他有微博,在那里写写平常的日子,偶尔也写家庭生活片断。他点击那个网址,素净的微博页面里,1关注,0粉丝,只有15篇微博,持续四天时间。她关注了他,但他不知道,就算知道了,他也不知道她是谁。晚饭之后,他要上一会儿网。输入密码,他打开电子信箱,删那些杂七杂八的广告团购信息,他的眼睛在一个信件上停留了半秒,然后点了删除,他回头看了书架,茨威格的那本书安静地竖在那里。 He has a microblogging, where write the usual days, and occasionally write pieces of family life. He clicks on the web site, plain microblogging page, a concern, 0 fans, only 15 microblogging, for four days. She followed him, but he did not know, and if he did, he did not know who she was. After dinner, he will take a while to network. Enter the password, he opened the e-mail, delete those omnibus advertising information, his eyes in a letter for half a second, and then click delete, he looked back at the bookshelf, Zweig’s book quietly erected There.