I returned to my hometown after winning the koi lottery.

Sister Xiaoyu was very excited to take Xiaotao out for a walk. Her stomach was so full that she didn't want to move at all. She had to talk about other things to divert Sister Xiaoyu's attention.

My dear sister, was your hometown like ours when you were little? When I was little, my parents were busy and had no time to take care of me. They usually just threw me to the countryside during the summer vacation and left. Sister Xiaotao's strategic preparation piqued Sister Xiaoyu's interest in conversation.

It worked. When Xiaoyu heard this, she began to recall the good and bad times with great interest. It would take a long time for me to talk about my childhood.

Sister Xiaoyu was lost in memories of the past. My parents passed away in a car accident when I was in middle school. Sister Xiaotao's heart tightened. "How tragic!" she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to bring up your sad story."

Xiaoyu's eyes reddened. "It's nothing. It's been so many years. I've gotten over it long ago." Back then, it felt like the sky had fallen. Xiaoyu recalls the past, and she still can't forget it. My parents only have me. When I was little, I loved it most when my dad took me to the market. He'd carry me on his back, and Mom would follow behind. Whenever I saw a strange toy, I'd stop and ask if I wanted it. Xiaoyu choked up. She stopped talking and thought about the happy times.

Sister Xiaoyu didn't say anything, and Sister Xiaotao didn't dare to ask. After walking in silence for a while, Sister Xiaoyu asked, "I want to hear about the happy things you did when you were a child at your grandma's house. Tell me about them."

If you ask rural children what the happiest part of their childhood was, going to the movies would definitely be one of them. In those days of information isolation, rural people knew little about the outside world. If they could take the bus to the county town, they were considered to have been to a big city and seen the world.

In addition to the lack of information, economic resources were also relatively scarce, and the budget left for children's leisure and entertainment was basically zero. The entertainment methods back then were very simple and primitive. Boys played catching birds and fishing, hide-and-seek, and rolling hoops, while girls played picking up stones, hopscotch, and jumping rubber bands. These were basically games that did not require money.

But this kind of "entertainment" is very boring. If you can go to the movies, it is definitely an exciting and happy thing. For adults, they are also tired of the boring life of working from sunrise to sunset year after year. If they can watch an open-air movie and enjoy this "high-end entertainment" for free, they will definitely not miss it.

In the 1980s and 1990s, many rural villages didn't have televisions, and people had little to do at night except sleep. If a projection team came to the countryside to show a movie, the villagers would be happier than during Chinese New Year.

My grandmother's village is at the bridgehead of the highway east of town. Projectionists heading east from town to show movies have to pass through here. After crossing the bridge, there's a long, steep uphill climb. Because the road is not easy, projectionists on motorcycles have to ride slowly. Therefore, we often catch them here.

Movie projectionists typically traveled to the countryside on motorcycles, with racks strapped to the sides, carrying screens and projectors. To one side of one of the racks was a blue-gray tin box containing film reels, the film title scrawled on the side in red or white advertising marker. To the other side was a boxy black speaker, which would emit a brilliant sound tonight, the center of everyone's attention. Atop the rack was a small, dark green generator. Up close, you could smell the faint aroma of gasoline.

If you could meet such a person on the road in the afternoon, it would be like picking up money; everyone would ask the projectionist where the movie was being shown tonight. Once the projectionist told you where the movie was being shown, the news would spread like wildfire to all the villages and towns along the way.

When Xiao Taojie was little, she lived with her grandmother. I remember it was a hot evening, the sun still far above the western hills, the sky still white. People were busy weeding the rice paddies for the second time. While herding cattle by the river, Xiao Taojie and her cousin spotted from afar two wooden poles erected on the riverbank of Xiahe Village on the other side of the river. Atop them stretched a black-rimmed, white movie screen, resembling a mosquito net.

My cousin seemed to have discovered a new world and quickly pulled his cow back. The cow was probably not very full, and it tilted its head and panted reluctantly as he pulled it behind him. When he saw people working in the fields along the way, he shouted: "Why are you so slow? Go back and cook. There is a movie on the other side of the river tonight in Xiahe Village." Someone responded and asked if the two children were talking nonsense. My cousin got anxious: "Whoever wants to lie is a cuckold. It's right on the riverbank in Xiahe Village, and the screen is pulled up! If you don't believe me, go and see!" Someone jumped onto the ridge of the field, ran barefoot to the river, and quickly ran back: "The waiter didn't lie, there really is a movie!"

After the news was confirmed, people came ashore one after another, carrying their shoes and going home to cook. If you don't do this job, you won't run away. You can hurry up and do it tomorrow, but if you miss this movie, you don't know when you will be able to see it again!

Good things are about to begin. My cousin eats dinner so fast that he can’t even taste the food. He even feels like he won’t feel hungry if he doesn’t eat. It’s just like when he went on a date with his girlfriend during his first love.

Although Xiahe Village and Shanghe Village are not far apart, separated by a river, getting there still requires taking the only bridge east of the village to the center of town, then walking two miles north. When the residents of Shanghe Village, carrying their families and benches, arrived at the riverbank in Xiahe Village, the screen was already packed with audiences, a cacophony of noise: early arrivals gathered to chat, later arrivals searched for seats, children chased and played under the screen, and young wives nursed their babies to sleep.

The advantageous spots had already been taken by those who arrived first, leaving those who arrived later to squeeze into the sides and the back rows. The front row was usually populated by children, who sat directly on the beach, not blocking the view of those behind them and saving the trouble of carrying stools back and forth. However, after a movie, my neck was sore from straining back. The seats in the middle were occupied by chairs and benches. Some people would recline a chair and share it, one sitting on the leg and the other on the top. By the end of the movie, my butt was sore from sitting.

The most efficient seating was the bench, which could squeeze in four or five people. Those further back stood, and those arriving late could also use their stools, placing them at the back and standing on them to avoid obstructing their view. For those desperate for space, some sat behind the screen. The subtitles were reversed and the colors were a bit muted, but the experience was essentially the same. Fortunately, back then, films rarely had subtitles for their dialogue. As darkness fell, the projector beamed its first bright beam onto the screen, and the speakers blared the impassioned opening music, a scene that always got the children's blood boiling. The movie began, and the bustling riverbank suddenly quieted down.