Jinsong Community—The largest residential area in Beijing, runs through the second and third rings of the southeast section, the entire main street is luxuriously built, the high-rise buildings on both sides stand up, and there are French-style lacquer chairs on the sidewalk. The European-style flower pond and the ancient paulownia shaped fence, all the buildings are painted with colors, or elegant rich gray, sapphire blue, or gorgeous orange yellow, brick red, looks vibrant, like seven dwarfs Forest castle.
In the community at night, the lights are bright, the fountains on the street will spit out various water columns with music, and the ground is lined with rows of glass lampshades, which will shine a bright light to the sky Covered with art lighthouses, the dim and fascinating apricot-yellow halo reveals from the hollow holes on the lamppost, which is already a kingdom in fairy tales.
My family lives in a tower on Beijing’s only Olympic demonstration street.
Looking at such a beautiful community, who would have thought that it was the largest chaotic grave in Nancheng twenty years ago. From ghosts to people live here, a war between people and ghosts has been fighting openly. Because of this, many anecdotes in this modern and prosperous community are always talked about by people.
c1();
In 1997, I was 20 years old. I went to school every day during the day and worked part-time as a luthier in the lobby of a hotel in the evening. The double pressure of work and study plus no days off, I was overdrawn and extremely weak.
The cold wind in Beijing at the end of October was biting, and it was already 10:30 after playing the last piano song. Today I obviously felt that I was in poor condition, dizzy, and cold ‘S fingers are very stiff on the keyboard, and even a few notes are played incorrectly. Although the guests can’t hear them, I can feel the dissatisfaction of the violinist around me.
Packing the score and covering the piano, I hurried to the station and embarked on the last bus. Looking through the car window, there were few pedestrians on the street, and the waste paper and broken plastic bags that were occasionally blown up by the cold wind on the ground were swirling under the faint halo of street lights and rolling forward.
The bus terminal is located at the entrance of the community, not far from my home. Wrapped tightly, the wind blew my body. My family lives in the middle of three identical towers built from the street. The open space in the buildings is still very large. There is a small garden between each building, and there are many parking spaces. car. It’s a pity that there are no lights in the buildings, and the street lights on the street are covered by the front towers, so the darker I go, the more timid I am, and I am worried every time I go home late at night. Yes, I am afraid I will jump out of the individual.
In front of me is the tower of my house. Everyone may have fallen asleep at this night. The 16-story building is dark, and only occasionally a light shines through a window. There should be people watching TV. I raised my head,