The questioner was even more strange, for the old man was standing in front of his unknown mansion. But when people pointed it out to the old man, he was indifferent: "it's a house, not a home." I think I often move around, maybe subconsciously, looking for the feeling of my own home. Home, home, what is home in the end? In Mr. Bing Xin's prose, I read an article, which said that she, who is almost a century old, always goes back to her childhood home in the wandering dream. Only then can we understand that the umbilical cord of childhood is connected with the root of our life. Whether it's a great man or an ordinary person, or even a bad person, the impression of his childhood home may be the last habitat of his remaining human nature. The concept of home has nothing to do with the rich and the poor, nothing to do with the house. It only has something to do with the memory and feeling of your life. People are reluctant to leave home, but they have to leave home. Just used to have their own home, and moved to move to move out of feelings. All of a sudden, he was cut off by the sword of fate. The feeling of home left me again. I was silent. Some of people's feelings can only belong to themselves. It's hard for people to communicate with each other, so people need a home or a place called a house to defend themselves and place themselves. Different cultures may have different choices about life. The ancient Chinese tradition of sticking to the countryside and the one-off tradition, like blood, remains in our body and mind, allowing people to run a family for a lifetime.