Shen Congwen & The Border Town

Encountering "The Border Town" in the Rain On an early summer day in June, we drove to the renowned Border Town, drawn by its fame. Our first glimpse of this scenery came on a misty, rain-drenched morning. The drizzle blurred the water's surface, reflecting the unique architecture on the opposite shore. The words "Border Town" seemed to carry the tenderness and melancholy of Shen Congwen's prose, emerging slowly from the passage of time. The distant mountains loomed faintly through the mist, like unfinished verses between heaven and earth—hazy yet profound. The light rain drifted through the sky, as if recounting the stories that once unfolded here, distant yet vivid. The scattered trees added vitality to the scene without disturbing its tranquility. Standing by the water, I listened to the raindrops pattering on my umbrella, the breeze brushing my cheeks, and my thoughts wandered far away. This "Border Town" is not just a physical place but a symbol of literature and memory, embodying a longing for a simple, beautiful world. In the mist and drizzle, it quietly narrates tales of time, captivating the soul. At this very moment, the "Border Town" tightly embraces the distant, profound stories with the tender, romantic present—never parting, never abandoning—continuing to weave and pass down the legends of this little town...