那天晚上,春吉老头握着他父亲留下来的那杆猎枪,走在忽明忽暗的林间小路上。泥土湿润而富有弹性,一阵山风吹过,路两边的柳杉和木桫椤就发出沙沙的轻响。几只昆虫在灌木丛里低吟,感觉到春吉老头走近,它们就赶紧停歇,四下里变得一片死寂。春吉老头在溪流拐弯的地方停了下来。月光下,清浅的灵溪水面上飘浮着薄薄的雾气,望上去宛若仙境。春吉老头隐蔽在一棵柳杉树后面。万簌俱寂中,柳杉散发出一阵似有若无的香味。似乎过了很长一段时间,一只野猪 That night, Chunji old man took the shotgun left by his father and walked in the faint forest road. The soil is moist and flexible, while a mountain breeze blowing, the road on both sides of the cedar and wood 桫 发 made rustling light ring. Few insects whispered in the shrubs, feeling Chunji approached, they hurriedly pause, all of a sudden become dead. Chunji old man stopped in the corner of the stream stopped. Under the moonlight, the shallow stream of Lingxi floating in a thin mist, looking like a fairyland. Chunji old man hidden behind a cedar tree. Million in silence, Cryptomeria emit a burst of flavorless flavor. It seems that for a long time, a wild boar