A few of us were traveling through the town, riding at high speed, leaving behind our parents-in-law who kept shaking their heads and sighing. Young people don’t know what it’s like to be sad. They do

A few of us were traveling through the town, riding at high speed, leaving behind our parents-in-law who kept shaking their heads and sighing. Young people don’t know what it’s like to be sad. They don’t care whether the wind in the lake is cool or not. Later, I went to teach in the mountains, and my bicycle still accompanied me every day. The mountain path in the morning is so quiet, covered with gauze as thin as cicada wings, as misty as a dream. I was wearing white jeans, riding a bike with one hand, listening to the mountain breeze whistling past me, and the mysterious breath rippling in the forest. Sometimes, I park my bicycle on the side of the road, quietly fold my hands, and watch the quiet mountains change rapidly in the sun. The ferns on the roadside sigh softly and tightly in the tunnel of time. It turns out that the loneliest feelings are sometimes the most soul-crushing ones.

The male protagonist in the movie "Sweet Honey" is Li Ming. He rides a bicycle with Maggie Cheung, who plays the heroine. Maggie Cheung smiles secretly while gently sitting in the back seat and shaking her feet. Happiness is as sticky as honey, and it overflows, turning into breath and sublimating into the entire air. "Longing for a smile, looking forward to a gust of spring breeze, you will just pass by." After that, the two had to break up because of life, and each went towards his own future. At the end of the film, the two of them passed each other in a huge crowd. A kind of innate sadness, in a sudden glance, what is engraved in my heart is the memory of riding a bicycle. Xue Xiaochan said that maybe a lot of love is a time in itself. Sometimes love is just chewing sweet memories lightly after thousands of turns.

When we are in love, he likes to ride his bicycle and chase after me. If I ride fast, he will ride fast; if I ride slower, he will ride slowly, talking to me at every turn. After half a year, I stopped riding. He was riding a bicycle alone, with me sitting behind him, who was always smiling, and we walked around the town. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face tightly against his back. His body temperature on my face conveyed the happiness of that time. Happiness is airtight. It hides in our hearts, jumps out bit by bit, and blooms into a mountain of peach blossoms.

After we got married, we left the town and moved to another small town, while our young son stayed in our hometown. In order to save money, my husband and I rode bicycles from the small town back to our hometown every weekend. The two of us talked and laughed during the seventy or eighty miles without feeling tired. When encountering an uphill road, he would put a hand on my car's axle and pull me up the hill. When going downhill, he let go of his hands, the wind swelled up his clothes, and he called my name loudly like a child. I followed him in fear. The wind was full and warm on my face.

We live in a small town and no longer need bicycles. The bike was left in our warehouse. The shiny car body was stained with dust and stained with rust. The past is like the wind, blowing low, like the sound of a bicycle bell, blowing far away. There is one of the most touching lines in Bai Juyi's "Pipa Play": Late at night, I suddenly dreamed about my youth, and my dream was full of tears and my makeup was red. Maybe, only late at night would I dream about those teenage things unintentionally.

It was night, and I dreamed that I was riding a worn-out bicycle alone in a small town. A little girl was chasing me on the bicycle with a smile, and then more and more people came, and the wind blew us away. My hair was as warm as yesterday's wind, and then, like fireworks, the wind cooled down inch by inch.