Thetwodaysgraduallyturnedcold,andwinterinchangchunbegantoshowitsbitterface.Strangetosay,Ihavebeenhereformorethantwoyears,andwheneverthecoldofwintercomes,itisthenextrain.Thenthetemperatureplummets,therainturnstoice,andtheroadbecomesextremelydifficulttowalk,andthenextsnowcoversitintwodays.Thisistheopeningofthenorthernwinter.Oneday,theafternoonsleep,theroomnoiseandthealarmclockhavenotdisturbedmydream,naturewakesup,alreadyisnotmorethanenough.Outsidethewindowthesettingsun,aquietinside.Thesoundoftheleaves,thenoiseoftheleavesandthesoundofsnoringintheroom.Thememoryundetected,returnedtothewinterofthehometown...Inthemorningofwinter,whenthesunishigh,asnowfallsquietlyinpeople&39;ssleep.Allthingshaveaspirit,notonly"goodrainknowstime",thissnowwantstobealsoextremelyclever,nothowcanthistimecomedowntotheearth?SoIgotupandwentoutintotheyardtoenjoythecreationofthewintersnowscene.Butinthedistancethehighmountainswerecoveredwithsnow,andthesunshonedown,andtheeyesofsilverintheeyes,withsomeoftheashinthetrees.Thesnowinthevicinityofthecornwasalreadyalittlethick,anditlookedalittlethickandvaried,andtherewasevenadesolatebackoftheearth.Afewbundlesofyellowcornstalkslookawkwardandareheldtogether.Thenhesawsomesparrowssearchingthegroundforfood.Itwasprobablysomelazybirds,whohadnotbeenabletogetsomefoodforthewinterbefore,andwhichfoodwasthereforhimtofind?Soonthefruitsawitanxious,helpless,thelastcanonlywailing,listeningtounavoidablypity.Whatifitcan&39;tgetsomelifeinthewinter?Therewasnotafootprintonthesnow,onlyarowofpawprints,afewscatteredpawprints,andthecatandthebirdgotupearly.Thesunwaswarmafterdinnerintheafternoon.Themenofthedoorwaysbegantosearchfortheirpleasures,andtheparentswereafterthemeal.Istayedinthehouseforalongtime,feelingbored,andsteppedonthesnowtogotothevillagetojoinaparty,toseetheoldmantoplaythegoldmedal.IhaveseenthiscardsinceIwasachild,andIhaveseenitformorethanadecade.Suchalongtimetoseealsoisnotinteresting,andthenaisuniswarmandwarm,reallymakeapersonsleepy,thenagainleisurelyreturnhome,climbupahotkangtosleep.Ilikethewintermother&39;shotkang,whichisoneofthereasonsIlikewinter.Sleeponsuchahotbed,sleepsoundly,sleepwell,anddreamoften,dreamingofdusk.WhenIwokeup,Isawthecatlyingonthelowkang&39;shead,andIcouldonlywatchquietlyandlisten,butIdidn&39;tdaretobother.Itwasmorediligentthanme,catchingmiceatnight,gettingupearlyinthedaytomake"morningclass",anotherclassintheevening,anotherlessonintheevening,andthreelessonsadaywithoutdelay.However,itwasnotenoughtoresistthetemptationofthekang,andhesleptinthebed,buthesleptmorethanIdid.IfIsometimesforgetitsexistence,andwhenIenterthebed,Iwillnotbecarefultodisturbitssweetdreams,andIwillbevexed,andyawned,andsetouttocompetewithme.ItsawthatIdidnotpayanyattentiontoit,andwasevenmoreirritated,butitalsoknewthatIhadnotbeenabletobullyme,sothatIhadtoresignmyselftomymother&39;scomfort.Hismotherwasbusycooking,andshehadnotimeforit,orshehadtocomforther.Fatherwasdrinkingonthehearth,andbeckoninghimashesawit.Hejerkedhisassandhurriedtohimwithhistailup,andheranaway,smellingofwine.ItwasbecausemybrotherandIhaddrunkitonce,anditwasknownthatthewinewassostrongthatitsmelledofwineandwasafraid.Atthispoint,ithasnoplaceinthehouse,soit&39;sgone.WhenIlookedoutofthewindow,Isawtworowsoffootprints,buttheywerenowheretobefound.Howeveruntillunch,mymothercalledmetherice,andIsawitcircledaroundhermotherinthekitchen,meowmeowinpettishevencry,themotherreallycan&39;tanswerit,giveitsomefoodtomakeitatfirst,itisverylikethiskindoffeeling,beforepeopletoeatwithjoy,regardlessofother.We&39;llhavetohaveaquietsupper,too.Thewinterisquiet,thefarmworkisverylittle,thehouselifeisjustafeweasytrivia,thereisnotlackofapersontoenjoy,thisisanotherreasonthatIlikewinter.However,Iamnowinadifferentcountry.Iamverydifferentfrommyhometown.AlthoughIhaveawintercharm,Iamnotabletomakeittothewinterofmyhometown.
