(一)独坐于书桌前,捧一本《红楼梦》,整齐的文字行列间漫出墨香,疏密有致,砌出古典文学史上一颗璀璨的明珠。手握红色水笔,我的目光始终未离开过书页,圈点批画,努力将字塞进缝隙里。笔尖时起时落,眉头或聚或舒,嘴角勾了又放,心,也跟随精致却又行云流水的笔墨在大观园内流连徘徊,体味闺中爱恨,世间情仇。秒针不疾不徐地跃动着,分针也已划过整 (A) sitting alone in front of the desk, holding a “Dream of Red Mansions,” neat rows of characters out of the Mexican incense, sparsely populated, creating a bright pearl in the history of classical literature. Holding a red pen, my eyes never left the page. I tried my best to write the words in the gaps. Nibs from the time off, brow or poly or Shu, the mouth tick and put, the heart, but also follow the delicate but flowing brush hanging around the Grand View Garden, appreciate the hate love, hate world love. Second hand hurriedly jerked, minute hand has been crossed the whole