撑一把油纸伞,踏开榕花的芳泽,伸手推开尘掩的木门,小心地托起一件古物,斑驳的器身像在低声呢喃千年前的故事——你,是历史的承载,如同沉默的老者,缓缓走来。我一直相信,你是有生命的。你从被创造的那天起,便随着命运的车轮向前滚动。你见过灯下安稳的盛世年华,见过嗜酒挥墨的逍遥 Hold an oil paper umbrella, embark on the fragrant Ficus flowers, hand open the dust covered wooden doors, carefully hold up an antiquity, mottled like whispering in the whisper of the millennium before the story - you, is the history of carrying , Like a silent old man, come slowly. I always believe that you are alive. From the day you were created, you scroll forward with the wheel of fortune. Have you ever seen a flourishing thriving lamp, have seen the fugitives Hui Mo ink