相识八年多了,三千多个日子,如同一个熟得无需再说话的朋友,连郑重的道别都不用,拍拍肩膀就可以走了。而记忆,就像那道背影,永远模糊,也永远清晰。两个人站那儿像过完了一辈子2005年的夏天,某杂志的娱乐版提到黄磊和周迅,《橘子红了》最后一场戏拍完,两个人在影棚门口抽烟,周迅靠在门边上,黄磊后来说,“她站在我旁边,忽然我觉得像过完一辈子,两个人站那儿像过完了一辈子。” More than eight years of acquaintance, more than 3,000 days, as a familiar friend who no longer have to speak, even the solemn farewell do not have to pat the shoulder can go. And memory, just like that back, always vague, but also always clear. Two people stand there like a whole life in the summer of 2005, a magazine’s entertainment version mentioned Huang Lei and Zhou Xun, “orange red,” the last scene finished filming, two people smoking in the shed door, Zhou Xun rely on the door, Huang Lei later said, “She stood beside me, and suddenly I felt like I had lived through my whole life, and both stood there forever.”