她对着镜子散开了头发。两个属于姑娘的丫髻,一左一右,乖巧地耸在耳朵上方,可是日子久了,再乖巧也觉得呆板,即使她非常用心地在每个发髻边缘盘了细细的一圈麻花辫,也觉得自己怎么看怎么像只蛾子。她知道自己的头发很美,浓密,漆黑,像房檐上的冰凌突然就融化了,拢在手上厚实的一捧。从小,嫂子在帮她梳头的时候都会看似淡淡地说:“发丝硬,命也硬,嫁不到好人家。”她也听得出 She broke her hair in the mirror. Two girls belonging to the Ya-han, left and right, cleverly towering above the ears, but over time, and then well-behaved also feel stiff, even if she was very careful in the edge of each bun a thin circle of plait , Also feel how to see how like a moth. She knew her hair was beautiful, thick, dark, like the eaves of the ice suddenly melted, thick hand in hand together. From an early age, sister in law to help her hair when it will seem faintly said: “Hair hard, life is hard, marry good people. ” She could hear