初秋的雨在中国美术馆的回廊外淅淅沥沥下着。潮湿的水汽也让大厅里那悬着的墨色多了一些烟雨的萦思,如富春江外那浩渺的波澜,雨中的晴色。展览的最后一天,依然络绎地来人,依然热络地寒暄。“晓君啊,字儿真好。”前辈轻拍着他的肩头,他也熟络地笑着。这几日他每天坐在这里,一只眼已 Early autumn rain in the gallery of China’s art gallery lined with. Humid water vapor also let the hall that there is more ink hanging over the yin and yang, such as the magnificent waves outside the Fuchun River, the clear colors of the rain. The last day of the exhibition, still flock to come, still warm greeting. “Xiaojun ah, the word is very good.” "Seniors patted him on the shoulder, he is also a familiar laugh. He has been sitting here every day for a few days now