Wuxiang 10 is Wang Qiyao Hutong. Spanish-style carved mahogany chairs, old-fashioned electric fans produced by Ge, and the lazy "four seasons" from the phonograph are all gone years. What is left here is the length of right and wrong in the woman's mouth in that narrow aisle. The peeling dust is the old look on their faces, falling year after year. Ashes are their faded clothes, layer after layer. The women who spent countless afternoons in this old house are the epitome of this old house and the melody of Khiesz Lovsky's film Blue, which dragged people into the bottom of life. She looked out through the drooping old window, and the door of time slammed behind her.
No.43 French Concession is Zhang Ailing's Edinburgh apartment. I can still imagine Zhang Ailing, dressed in a Chinese robe, standing on the overgrown balcony in Edinburgh, watching the colorful party in Harbin Garden, watching the blockade, watching the servants carrying baskets to buy food, and seeing enough wild eyes, she turned around and chatted with her aunt for a while. This woman, who was talking about music, dancing and painting in the old house, stepped lightly across the wooden stairs and said softly, Oh, there you are.
Here, people who have spent most of their lives in old houses, or people who have just started to live, have a humble life like your neighbors, but they must have a proper and stable life. They may have to catch the nearest bus from nine to five every day. They have a son who is about to grow up. He has been frustrated and regretted in his career, betrayed and betrayed by the other party emotionally, and sometimes he feels lonely and asks where people come from. ...
Li stood on the dilapidated fence and looked at the street. Only the broken moonlight shook on the gaudy floor, and tears rained down on the curtains until dawn. Grasping the railing tightly, sighing and hating, he chose to linger in this imprisoned old house, or to be a walking corpse, or to die in this irreversible dry Kun. ...
If fate is given by heaven, then the fate of these women is doomed by the old house.
Wilde said that all depressed French people go to old houses after they die. Are you a melancholy person?
I stood in the south building, sighing for the geese.