intersection

 　　The word "crossroads" carries a profound meaning. Every time I think of it, it makes me ponder it deeply, wanting to express it fully. Closing my eyes and reflecting, it becomes a painting, a poem. Beyond its literal meaning, it seems to contain the connotations of parting, hesitation, and choice.

　　"Outside the Great Wall, along the ancient road, fragrant grasses stretch to the horizon." On the vast land, near willows and distant mountains, the grass stretches as far as the eye can see. At the crossroads, friends shake hands and bid farewell, their words filled with deep emotion. For some reason, I think of Li Shutong's poem "Farewell," and such a scene of parting unfolds before my eyes, imbued with a timeless charm.

　　The scene of parting is often set at a crossroads. "At the crossroads, we part, children and parents alike weep," parting inevitably brings heartache; the taste of farewell is always bitter, even if brief. I remember when my daughter was little, she loved to follow me around. Every time I took her out in her stroller, she would tug at my clothes, refusing to let me go. No amount of coaxing worked; she would drag me all the way to the crossroads. Once there, knowing her efforts were about to fail, she would let go, waving her little hand with tears in her eyes. Once, she was very determined, seemingly resolute in not letting me go. Just as I put one foot on the pedal to get on the bike, she suddenly grabbed my leg, her foot hitting the bicycle wheel, which happened to touch her ankle scar, causing it to bleed profusely. Later, when my daughter went away to study, I saw her off at the crossroads, reluctant to part, but she casually waved goodbye, indicating I should go back. Such is often the way of life; thinking about it now, I can't help but chuckle to myself.

　　Lin Wenyue went to visit her elderly mentor, Tai Jingnong. Tai Jingnong escorted her to the entrance and watched her drive away. When the car reached an intersection, the light turned red. In that moment, Lin Wenyue thought of her mentor and couldn't help but shed tears. If it weren't for that intersection, if it weren't for that red light, so many subtle emotions would have been swallowed up by the hurried pace.

　　In the past, seeing off relatives and friends usually involved seeing them off at the gate or along the path in front of the gate all the way to the intersection. The guest, feeling bad, would repeatedly say, "Please stay, please stay," and the host would always smile and say, "It's nothing, just seeing you off, let's chat a bit more," and so on until the main intersection. Even after a thousand miles, parting is inevitable; the guest's figure gradually disappears from the host's sight, only the willow branches swaying in the wind at the intersection. Unlike now, a phone call to a friend arranges a small gathering at a hotel at a specific time. Once the banquet is over, everyone rushes into their cars, a wisp of smoke drifting into the world, busy without knowing what they're busy with, or perhaps busy in the name of being busy, because everyone is busy.

　　The crossroads, this image is aesthetically pleasing, often accompanied by green willows nearby and silent mountains in the distance, with clear streams always nearby. But once you step onto the real crossroads, your heart is filled with uncertainty. This crossroads is not only real, but also seems to be a metaphysical crossroads of life. At this moment, the crossroads has transformed from a place to bid farewell to friends into a turning point in life, a question that requires deep thought.

　　"Walking at the crossroads of life," is a common saying, implying that one must make a choice. Choosing a direction at a crossroads in life is unlike choosing a road at a real crossroads; if you go wrong, you can turn back. The path of life is paved by time, and there is no turning back. Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" seems to express the helplessness of life's choices. Undoubtedly, choices at life's crossroads must be made carefully. In fact, life is full of choices at every moment. As long as the general direction is correct, there is no need to be overly concerned with gains and losses, as gains and losses are always relative.

　　Shen Congwen reluctantly abandoned literature for the study of cultural relics, eventually becoming an expert in the field. His choice of life path was a classic case of losing one thing and gaining another. Choosing the wrong direction in life can lead to irreparable regret. Take Zhou Zuoren, for example. When universities in Beiping moved south, he chose to stay. He may have thought he had enough willpower to resist external temptations, but as it turned out, he overestimated himself. His act of collaborating with the enemy cemented his reputation as a traitor. Corrupt officials, while in office, probably didn't initially aim for greed, but when faced with temptation, they were blinded by self-interest, leaving an indelible stain on their lives. Of

　　course, ordinary people, in their ordinary lives, face choices at life's crossroads primarily focused on how to live well. Their goals are clear, but the world is complex, thus filled with the myriad aspects of human nature. As the saying goes, sometimes things work out by accident; sometimes things don't bloom even when you try, and sometimes things thrive unintentionally. All these things add a legendary quality to life, making it interesting and dramatic. Life is indeed like a play.

　　In a sense, a crossroads is also a grand stage of life.