Yes, it's summer.

I woke up in the middle of the night with gastroenteritis, which must come every summer, with stomach cramps like someone wringing around in my stomach. Trying to lie down in a different position, the pain shows no sign of getting better. I couldn't wait in the bedroom with the door closed. I turned to see my husband sleeping soundly, so I curled up on the sofa in the living room alone.

the living room has a window, but it's not cool. It's past 2: 00 in the morning when I take a look at my watch. Think of one summer night in Xiamen University, after lights out, it was still very hot, we sat around the dormitory chatting. Students who live by the sea talk about the summer vacation in their hometown: after dark, we all enjoy the cool outdoors, waiting for the coolest moment in the middle of the night to come. "everyone goes to Rest." Ten years later, I still remember the precise wording of what she said.

in that summer vacation, the plane landed in Changchun in the middle of the night. As soon as the airport was about to be abandoned (soon it was abandoned), we were told to walk to the exit ourselves. The current ground temperature in Changchun is 16 °. I clasped my arms and almost fought with my teeth and suspected that I had mistakenly boarded a flight that crossed into the winter vacation. After graduation, I was destined to work in Anhui for some time, carrying a huge bamboo bed to the middle of the yard on hot night-Huizhou buildings often have a large courtyard. There is no cell phone signal and few TV channels, which seems to be isolated from the rest of the world. I lay on the bamboo bed, looking at mountains and streams to the left and green bricks and white tiles to the right. The wind passed and blew again and again, and there was not a single mosquito.

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up to now, in such hot and undignified weather, I always think of this sentence-"everyone went to Rest". There was a common longing for everyone to look at their hometown one night, with a tacit little despair-there was no choice but to wait until that time came, and the first cool wind blew in the middle of the night. Since despair, once arrived, it will be happy, Rest has also become a carnival.

of course, the city is no cooler than the countryside, but the heat in the city is not desperate, and there are too many ways to resist the heat. There are electric fans, air conditioners, central air conditioners at home, private cars, taxis, subways, and buses equipped with air conditioners at home. Even if you walk, you just have to transfer to a bank, restaurant, shopping mall, and get some cool.

not desperate because of predictable changes. It is not beautiful because it is not desperate.

it doesn't matter whether you are beautiful or not. I have never loved rural life, and I am about to start decorating. When I pick a picture, I see what pastoral style the rural style has to pass off. I like living in the city, and I hope there are decent cinemas, bookstores, and universities in this city. There are delicious restaurants, good plays, and favorite singers to hold concerts. There are street parks, dutiful park properties, well-developed transportation, and communications, and all e-commerce and logistics are within reach. Idiots can pick up their mobile phones and use apps to call takeout and domestic service at any time. As long as they like, they can fly directly to any place in the world. I hope everyone in the city where I live is well educated. They are industrious, brave, and gentle, be the best colleagues in the writing room during the day, and come back to the community after work to support civilized families. I hope I live here. I never have to worry about someone's poor sense of boundaries, always inquire about personal privacy, or have a good chat and suddenly grab your arm and persuade you to eat any health products. No one will think that they are your neighbors, relatives, classmates, or any other status, so they can come uninvited and suddenly ring the doorbell on your sofa and cry about your misfortune.

pastoral life indeed has its beauty, but farm music cannot be lived as if it were a day. I also admire the power of seeds, but only to plant succulent plants in the office. The convenience of life can reduce the waste of life. I don't like a waste.

when I was seven or eight years old, I had an appendicitis operation, and I woke up with two heads. Ask the mother in front of the hospital bed: "where is my father?" She said your father rode his bike home to get something to eat. It wasn't summer, it was a snowy winter. I was suddenly worried about my father's safety and said vaguely, "Don't worry about my father coming back." I'm fine. He rides his bike slowly. It snows. Be safe. Don't worry. "the road is slippery" and closed his eyes again. My parents always remember this and often mention it, which proves that I have known it since I was a child. However, I know that my family lived on the outskirts of the city at that time, and even if it was a sunny day, it was hard work to ride a bike to and from the hospital to and from home. I began to go to school by bike from the third grade of primary school to the graduation of junior high school. I lost count of how many times I fell every winter. One summer, the speed of a bicycle is too fast, two sets of handlebars are stuck together, how much skin I lost in my hand. Or there are countless dangerous situations such as the front wheel being pinned by a broken bar, which leads to a sudden overturn and the pressure of the bike on me. I know that many people love the place where they lived, but I never went back to the place where I lived for so many years after my grandfather and grandmother died one after another.

I still love the city, and I will always love it, scoffing when people talk about the reinforced concrete jungle. During the years in the south, it often rained in summer. I was held on a crowded bus. It was dark and my destination was still out of reach. I didn't know what the other people on the bus were thinking. I looked at the rows of tall buildings outside the window and the lights in the windows of the high-rise buildings. I thought: when can I have a house and a home of my own in this city?.

since childhood, eating is so spicy and cold that it often causes gastroenteritis in summer. I was impressed twice when my mother accompanied me. As soon as the stomach cramps came, my stomach and I suddenly curled up together, and my mother took me in her arms and rubbed my stomach. It's always early in the morning, and her hands are not warm. My stomach stopped for a while, and I could close my eyes a little. I was bleary-eyed to see my mother sitting on the opposite chair, leaning her head with one hand and falling asleep. She is a nurse, so no matter who is sick in the family, she is very dependent on her, and so am I. I'd like to say it's much better. Go back to bed. I just can't say it on the tip of my tongue. I want her by my side, as long as I can see her, you can feel better.

the city I was in that month was not so developed as it is now, at least there is no 24-hour medicine delivery service. So my father had to get out of bed in the middle of the night, walk on the dark road, and go to the drugstore to buy me some medicine. I was sorry, but I had no choice but to curl up in the corner of the bed or sofa with an apologetic look, like an aggrieved mushroom.

I became more and more sleepy in my stomach cramps. I finally made peace with stomach cramps and fell asleep. It was 4:30 in the morning when I opened my eyes and looked at my watch. It was summer when it was light so early.