那是1995年春节前夕,我去镇政府报到,看到的第一个人就是办公室里的老向。老向四十来岁,一身洗得发白的旧军装,裤腿上沾着斑斑点点的泥水,一只裤脚向上卷起。他正在为一对新人办结婚证,一口怪怪的外地口音,大声地告诉那对新人在结婚登记表上签字、按手印。他对我还算和气,办完事后就带着我去见分管领导。春节后,我正式上班。领导把老向叫到办公室,让他与我交接工作。老向阴沉着脸,不作声,看得出他很不情愿。 That was on the eve of the Spring Festival in 1995. When I went to the town government to report it, the first person I saw was the old man in the office. Old forty years old, a white washed old uniform, trousers stained with specks of muddy water, a trouser rolled up. He is a marriage certificate for a couple, a strange field accent, loudly told the couple to sign the marriage registration form, according to fingerprints. He was kind to me, and afterwards, took me to see the leader in charge. After the Spring Festival, I officially go to work. The leader called the old to the office and let him work with me. Old to gloomy face, silent, can see he is reluctant.