Cultural Lane at the end of May

In Kunming at the end of May, the rainwater soaked all the corners of the city, putting on a refreshing and cheerful coat for this city called Spring City, but it has been dry for almost half a year. As soon as the temperature dropped to 14 degrees, many locals were caught off guard. They wrapped their thick coats tightly, frowned and exclaimed, "Frozen to death in Kunming's summer!". However, this ray of freshness and smoothness seemed like a pleasant greeting to me, who had just arrived at the plateau from the sultry Beijing of 34 degrees.

Under the coolness of the swirling light rain, I returned to my parents' house from the airport and had a chat with the two elders for dinner. Thinking of the last time we were with you, it was when the epidemic broke out at the beginning of the year. At that time, the family’s turmoil seemed like yesterday’s experience, but now everything is fleeting. After a few months of hustle and bustle, we are all used to it. time indifference. Sitting around the dining table, I ate the food my mother made while asking my father if there was any shortage of antihypertensive drugs. Replaying Li Keqiang's government work report, the three of us commented on the embarrassment and absurdity of those serious matters.

After dinner, the night began to rise, and the rain stopped just at this time. I didn't want to bury a lot of time in a leisurely and boring sofa, so I went to Wenhua Lane by myself - known as the most literary landmark in Kunming - an old street in Kunming behind a green lake. There are several old colleges and universities with a sense of historical deposition scattered around the alley. There are many famous scholars and scholars who are famous for one side, Cai E of the Yunnan Army School of Martial Arts, and Wen Yi, who opposed the dictatorship of the Kuomintang and was shot to death. Many, Hua Luogeng, who lives here and has nowhere to live, and so on. This is the former rear of the academic circles of the Republic of China government during the anti-Japanese period. When Jiang Zhongzheng was sitting in Chongqing, the capital, he left Kunming, which is also in the southwest corner, to the famous philosophers. In order to avoid the war of the Japanese army, they fled all the way south and west. So far, together with the students, we have opened up the wasteland and established the Southwest United University, which is well-known in the world. The cultural accumulation of the small town in the southwest has become more legendary and unique since then.

Today, these small streets and alleys scattered around the Green Lake, under the background of the seamless business and economic era, can not escape the fate of being free, but they can still vaguely find the imprints left by the years here. Rusty and mottled telephone poles, trees lining the streets, repainted bungalows, and narrow alleys less than two lanes. There are not many pedestrians lingering here. Under the dim street lights, young couples walking arm in arm are snickering, girls holding tea in their hands chatting, father and daughter holding dachshunds for a leisurely walk, the road The punk boy on the side has long been immersed in his own RAP time and space. Some stores on the street are not open for business, and those that are open do not have too many customers. I guess it may be the reason for the aftermath of the epidemic, or it may be the reason that it is getting late, but it is so cold and quiet. , but makes the whole street, slightly exudes a more pleasant and charming atmosphere.

Passing through the gate of a courtyard, there were bursts of electronic bass music from inside. With the dim light of the street lamps and the rhythm of the music, I turned into the courtyard. It turned out that there was an underground bookstore hidden here, and the vaguely blurred musical notes popped out of it. I bowed my head and leaned into the underground passage connecting the bookstore. The walls of the passage were covered with various promotional posters, like a Lennon Wall in Hong Kong. A salon event is being held in the bookstore, and there are many young people crowded in front of the bar. They are holding wine glasses and laughing together in twos and threes. Suddenly, my curiosity exploded, and I overheard a few words. Several of them were saying that the "white left" protesting in the United States was just showing off, while others were talking about whether a certain barbecue restaurant had reopened.

In the other half of the bookstore, there are several rows of bookshelves scattered. Compared with the lively scene in front of the bar, which is crowded with young people, this corner is almost an empty and lonely scene that no one cares about, as if it has become a storefront. The furnishings are general. Half noisy, half cold, this scene in the bookstore really made me feel a little abrupt. There is no shortage of decent petty bourgeoisie literary and artistic tunes here, but it seems that I can't find the literary and ink food genes that the bookstore should contain. It does not match the look of the bookstore in my impression. But it may also be that I am too pedantic and picky. Since I can't understand the difficult dilemma of independent bookstore operators these days, I shouldn't stand up and talk without backache Qiao Zhang Zuozhi. After all, even the Eslite Dunnan store is too late. The store is closed, no matter how much you take it for granted and inconspicuous, it can only be boring self-righteousness.

With the idea of not wanting to miss any good books, I still carefully paced the bookshelves, looking for a book that I might like. It is gratifying to say that, at a glance, I really found several books of local chronicles with great geographical color. Because I did not grow up in Kunming since I was a child, and my parents moved to Kunming in recent years, I developed a special desire to discover the past and present of this city, and the books on the bookshelf detail the old Kunming style The old-fashioned picture books are just right for my appetite at this time. I picked up a copy of "Kunming Night in the Qing Dynasty," and looked at every old photo in it. With my limited and trivial impression of Kunming, I compared the time and space gap between black and white images and the current square inch.

Before I knew it, I had stopped to flip through the book for more than an hour, the electronic music salon had ended, but the young people were still joking and chatting. It seemed that the rain started to fly again, only to realize that I forgot to bring my umbrella, so I had already returned to the south. Every time I come to this city, although I don’t stay for a few days, I always encounter some unpleasant frowns. After thinking about it, it seems that I haven’t been in the rain for a long time, so I quickly put down the book in my hand and took advantage of the rain. The next big, drilled back to the ground again. There was no one in the streets and alleys, so I finally found a shared bicycle, turned on my mobile phone, scanned the code to unlock it, and rushed into the breeze and drizzle of Old Spring City.