems nothing has changed.Many people died, many homes destroyed.Many lovely life buried in the loess.Then there are a lot of new people continue to play an unnecessary tragedy.Waste, waste, or that a lot of unnecessary waste ─- life, energy, emotion, wealth, and even laughter and tears.I went like this, come back to see the situation is still the same.Locked up in this inner circle, a few times I could not help but ask myself: Is this for eighteen years all in vain?Is this for many years in the middle of the changed terms and just dress?I painfully rub their hands, afraid to give an answer.I can never forget in this city, I spent fifty in the evening.I myself spent a lot of tears and laughter, but also consumes a lot of other people’s tears and laughter.I hurried to come, we will be in a hurry to go.See the house I was born with a vision of nostalgia, this should be the last time.My heart seems to want to find anything in there.But what I will never be found there.I do not like my aunt or a sister, managed to advance to that the owner has changed hands several mansion, facing the garden blooms cry, lament the rise and fall of a family.Abstract eat their own bitter fruit trees planted, this is a man’s duty.I did not follow those who go one way, of course I can not find here their footprints.Several times through this place, I saw just four words: “long should children and grandchildren.”. “Long should children and grandchildren,” the words of the age than I do not know how many big.It is also the right thing my grandfather left behind.At home I recently read his will.He created a family business with empty hands.To dying children and grandchildren also attentive to arrange a comfortable life.He told descendants kept his house and he built up painstakingly collected paintings.But the answer to his children and grandchildren still the same word: points and sell.I wonder why such a clever old man does not understand a simple truth, wealth is not “long should children and grandchildren,” would help if do not give them a life skill, not indicative of a way of life to them!”Home” can only be destroyed by this small group to grow and develop young at heart, would help if not at the same time allow them to open your eyes and see the world at large; wealth can destroy high ideals and good temperament, and if it consumes only above personal interests.”Long should children and grandchildren,” I hate these four buildings slashing!Many lovely young lives have been devastated, many promising young soul was imprisoned.Many people in this small circle inside haggard next day.This is the “home” !”sweet Home”!This is not the place I should be.Ai Erke lights will not lead me to come here. So in a spring morning, eighteen years ago still those who put me to the door, there is a few less, but also more than a few.And that is still the same, I can not see the shadow of her sister, that I did not wait for her, this time I can not find her grave.An uncle and a cousin sent me to the station, eighteen years ago, they sent me a journey. I am pleased to painfully go.When the car left the station I was really full of nostalgia.But the dust in the early morning breeze, the road, called the motor roar, scroll wheel, and a vast number of fields of rapeseed flowers in full bloom, which dispelled all my sadness.I ignored the advice of fellow travelers, thrusting his hand out the window, to breathe fresh air under the vast sky.I am glad that he once again left the small house, go to the majority of the world!