She paused, and I began to understand what was going on with the happy and unhappy, nervous and proud feeling in her.

A sense of restraint in front of a bookshelf for people who don't read.

Xiaotong does not have this kind of restraint, and his eyes fall on the book every minute when he is looking for a book here.

Xiaotong's mother, on the other hand, looked at the bookshelf, at me, and at a pot of cacti on the desk, window, and windowsill.

This reminds me of what Eco wrote - "Can't Get Rid of Books", some people love books and don't want to get rid of them no matter what, some people don't get close to books, books may be like cacti to them.

Compared with Xiaotong's freedom, his mother is not as comfortable as Xiaotong in front of the bookshelf.

"Now everyone reads e-books." I said with a smile.

Xiaotong's mother also laughed. She is the kind of woman who is down-and-out and generous, with long hair and a shawl, a lilac top and dark jeans, very generous and beautiful.

There was a smile in the corner of his eyes when he spoke, but he was slightly nervous, and on the whole, he really couldn't see that he had a son in the fourth grade of elementary school, probably because he was well maintained.

"Is this Li Bihua's "Rouge Buckle"?"

Her eyes suddenly flashed, as if she had found a treasure, and she breathed a little girlishly shy.

"Can I take it off?"

Hands with light purple nail polish lay restlessly in front of him, uneasy to take off a book, like a bird that occasionally perched on a clothespole on a human balcony.

"Of course, of course."

Xiaotong's mother is half a head taller than me, and she is 170 centimeters taller, so I suddenly guessed that this figure and temperament are not an artist? Models or something?

I stood on tiptoe to get the Rouge Buckle on the upper shelf, but fortunately there was still plenty of space on this shelf, and there was no huge pressure between the books that were difficult to take out because of the squeezing of each other.

If there are more and more books on the shelves, it becomes difficult to remove any of them when they are next to each other, and I can't explain the physics of this.

"Is this the one?"

I handed the book to Xiaotong's mother, who held it in her palm with her hands up.

This kind of piety is slightly exaggerated, and it has a bit more of an acting flavor. A cool June breeze came from behind me, through the half-hidden windows and white gauze curtains.

"Like a dream, like a phantom moon, if like a flower."

A woman's sigh, a cold June wind, at that moment, I only felt that the pores on my back tightened, I was really afraid that the person standing in front of me was the infatuated soul who had been waiting by the bridge for decades.

Something was wrong, why was there a cool breeze in June, when it hadn't rained, and the woman's sigh had a moist southern accent.

Douzi seemed to notice that I was lost, and at some point stood beside me and grabbed my weak arm.

I said "thank you" to myself, and it was clear that he couldn't hear me, but he pulled me to his side like a ghost.

"You're here to buy books!" Beans said.

The woman suddenly raised her head, her pointed chin trembled slightly, and she said apologetically: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just now I just remembered a sentence in this book, this book is what I read when I was in school, because I haven't read many novels, and I still remember this "Rouge Buckle" vividly. ”

I see! I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that I had fallen into some kind of imaginary confusion.

Perhaps it was the smell of these old books and the woman's temperament of not eating fireworks in the world that disturbed time and space in an instant.

In short, everything is back to normal, and the wind blowing outside the window also carries the enthusiasm of summer.

I waved my hand, "It's okay, it's okay, this "Rouge Buckle" is indeed an older version, you probably read the ones published in the 80s or 90s." In recent years, there have also been new editions, I have seen them in bookstores, and a new set of books with beautiful covers, "Green Snake", "Dumplings", "Farewell My Concubine", "Bridge of Life and Death", and this "Rouge Buckle". ”

Because of the movie, "Farewell My Concubine", "Green Snake", "Rouge Buckle" are still very popular, although not as popular as in the eighties and nineties, but Li Bihua's works still have her unique taste, with sour and even cold strokes, writing about the blossoming of love and the helplessness of poor couples.

The boundaries between humans and gods in her pen are clear and overlapping, writing about grievances and grievances, love and hatred in time and space, which makes people sigh.

The woman seemed to be so immersed in her own memory that she didn't hear what I was saying.

"Can I buy this book?" She spoke suddenly, startled and silent.

A wooden fan on the ceiling swayed, stirring the air in the room.

Although it is close to the height of summer, the fan in the house is still cool, and the back is slightly cool, and the cold sweat is dripping.

Bean's hand rested on my back at some point, and with a burst of warmth, I nodded, and returned to the real 212.

"Sell, of course, this is a second-hand bookstore." I was incoherent and reserved in front of my adult sister.

"I'll transfer it to you on WeChat."

Wechat? Well, very good, there was no WeChat in Hong Kong in the 80s, and when I heard these two words, I suddenly felt down-to-earth, and the non-true and non-false of the flowers bloomed as if it was written in the book - Kuo Shao woke up from a dream, and the sleeping pills were scattered to steal life.

——

"You just weird."

After the woman left, Douzi couldn't help but ask.

"Do you think it's weird too?" I sat back at my desk, feeling weak.

"What kind of story is 'Rouge Buckle'?"

"Douzi doesn't know the story of this "Rouge Buckle"?"

Douzi shook his head, "I have watched the movie "Farewell My Concubine", and "Rouge Buckle" only knows that it was played by Leslie Cheung, and the rest is not clear. ”

Also, Douzi and I are a little far away from the story of that era, it has happened when we were born, and Li Bihua has also finished writing about the obsession of flowers, and has finished writing about the changes in the world.

Floating like a dream, the sea is still the same.

Compared with the magnificent love between flowers and broad and young people in "Rouge Buckle" and the helplessness of poor couples mourning, I still remember the ordinary sister and brother-in-law in the book.

It belongs to the story of the flower that gave birth to a plot of these two people and their children watching movies and eating buffets on the weekend, and the writing is not less, and it seems that it has nothing to do with the main story, counting the daily life, the child's learning, the child's noise, firewood, rice, oil and salt, less luxurious romance and more budget-conscious days.

But a man is satisfied, and his satisfaction is immediate.

After watching the movie and eating the buffet, they went home and were very satisfied.

The children are fresh and vibrant, and the adults are at ease. They all spend their mental and painstaking efforts to dress up their children, so they ignore their own appearance and temperament, and no longer have to devote themselves to attraction and suspicion. Completely down to earth. Gradually, each has a belly. ”

At this point in daily life, the author turned his pen and wrote: There are many kinds of love. It's not the best one, but, it's one without a doubt.