Some people say that missing a city often starts from a single street. And the Xinyong Old Street in Fuchuan conceals the warmest old times. It is like a yellowed old book, with each page filled with stories. It is also like a pot of warm aged wine, with every sip holding the mellow aroma of time.

The fire in the stove illumines the sky and the earth, red stars are scattered, and purple smoke is rising. Master Huang's blacksmithing shop has been in operation for over forty years. Now, the job of blacksmithing has been handed over to his son. "Nowadays, some people think of changing their things before they break down."

Not far away, the uncle's barber shop seems like a stopover of time. With the creaking of the wooden chair, the hair at his temples falls out in pieces, and the story is hidden among the teeth of the comb.

The barbecued pork noodle shops along the street are the most comforting. The crackling sound of the wood-burning stoves and the aroma wafting towards you, a bowl of steaming barbecued pork noodles is the most ordinary and lively atmosphere of this old street.

This crunchy bite turns the dawn and dusk of the old street into a lingering taste on the tip of the tongue. Homesickness always stirs the heartstrings unexpectedly. People in Fuchuan just love this kind of rice noodles. They are the most craving for them.

Look, time has tied a knot on this old street. Some sounds and some scents will never be forgotten.

If you also have memories of Xin Yonglao Street, please write down your story in the comment section. Or, find some spare time and take a walk in the old street again. Listen to the wind passing through the alleys and watch the light slanting up the brick walls. You will find that in some places, no matter how far you go, you can never leave your heart.