将近四十年前,不上课的下午,有个穿灯心绒外套的小女孩从弄堂里19号3楼探出窗口,奋力扔下一个用橡皮筋扎住的长方形报纸包。捡起报纸包打开,是一本烂到封面封底和前后数页已然不存的书。它膨胀着,显得比实际书页更厚,朝中间凹陷下去形成了一条浅沟的书脊,斑驳着依稀能认出“林海雪原”四个字。拿着这 Nearly forty years ago, in the afternoon without class, a little girl wearing a corduroy jumped out the window on the 3rd floor of Building No. 19 in Alley, struggling to drop a rectangular newspaper bag with rubber bands. Pick up the newspaper package opened, is a rotten to the cover of the front cover and the pages before and after the book has not survived. It is inflated, appears thicker than the actual pages, down towards the middle of the formation of a shallow ditch spine, mottled vaguely recognize “Lin Xue Xue Yuan ” four words. Hold this