埋葬在心里的,才是真正的隐痛。ONE黄香菜市场在凌晨四点左右就会变得人声鼎沸。老的少的,男的女的,肩膀擦着肩膀,脚尖踩着脚跟,一股脑地涌进四处漏风充满咸腥味的批发市场。买家扯着嗓子跟卖家砍价,卖家掂量着手里的货物,吆喝着新鲜味正无农药。霍刚穿着老旧的军大衣,混迹在来来往往的菜贩子中间,他按了按脑袋上的棉帽子,更深地隐藏起塞在耳 Buried in the heart, is the real pain. ONE yellow coriander market will be crowded around four in the morning. Older, male and female, shoulders rub shoulders, toes stepping on his heels, brain waves pouring around the salty air filled with salty wholesale market. Buyers thrashing at the bargain with the seller, the seller weighs the hands of the goods, shouting fresh taste is no pesticides. Huo Gang was wearing an old army coat, a mixture of food vendors who came and went in the middle. He pressed a cotton hat on his head to hide more deeply in the ears