徐国荣像一卷竖着的破席被蜗牛似的班车吐了出来。他在尘烟中呆立了一个时辰,才感觉到自己落在地上了。他回到分别了十三年的昌明村。现在是黄昏时分,夏末秋初的太阳热量还没有减退,远处升腾着迷蒙的烟霭。昌明村依在岜盆山脚下,这个时候已经有些炊烟或浓或淡地在村子上空升起,远远望去,像一根根扭曲的麻绳。从下车的地方到村子里,还要走半个小时的路程。徐国荣记得,没 Xu Guorong like a roll of broken seat was snail-like bus spit it out. He stood in the dust for an hour before he felt himself falling to the ground. He returned to Changming Village, which was thirteen years old respectively. It is now dusk, the late summer and early autumn the sun’s heat has not diminished, rising in the distance misty mist. Changming village at the foot of the basin hill, this time has some smoke or thick or light in the sky over the village, from afar, like a twisted root twine. From the place to get off to the village, but also go half an hour away. Xu Guorong remember, no