Clapping hands and laughing in the autumn wind

     Mid-September. A month that wearies both body and mind. Yet, my mood was quite different from these realities. Though tired, I felt happy and joyful. It turns out, living is about this state of mind. A good mood makes everything good.

    Clapping my hands and laughing at the autumn wind, my thoughts were soothed. After sending my child to school early in the morning, I headed to Yingkou. I recalled my childhood; my great-grandparents' home was in Yingkou. Back then, whenever we said we were going to Yingkou, we never said "going to Yingkou," but rather "going down to Yingkou, to Shanghai." It makes sense, really. Because Yingkou is geographically low-lying, while Shanghai is higher than our area. Therefore, we got used to saying "going down to Yingkou."

    My mood was indescribable along the way. For another reason I can't quite explain. Passing through a place I'll remember for the rest of my life, my heart began to ache. A relationship that lasted so many years ended just like that. Ended in reality. And that person who once held such a deep place in my heart, is he doing well now? Whether he is doing well or not, it doesn't matter anymore. The past is long gone; all that remains is sadness and melancholy. If only, if only, if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only

    ... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... if only... Alas... I put away my light sorrow, closed my eyes, and let my memories flow freely. My heart

    , like a stream, drifts aimlessly, without direction. Where will it end? After finishing my business in Yingkou, I waited for the bus to return. While waiting, I saw Liaohe Park not far away. I studied in Yingkou in 1991, staying there for four years. Now, more than ten years have passed, truly like flowing water, making one sigh deeply. The banks and shallows of the Liaohe River, once devoid of any facilities, are now the beautiful Liaohe Park. Suddenly, I allowed myself to stroll there, as if visiting an old friend.

    The Liaohe River stretched endlessly, the sea breeze blew, seagulls hovered low on the water's surface, and turbid waves crashed one after another, making my heart restless. I feel a strange, unspoken connection. Yesterday, the lyrics to my award-winning song were titled "The Liao River Stirs Up a Thousand Waves," and today I'm standing on the banks of the Liao River. It's truly a divine arrangement!

    The waves come in waves from afar, not earth-shattering, but still a moving spectacle. They pass by me, continuing their relentless flow into the unknown. Is that the destiny of the waves? Just like me, walking on the unknown journey of life, uncertain about the future.

    The Liao River is the mouth of the Bohai Sea. You could call it a sea, or you could call it a river. But the Liao River is a microcosm of the complexities of nature. It lacks the arrogance and hubris of the ocean, possessing instead a layer of composure and rationality. Perhaps this is the true beauty of the Liao River? Last year, I read anecdotes in some casual reading, saying that the Liao River is the father river of the Chinese nation, while the Yellow River is the mother river of China. This statement surprised me greatly at the time. Whether it's true or not isn't important; what matters is the Liao River's origins and its divine essence!

    If the sea is boundless and vast, then the Liao River gives one a sense of real attachment, not something ethereal. Although the Liao River stretches endlessly, with no visible beginning or end, it does have width. Strolling leisurely along its banks, one can see the other side of the Liao River. There, a desolate meadow stretches out, and in September, the eastern bank of the Liao River is covered with lush, verdant reeds. One can't help but think of that ancient poem from the Book of Songs: "The reeds are green, the dew is white as frost. The one I long for is on the other side of the water..." Who is that one?

    Speaking of the Liao River, during my four years living in Yingkou, I often came here to play. Even though back then there was nothing but the river, it still accompanied me through four years of happy times. Now, when the Liao River appears before me in a different, more reserved way, I almost dare not recognize it. Like a girl who has grown up, it has become more and more beautiful. Truly, "A scholar should be looked at with new eyes after three days' absence." At this moment, my hand caresses the white jade railing on the riverbank, and the old, natural riverbank appears before my eyes. How has it transformed so dramatically, so graceful and captivating? A beauty as beautiful as a poem or a painting!

    I watch a lone seagull circling above the river, while I stroll slowly along the Liao River bank. The waves of my heart, like the waves of the Liao River, rise and fall endlessly.

    Few boats pass through this section of the river. Small boats and yachts do exist. But I am alone, on that yacht, though smaller than me, yet still too large, what can I say to the autumn wind? Perhaps it's better to sink into silence? Perhaps it's better to remain silent. The small boat seems to understand my loneliness, watching over me, without the leisure to brave the wind and waves. Yet, within my heart, there is a pent-up desire.

    The weariness of many days, the accumulated emotions that cannot be contained, have gathered into dark clouds, churning as if a storm is about to break out in my heart. I shake off my worries, and find that the gloom begins to lighten and dissipate. The sea breeze is strong and refreshing. My heart is utterly cold. The warmth of just moments ago has vanished without a trace on this desolate bank of the Liao River.

    Time continues, but I grow thin with emptiness. And what remains, besides memories?

    The wind grows stronger, the chill bringing me clarity. The dizziness lessens. As seabirds swoop low, Gao Shengmei's song "Where Seagulls Fly, Colorful Clouds Fly" echoes in my ears, and my heart is intoxicated. In this mortal world, the hardships and toil endured are perhaps worthwhile compared to what I have gained! My heart smiles.

    Strolling along, I leave the banks of the Liao River and head to Liao River Park. I check the time; it's already noon. So many people are idle, while I am the busy one. Whenever those men and women, young and old, stroll past me, I always secretly observe them, envying them. When will I be as carefree as they are? Perhaps it will never be in this lifetime. This half-day of leisure I forced myself to enjoy was only possible against the backdrop of work, survival, and hobbies. How hard-won it was!

    I took a bus to the train station, but then changed my mind and switched to a car. Although I get carsick on trains, I couldn't stand the slow wait and the agony; I'd rather suffer a little and get home quickly.

    The route of the first ring road brought back memories. The Eighth Bureau was where I registered for my self-study exams. The old doors and windows, somewhat out of place in the new city of Yingkou, though covered with new facades, still showed their age, allowing my heart to find an old anchor in this rapidly changing city. The Liaoning Grand Theatre reminded me of watching the most touching movie there, "Only Mother is Good in the World."

    Memories that seemed so easily gone were brought back to life by my forced effort. Life is a continuous experience, a continuous performance, until it becomes the past. And me? I clap my hands and laugh at the autumn wind. Even with a bumpy resume, they refuse to let life lose its color.