The afternoon sun shines in through the glass of the balcony window, which is a bit warm.

Near the balcony, there was an old rattan chair that was a bit old. Song Yuanchao sat in the chair. On his left hand, there was a thermos cup on the square wooden bench that was used as a coffee table. The lid of the cup was taken off and placed aside. The yellowed strong tea soaked in the cup was steaming. The TV in the room was on, and news reports were heard intermittently.

This is an ordinary community located within the outer ring road of the southern part of Shanghai. Such communities are everywhere in this international metropolis. Most of them are resettlement houses built one after another in the late 1980s and 1990s. The same is true for the house where Song Yuanchao was located. After the old house in the city center was demolished, I got two houses, one for rent and the other for self-occupied. I have lived here for nearly thirty years.

Time flies, and Song Yuanchao, who is still a middle-aged man, is now nearly seventy years old. He has been retired for many years and lives alone without children.

Song Yuanchao got married when he was young, but this forced marriage lasted for less than three years and ended in breaking up.

After the divorce, Song Yuanchao had no idea of ​​getting married again and lived alone until now.

As he got older, his body gradually became worse than before. Especially after accidentally falling down the stairs last year, Song Yuanchao's health was getting worse and worse. In addition, due to the epidemic that lasted for several years, Song Yuanchao went out less and less this year, and more often he sat quietly and basked in the sun and recalled the past like now.

Life is short, and life also has many helplessness. Many past events seem to be within reach with your eyes closed, but they are so far away.

Before retirement, Song Yuanchao had the habit of writing diaries. In his diary, he recorded his life in various periods of youth, youth and middle age. Several thick diaries that had long been ground out of burrs can be said to represent Song Yuanchao's life.

When she was young, Song Yuanchao also had a passionate and vigorous work, giving advice, and inspiring words. She also had a girl she secretly fell in love with and had a beautiful dream for the future...

But all this disappeared, and life finally left Song Yuanchao with only a mess and deep helplessness. Now he has gradually reached the last part of the years, and those regrets cannot be saved.

Slowly stood up, Song Yuanchao got up and went to the bookshelf beside him, and pulled out an album.

When I opened the album, I found that there were old photos inside. Song Yuanchao in the photos was so young and smiling so brightly.

The slightly trembling and boring fingers stroked the yellowed photos. This was not touching the photos, but touching the disappearing memories of his youth. I don’t know how long it took, Song Yuanchao sighed sadly and closed the album...

When he was about to put the album back in place, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if his invisible hands suddenly stopped his heart.

With a muffled groan, Song Yuanchao's face turned pale, and sweat oozed out of his forehead. The album in his hand could not hold it and fell to the ground. He tried hard to take out the first aid medicine from his chest pocket, but after taking a few uncontrollable hands, he couldn't take it out.

With a muffled sound, Song Yuanchao fell to the ground with no power. At this time, the paralysis of his body had replaced the severe pain just now. His consciousness began to dissipate in a daze. When he finally fell into darkness, his eyes were on the album that was flipping on the ground. This was a photo of four people. There were two men and two women in the photo. Song Yuanchao was standing at the second to the right. On his right was a man about the same age as him, who was warmly putting his arm on his shoulder.

On his left are two young girls, one of whom is green with braids. The girl and her female companion with her short hair were holding hands and smiling greenly at the camera. Everyone in this photo was wearing very old blue-gray coarse cloth clothes, with her trousers curled up high, and her feet were covered with liberation shoes. She could vaguely see a newly harvested field on her back...

Song Yuanchao smiled, and soon his expression gradually solidified... At this time, a song came from somewhere.

“All the honors yesterday have become distant memories.

I have been working hard for half my life, and I have entered the storm again tonight.

I cannot follow the waves and give my loved ones to my love.

No matter how hard or difficult it is, you must be strong, just for those looking forward to your eyes.

If the heart is in the dream, there is true love between heaven and earth

It's just a heroic life to see success or failure.

All the honors yesterday have become distant memories.

I have been working hard for half my life, and I have entered the storm again tonight.

I cannot follow the waves and give my loved ones to my love.

No matter how hard or difficult it is, you must be strong, just for those looking forward to your eyes.

If the heart is in the dream, there is true love between heaven and earth

It’s just a heroic life that depends on success or failure….”

"Comrade! Hello! Comrade wake up!"

The rushing shouts continued to sound in Song Yuanchao's ears, and at the same time someone was pushing him hard. He opened his eyes hazy, and Song Yuanchao couldn't help but feel a little dazed.

"Hey! Comrade!" A man in a blue Zhongshan suit looked distant, and his tone was obviously impatience.

“Ah…oh….”

Song Yuanchao opened his mouth and let out two meaningless answers. After turning his slightly stiff head, he suddenly realized that he was actually sitting on the train chair. This was a familiar and unfamiliar old green train. The carriage was filled with the smell of smoke, sweat, wine, sour, fishy smell... various mixed smells.

Such old green-skinned cars were eliminated as early as the 21st century, and replaced by high-speed, clean high-speed trains and high-speed trains. Even if there are similar green-skinned trains on the remaining few lines, they are only similar on the outside and have been greatly updated inside.

"What's going on? This..." Song Yuanchao looked around in a daze, unable to react for a moment.

Didn’t you die? Died at home due to a sudden heart attack?

Why did he actually go on the train when he opened his eyes? And it was such an old green car? What happened to the people around him? They were wearing gray, blue, black, and patched clothes and pants that decades ago? What was the situation with all this?

"I said comrade, you have to sleep, wait until you get off the bus and find a place to go. It's all the time. How can you get out if you don't let me go?" Song Yuanchao tried hard to figure out what was going on now. The impatient voice of the man in Zhongshan dress rang again. At this time, Song Yuanchao came to his senses. It turned out that he was sitting near one end of the corridor, and he and a huge package blocked the narrow space leading to the corridor tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Song Yuanchao subconsciously apologized to the man in Mandarin, got up and took his luggage away from the passage.

"I'm going to meet the red man today... the country bazi!"

A man in Zhongshan dress stepped over Song Yuanchao with a dark face, holding a black artificial leather bag in his hand, and the two words "Huhai" in art style are printed on the lower right corner of the leather bag, and there is also a line of pinyin of the two words "Huhai" in the same art style.

The man in Zhongshan dress walked towards the car door and muttered a word about the Shanghai dialect. Song Yuanchao was stunned when he heard it and was about to refute, but he looked up and saw that the figure had disappeared from the car door.

More than ten minutes later, Song Yuanchao, carrying his luggage, stood blankly at the exit of Laobei Station.

Laobei Station, also known as Laohuhai Station, was built in 1950. Because it is located in the northern part of the Shanghai urban area, it is called North Station. In addition, it seems a bit dilapidated after its service life, so people in Shanghai also call it "Laobei Station".

In the late 1980s, after the new Shanghai-hai Railway Station was completed, Laobei Station was discontinued. The new railway station was also called the new station. Later, two railway stations were built in the southern suburbs and western suburbs. At this point, there were three major railway stations in Shanghai, namely the new station, the Nanjiao Station and the Xijiao Station.

The old North Station is not a place that I remember long ago. The small square outside the station is very lively, and the walls outside are painted with various era slogans. The old dragon buses that have long been eliminated come and go at the square station.

It took a long time before Song Yuanchao came to his senses. Now he is no longer an old man, but a twenty-four-year-old young man.

Today is February 14, 1979, which is Valentine's Day in the West. Of course, in this era, few Chinese people will know what Valentine's Day is.

The Spring Festival in 1979 is January 28. Today is only three days before the Lantern Festival. The streets of Shanghai still have the atmosphere of just passing the festival.

Song Yuanchao is from Huhai. He has been away from Huhai for eight years. Eight years ago, Song Yuanchao, who had just turned 16, went to the northwest to go to the countryside before he graduated from high school, and spent eight colds and heats on the Loess Plateau.

Originally, Song Yuanchao thought he would stay in the northwest for the rest of his life, but who would have thought that it would bring about a turning point last year?

In 1977, national policies changed, first of all, the college entrance examination was restored, but Song Yuanchao was unable to take the college entrance examination for some reasons.

On October 1, 1978, the country's policy on returning home for educated youth was officially introduced. A fierce wave of educated youth was launched across the country. Song Yuanchao was no exception. In order to get a place to return home, he and a few companions first went to the brigade to rush, and then walked dozens of miles of mountain road to the commune Revolutionary Committee. He relied on a few steamed buns to hold on there for several days, and finally got the certificate of return home with a big red seal.

Originally, Song Yuanchao could have returned to Shanghai before the Spring Festival, but because it was proved that the Spring Festival was approaching, several good educated youth decided to go together after discussing the Spring Festival.

After all, this time we go back, we don’t know when we will meet again next time.

On New Year's Eve, Song Yuanchao and these friends who had been sharing the joys and sorrows in the Yellow Land for many years were all drunk. Everyone, regardless of the men and women, hugged their heads and cried happily.

After the sixth day of the lunar month, everyone left this place where their youth had been buried, and set out on the journey back home without hesitation.

From the mountains to the commune, and from the commune to the place, I first walked, then took a ox cart, and then changed to tractors, cars, and trains... It took Song Yuanchao a full ten days and ten nights to finally set foot on the land of Shanghai again.

At this moment, Song Yuanchao burst into tears.

Song Yuanchao never expected that God could bring himself back to this era again, an era that made him worry about countless times in his dreams, and yearn for and miss him extremely.

Song Yuanchao's home is located in the northwest district of the city of Huhai. It takes two buses to get from Laobei Station to get home.

At this time, the buses are still charged at the stop distance, and the fuel bus charges are five cents, one cents, and five cents respectively. The bus charges for trolleybus are four cents, seven cents, one cents, and three cents respectively.

Originally, there was another type of bus in Shanghai, which was the oldest tram bus, which cost a cheaper fee, but now all tram buses have been replaced by new trolley buses with two braids.

According to some vague memories, Song Yuanchao took the bus first at Laobei Station and then changed to a trolleybus. It took him nine cents and nearly an hour and a half to get to the place.

After getting off the bus, Song Yuanchao looked at an alley not far from the station, and his home was in this alley.

When he left home, Song Yuanchao was still a big child, but now when he came back, he was already a vicissitudes of life.

Song Yuanchao's father Song Guangzeng was a Chinese teacher in the key middle school in the region, and his mother Wang Sufen was a worker in the first textile factory.

Before, such a dual-working family was enviable, but due to the times, Song Yuanchao's father was beaten from a respected teacher overnight, and he fell seriously into the endless exercise.

The second year after Song Yuan Dynasty went to the countryside, his father died of illness. His father's death made the weak mother unable to withstand this stimulation and she cried all day long. A year later, his mother also followed her father's death. When she learned of the news of her parents' death one after another, Song Yuanchao, who was in the northwest, knelt on the yellow soil with a letter in his hand, and cried heartbrokenly towards his hometown.

The memories that had become blurred and distant were suddenly so clear at this moment.
Chapter completed!