孟秋的时候,远远的小巷子深处就有燃烧纸钱的味道飘散出来了。那味道带着黄表纸独有的干燥的木香,也许还混了一点酒味,在傍晚热风的卷裹下,在金红色天空的映衬下,穿街走巷,飘到一处小院里来了。中元节到了。于是祖母就开始念叨起来了,族内本家的老一辈频频通起了电话。打了铜钱图样,洒了黑红的鸡血的黄表纸;印了红花绿叶,黑底上压了蓝边,小小巧巧可以托在掌心里 Meng Qiu time, far from the smell of burning paper money flooded out of the alley. That taste with a unique yellow tablecloth of dry woody, and perhaps mixed with a little bit of wine, wrapped in the hot air in the evening, against the background of gold and red sky, walking through the streets, drifting to a small courtyard It’s coming. Zhongyuan Festival arrived. So my grandmother began to talk about it, the elder generation of the family frequent calls. Playing a pattern of coins, sprinkled with black and red chicken blood yellow paper; printed saffron, black pressure on the edge of the blue, small and clever can care in the palm