阳光,飞溅。微风,轻拂。小巷的深处,一位老人和一个小女孩各自坐在竹椅上,老人正在给小女孩梳头。木梳轻轻划过乌黑的发丝,老人的口中浅浅吟唱:“朝花夕拾杯中酒,寂寞的人在风雨后。醉人的笑容你有没有?大雁飞过菊花插满头……”女孩拍起手,打着拍子。老人的嘴角微微翘起,形成完美的圆弧:“孩子,醉人的笑容,你有没有呢?” Sunshine, splashing. Breeze, flick. In the depths of the alley, an old man and a little girl sit on a bamboo chair, and the old man is combing the little girl. Mushu gently across the dark hair, the elderly shallow shallow singing: “North Korea spent the glass of wine, lonely people after the storm. Intoxicating smile you have? Geese fly over the chrysanthemum plug the head ... ... ”The girl clapped her hand and beat it. Elderly man’s mouth slightly tilted to form the perfect arc: “children, intoxicating smile, do you have it? ”