The small town of Bansh in southern Belgium seems like an everlasting carnival destination. From first entering this land in 2007 to revisiting it this year, the Bansh Carnival, with its unique charm, is not only deeply imprinted in the memory of journalists, but also showcases the tenacious vitality and infinite possibilities of intangible cultural heritage in modern society. In the early morning, there was still a thin dew on the cobblestone road, and the chimneys of Bansh Town had already raised wisps of green smoke. Standing on the square in front of the city hall, the distant drum beats gradually turned from sparse to dense. The fragrance of wheat straw from the first visit eighteen years ago seems to still linger on the reporter's nose, but now the formation of "silly people" walking in the morning glow has added many young faces - their wax masks still have the luster of emerald, and the rhythm of wooden shoes hitting the ground still resonates with the heartbeat. The famous feature of the Bansh Carnival is its unique "silly people", transliterated as "Jile". 'Jile' originally referred to the silly character in the theater troupe in French, but in Bansh, the word has long since shed its derogatory meaning and become the embodiment of auspiciousness and happiness. The unique costumes and dance steps make the parade formation composed of "silly people" the absolute soul of the carnival. In 2007, a journalist walked into the home of a middle-aged telecommunications engineer named Bisu and witnessed his transformation into a "fool": wearing traditional clothing weighing up to 9 kilograms, including a straw filled earth colored robe, a copper bell belt, a wax mask, and ostrich feathers, the rules of which have been passed down from generation to generation. After dressing up properly, Bisu and his companions began to visit from door to door. The bustle and festivity were similar to the New Year greeting custom of Chinese Spring Festival. At that time, Banshi was still drowsy in the morning mist, and only the sound of drums was like a spell to awaken the sleeping ancient city. The "fools" were like night watchmen holding lanterns, and from a distance, they seemed to have gathered scattered starlight into a galaxy. Time flies, and once again in Bansh, the atmosphere of the carnival remains lively. At four o'clock in the morning, with champagne and a rainbow, the copper bell needs to ring nine times to be considered auspicious. At three o'clock in the afternoon, the orange rain was still the climax of the carnival. This year's wicker basket has added a few exotic colors: a blonde girl throws oranges to her grandmother in a wheelchair, and an immigrant child wearing a headscarf wraps their clothes around the incoming good fortune. When the orange arc passes over the Gothic mountain wall, the flying fruits resemble the chromosomes of civilization, nurturing new life through collision and fusion. Compared to eighteen years ago, the current Bansh Carnival places more emphasis on integrating with modern life. More young people appeared in the parade. They were dressed fashionably, with youthful smiles on their faces, dancing and cheering with the 'fools'. These young people are not only participants in the carnival, but also inheritors. They inject new vitality into this ancient cultural heritage in their own way, making it shine even brighter in modern society. Micha Lauwo is a native of Bansh and has been participating in carnivals with his elders since childhood. Now, she actively engages in it with her children, passing on this tradition from generation to generation. In her eyes, carnival is not only a festival, but also a cultural heritage flowing in her blood. Tom Kaleck from a nearby town and Edith Rebit, who had just settled in Bansh for a year, were also deeply attracted by the unique charm of the carnival. They said they hope to better inherit and develop this traditional culture through their own efforts. As dusk fell, Bansh began to take off his revelry colored clothes. The small town of over 30000 people returned to tranquility after the carnival, only the orange juice flowing on the pillars of the city hall, like amber in the river of civilization. For the past eighteen years, Bansh seems to be telling the mystery of the inheritance of intangible cultural heritage: when tradition is no longer a specimen in a glass case, but a living creature that can be playful and reconstructed, civilization will find a continuous path forward in the blood of the younger generation, and intangible cultural heritage can also continue to shine with new brilliance in the new era. (New Society)