推开那扇斑驳得几近破败的木门,尹姗再一次置身于这熟悉的小院。还是那间低矮的屋子,只不过和奶奶一样,已经是风烛残年了。屋前的那一个栀子花圃里,凋零的栀子花也已腐烂得差不多了。那些残存的花瓣,柔软的身子被泥土染成了焦黄色,谁也难以想象得出它们曾经到底怎样洁白过。湿 Pushing away the wooden door that was mottled and almost destroyed, Yin Hao was once again in this familiar courtyard. Or the low house, just like grandma, it is already a bad year. In the garden of a gardenia in front of the house, the decaying gardenia has already rotted. The remaining petal, soft body dyed with mud and yellow, it is difficult to imagine how they have ever been white. wet