连下的几场大雪将整个水灵镇堵得水泄不通,村里的老人与小孩都围在火炉旁,一刻也不敢离开。卖柴火的木星朗,怀里揣着一堆在野外拾回来的干柴火,他抬起头,红肿的嘴微张,眼睛里眨起泪光,他用沙哑的声音叫着:“卖柴火了,卖柴火了……”即便是这样,也没有一个人出来买。长长的大街,死寂一般沉重。“命数啊!”一位大爷,双手抱胸,隔着透明的玻璃窗户,叹了一口长长的气。一阵寒风刮过,木星朗蹲在雪地里,双手哈气。 Even the next few heavy snow will clog the entire Shui Ling, the village’s elderly and children are surrounded by fire, a moment did not dare to leave. Jupiter, who sold firewood, had a bunch of dried firewood picked up in the field in his arms. He looked up, his mouth swollen and his eyes winking. He cried in a husky voice: “Sell firewood , Sell firewood ... ... ”Even so, no one came out to buy. Long streets, dead silence is generally heavy. “Life ah! ” An uncle, his arms hugging his chest, across the transparent glass windows, sighed a long breath. A burst of cold wind, Jupiter Long squatting in the snow, hands Kazakhstan gas.