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张爱玲的文字有一种阴郁的冷香,总感觉是下着雨的黄昏。我读她,得屏息,生怕一不小心,就掉入她设下的幽深陷阱。
Eileen Chang's text has a gloomy cold, the total feeling is the rainy evening. I read her, get breath, for fear of accidentally, she fell into the deep trap set by her.