我从小便讨厌去爷爷家。爷爷家的古院中有常青的松柏,有摇曳的竹藤,有清脆的鸟叫。但,那古老的屋子中总有一股难闻的药味,微风一起,药味四溢,空气中弥漫着那种使人讨厌的气味。爷爷总是在药炉前细细地文药,不急,不燥。沉浸在药味中的脸上刻满了岁月的大手留下的痕迹,而深深的皱 I hate to go to grandfather’s house from childhood. There are evergreen pines and cypresses in the grandfather’s house, with swaying bamboo and rattan, and crisp birds. However, there was always an unpleasant smell in the old house. The breeze was together, and the smell of medicine was overflowing. The air was filled with an unpleasant smell. Grandpa is always careful in writing drugs in front of the drug, not hurry, not dry. The face immersed in the medicinal smell is engraved with the traces left by the hands of the years, and the deep wrinkles