那是一个初春的夜晚，我斜依在床上，刚刚读完张爱玲的小说，一缕清冷的月光映照着对面墙上悬挂的应天齐先生的版画。不知为什么，每当我将目光停留在画上的时候，心里总掠过一丝淡淡的忧伤……也许是张爱玲小说，也许是画中朦朦的月色，也许是突兀在夜色中的老屋，使我总... It was an early spring night, and I was inclined in bed, just reading Eileen Chang’s novel, and a ray of cold moonlight shone on the opposite wall hanging Mr. Ying Tianqi’s prints. I do not know why, whenever I stay eyes on the painting, my heart always swept a hint of sadness ... maybe Eileen Chang’s novel may be painted in the hazy moon, perhaps abruptly in the night in the old house, Make me always ...