夜静了。那一声叫卖在寂静的夜晚显得那样凄凉。每到这个时间,那一声叫卖便从远方飘来,显得那样苍老,却每次都能将我从周公的身边拉回,我烦透了这叫卖声。今夜又是如此,“卖馄饨嘞,卖馄饨嘞……”我皱着眉,从睡梦中清醒,好不容易睡着,又被这该死的叫卖声惊醒。我气呼呼地冲到窗户边,本想冲着那个人大喊,让他别再出来叫卖了,这会儿人都睡了,能赚多少钱,但当我看到那孤寂的苍老的背影,又 Quiet night. That sold out on the silent night seemed so desolate. Every time this time, that cry from the distant place, it seems so old, but every time I can pull back from the side of the Zhou Gong, I am tired of this is called the selling sound. Tonight again, “selling wontons 嘞, selling wonton 嘞 ... ...” I frowned, awake from sleep, finally fell asleep, awakened by the damn barking sound. I angrily rushed to the window, wanted to shout at the man, let him not to be out selling, and now people are asleep, can earn much money, but when I saw the lonely old back, and