A Journey on a Mountain Road

My VIP subscription for Netease Cloud Music has expired for a long time, and I haven’t renewed it. I used to listen to music on my way to and from work, but now I commute with Yingying, so there’s no need to listen to music on the way.

During work, I usually listen to songs that are not available on various platforms (such as Wanqing’s “Mountain Sparrow” and Liang Bo’s “Statement”). I used YouTube Music for a while, but I found it to be not very convenient.

Now I use “Soda Music” the most, but the selection of songs is a bit limited, although the recommended quality is still good.

Today, while working, I opened the long-forgotten Spotify and listened to my favorite songs, such as “A Journey on a Mountain Road,” which reminded me of the autumn of 2017. Just like this year’s autumn, it is the autumn that I love.

I still remember clearly that it was in August 2017 when I had just returned from England a few months ago and my relationship with my mentor was a bit tense. So during the short summer vacation, I went to Chongqing again.

At that time, I stayed at Zhang Ergou and Xiuyu’s house (knowing Zhang Ergou is another interesting story related to my drug dealing), and Zhang Ergou recommended “Sorrow of My Youth” to me, so I started listening to Mao Buyi’s songs.

I hardly watch variety shows, and if I do, it’s mostly foreign ones. The only domestic show I ever watched was “Extreme Challenge” before the cast change.

But because of Mao Buyi, I watched “Tomorrow’s Star” and I liked many songs in it. “A Journey on a Mountain Road” is my favorite song from that show.

It appeared on the couch in the Chunxi Road Hostel where I had slept, it appeared in the audience seats at the Kevin International Speech Competition (played on a computer that was debugging bugs), it also appeared on the balcony couch during a lonely Chinese New Year, and in the iron cable boat team at the Wild Duck Lake…

It appeared in many places. This year, I want it to appear in the mountains and forests of autumn, on a motorcycle with two people by the lake, in parks permeated with the mature smell of plants in every autumn.

The lyrics of this song make it hard for me not to think of a passage I wrote many years ago on a late night at 03:41, hoping that I can always feel the beauty and tranquility of life like this:

The sound of chickens in the thatched cottages under the moon. The frost on the bridge with traces of people. It reminds me of the winters of my childhood, when it was still dark in the morning, and I would get up, eat, and listen to the chicken crow and the dogs bark in the courtyard. There was moonlight, and when I went out, the door would creak. I didn’t wear gloves, so my hands would turn red from the cold. Then I would blow hot air onto my hands, alternating between riding my bike with my hands, occasionally covering my ears. Perhaps it was a morning without riding a bike, walking step by step on the path, frost on the wheat seedlings, the moon reflected on the intertwined branches of poplar trees. I wore a fuzzy hat and stepped on hand-made shoes, feeling that the road was so long.