I asked to recite poems, which I heard on the radio. One of them repeated "My motherland, when you were …".

The so-called Iraqis are on the water side.

Go back and follow it, it's a long way,

Swim back from it, in the middle of the water

-"The Book of Songs Qin Feng"

Climbing up the ancient city wall and stroking the mossy columns and beams, when I lean against the railing and look into the distance excitedly, there will always be a trace of acidity in my throat, and I will always hear a voice saying loudly: Remember? Your ancestor's name is Yanhuang.

Someone told me that a big fish once lived in that part of Beijing. It became a giant bird, soaring between heaven and earth. The wings of giant birds hang in the sky like clouds. Although ten thousand flies into the sky. The sages have given us a heart that can contain the sky and shaped a vast and magnificent hall for us.

At that time, there was a strange young man named Ji Kang. Before his execution, he played a unique tune, with a wide robe and ribbon fluttering in the wind. He faced death with the most elegant gesture. Thousands of years later, there are still echoes, but he doesn't know that what is really cut is not the music score, but his pride and even his clothes.

I also dream of going back to the Tang Dynasty and traveling around the world with a poet named Li Bai. He drank wine with the cold light on his sword, and his lover was the moon in the sky. I have seen him wandering under the moon, singing and singing. The long wind blew away his hair band, and his robe was as elegant as a fairy.

But then the emperor changed, and a glass of wine took the literati and abandoned the military commander. His descendants finally hid in paradise on earth and handed over a large area of land. But in the cold north, there are troops on the battlefield, and the enemy says we can't beat Yue Jiajun. Unfortunately, heroes are taboo, people are arrogant, and a ray of loyal soul finally dissipates near the West Lake, so the spirit of a nation is irreversibly extinct. However, in the bloody sunset, I vaguely saw someone insert it into the soil, which was used by the general, an unyielding tassel gun.

The wheel of time turned round and round, and finally lost its way in Shen Jia. So on the banks of Slender West Lake and Meihualing, an ancestral temple was built to commemorate this tragedy. The weak scholar named Shi Kefa didn't want to spread his high bun, let alone take off the clothes left by his ancestors, so he decided to save * * * with the city, lost his life and protected his faith. Cruel killings and mountains of bones can't bury the national spirit. Some people believe that it will still shine on China after thousands of years.

Today, thousands of years later, I am sitting in the lobby of McDonald's. I am wearing Gucci fashion. I sang a random song myheartwillgoon, but my heart broke inexplicably, because I heard a voice saying loudly: Have you forgotten? Your ancestor's name is Yanhuang.

I remember that a group of brown-haired and blue-eyed jackals, with strong boats and guns, demolished our temples and destroyed our halls. One hundred years later, we know democracy and freedom, but we don't know morality. We have musical prodigies, but we don't know how to recruit palace merchants. We can build tall buildings, but we can't accommodate a public morality archway. We wear suits and ties, but we have no clothes.

Where is the land of etiquette? Where is it, my China boy?

Why do you call me a pervert when I wear the most beautiful clothes? Why do I say that my precious Hanfu belongs to Fusang? Why do you always take my sincere confession as a joke? Why can't my tears touch your heart of stone at all?

Where is the place of faith? Where is it, my China boy?

I don't want to be heartbroken, I don't want the wisdom of my ancestors to be admired, and I don't want my Hanfu to be promoted by the Japanese. So I have always had a wish that one day, we can pick up our own culture and prop up the backbone of the nation.

Remember, remember, there was an era called the Han and Tang Dynasties, there was a river called the Yangtze River, there was a pair of totems called dragons and phoenixes, and there was a feather dress called Nishang!