11点30分,开饭时间到了。94岁的刘起釪坐在床沿上,这位已失聪的历史学家胸前挂着一块油污斑驳得泛黑的黄围裙,有一勺没一勺地从饭盆里舀面条吃。手是哆哆嗦嗦的,两条细麻杆儿一样枯瘦的腿,从一只高一只低的裤脚里露了出来。 At eleven thirty, the time for the meal is up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, the 94-year-old Liu Qiju, the delusional historian, wore a greasy yellow apron on his chest, scooping noodles with a spoon and spoonful. The hands were shivering, the thin legs of two fine linen rods emerging from a high, low leg.