On the Copywriting Creation of Historical Ancient Villages

For a person who likes to walk, it is the most meaningful thing to salvage the glimmer of memory with words.

Lingxiao, also known as Zhongyan Mountain, is located at the junction of Neiqiu County and Xingtai County in Hebei Province. Surrounded by cliffs, there is only one path leading to the top of the mountain. Lingxiao Village on the mountain is said to be the location of the Yellow Scarf Army Village, the birthplace of Taiping Road and the base camp of the Yellow Scarf Army. At the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty, after the failure of the Yellow turban insurrectionary, Zhang Qian, the leader of the Black Mountain Army, kept fighting in Lingxiao Mountain for more than ten years, and set up four levels of Longmen, Hong Men, Shimen and Tumen in the periphery of the central village, which is now evidenced by the place names.

Longmen Village, as one of the portals of Lingxiao, belongs to Beixiaozhuang Township of Xingtai County and is the main village of Longmenchuan. There is a dragon-shaped mountain in the south of the village, which is cut off in the middle and the Baima River passes through it. Seen from a distance, it looks like the dragon gate, hence its name. The stone courtyard is connected with the deep lane, the stream bridge is connected with the hall, and the peaks turn around, showing the same picture in front of you.

I still clearly remember that when we went, the hollyhocks were in full bloom. I took off my high heels, makeup, loose clothes and plain face, and fell in love with the comfortable and simple walking brought by flat shoes. Suddenly, I appeared in the street of Longmen with some friends from the Writers Association. The old lady passing by was a little surprised, but she kept the necessary manners. She just looked at it curiously and didn't ask much. A tablet at the entrance of the village is engraved with the traditional Chinese character "Longmen", which gives us a sense of awe in both name and calligraphy.

Nowadays, many so-called ancient villages can't be called real ancient villages at all, except Longmen, old trees and old houses and old stone bridges, which exude a humid atmosphere of history, and the original ecological things look natural and true. Everything is still the countryside we remember, which is good enough. It is the "old" feeling we are looking for, which constitutes the impression of hometown, agriculture and land. Just like an old dress, it is so durable because there are time and stories hidden behind it. Wearing it on your body is so intimate that you don't feel separated at all.

Some people say that Longmen is the only place to understand the folk houses in southern Hebei. Most of the houses are bungalows, built on the mountain and made of bluestone, and some need to go through the hall to reach the courtyard. I don't want to know the ins and outs of these courtyards, but enjoy the tranquility of being in ancient times. Because of the limitation of land, the houses are very close, and the narrow alleys are deep and long. The weeds in the alley add a deep and quiet flavor, as if only a ray of sunshine could enter. A century in the alley, a century in the alley.

Most houses facing the street have corridors. Gallery, a beautiful word, has many practical functions, such as shading, rain protection and taking a nap. Those colonnades are still sticking to time. Longmen is one of the ancient plank roads leading to Shaanxi in history, and it is also the only way to Lingxiao. Merchants in the past, pilgrims praying for blessings, will pass by Longmen one day. They came, unloaded their burdens, sat down, drank some water, ate some dry food, and relieved the fatigue of the pommel horse under the porch. Talk about Jianghu and family. Their hearts must be grateful, and the Thanksgiving Gallery provides them with a place to live. Nowadays, there are many messy guys in the porch, some pottery pots are upside down, and several middle-aged women are gossiping. Dogs lie on their heels, and chickens feed not far away. Once prosperous, it has already melted in the moonlight like water.

I like Longmen as much as I like Huangdi Temple. They are Wuzhen and Zhouzhuang in the north, with small bridges running water and water in the south. There is a reservoir in the south of Longmen Village, and there is a Baima River in the village. The river blocked the traffic, and a strong and beautiful jade bridge came into being. The main building material of these bridges is the local "white marble", with exquisite arch rings, tight connection of flat strips and regular carving textures on the stones. On the bridge, the water god beast squinted and looked lost face. Perhaps only ferocity can win the war to suppress monsters. There are six railings on one side of the bridge, and there are sculptures of auspicious animals on each watchpost. Some of them sat still and some climbed down. Although their heads are damaged, it can be roughly seen. On one of the bridge railings, a big lotus flower is carved simply and shallowly, which reflects the leisure life of Longmen people.

The middle of the bridge is high and the sides are low. The bridge deck was paved with large pieces of bluestone. We walked on it, and we didn't know whose footsteps hurt. Those footprints, big and small, deep and shallow, have the time sequence of the sun and the moon, spring, summer, autumn and winter, as well as wind, frost, rain and snow. Many people walk up and down this bridge, from youth to middle age, from middle age to old age. Only the wind, in the dusk smoke, is waiting for a person to go home hand in hand. Suddenly remembered a water-like Shen Congwen. He said: "Between the green mountains and green waters, I want to hold your hand and cross this bridge. There are green leaves and red flowers on the bridge, and there are floating people on the bridge. " Perhaps, this kind of imagination can offset the depression and loneliness of Baima River today, forget the weeds and wild trees at the bottom of the river, and concentrate only on a few laundry girls, listening to the sound of wooden sticks, and the voice is high and low.

Stone mill used to be an important role in the village. How many cows and donkeys turn around on the road of the mill blindfolded, so those beans, dried sweet potatoes and corn turn into fine powder, and a layer of light dust is screened out in the dustpan. Now there are many stone mills in Longmen village, some of which are well preserved and left in the mill shed with dignity, and the afternoon sunshine climbs in from the small window to give it some comfort. Some have been abandoned, lying in the weeds at will, looking so lonely. Just like the old people who stick to the village, they need realm and perseverance.

One scene left a deep impression on me. An ordinary Shan Ye family, six steps in front of a * * *. Two wooden doors are closed, and I don't know what the owner did. There is a modified four elephants parked in front of the door, which is probably the most important means of transportation for this family. Fortunately, we are not here to visit relatives, thus avoiding the trouble of finding relatives. There is an old pagoda tree in the southwest corner, which has been around for hundreds of years. It is like a naughty old urchin, deliberately crooked, and its vigorous branches are stretched out obliquely. Branches and dense leaves are interlaced in the air, and the wind blows, rubbing the same sound as insects. Wet and deep.

There is a Shi Niu trough under the tree, and an iron pulley is installed next to a well. The well platform is wet and the well water is clear. We are all very interested, holding the handle of the pulley, pretending to fetch water and showing off our rural life. Unfortunately, imitation is imitation after all, and no one is like a real villager. In summer, it is a little fuzzy to sit on the ox-horse trough and embroider the insole. Clean and pure places make it easier for us to return to the truth and give birth to simple happiness.

The previous atmosphere has solidified here, and the streets and alleys remain the same. We have gone far, and the Longmen is still there, waiting for us to regain those warmth. There happened to be a bird flying in the sky, the branches of Sophora japonica swayed gently in the wind, and a sunflower blossomed in the corner. The friend said, "I wonder if the elves in your pen will live here?" I said, "Modern elves all live in reinforced concrete workplaces." Everyone laughed and understood each other.