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1985年,初春。一个四十多岁的壮年汉子迈着稳重的步子,来到聊城市东郊陡骇河西岸的一家工厂门口。锈迹斑斑的铁栅门紧锁着,他用力推开旁侧那扇挂着的小门。映入眼帘的是破砖烂石和满院没人深的蒿草,一群麻雀扑棱棱飞起,打破了这厂内的宁静。看门老人揉着睡眼,连连打着哈欠。“喂,你找谁呀?”“就来找它。”来人风趣地指了指这个荒芜的院子。“啊,啊,听说要来位厂长,莫非您就是?”来人并不否认,微笑着点了点头。
In 1985, early spring. A forties man in her 40s marched steadily to the gate of a factory on the west bank of the steep Haihe River in the eastern suburbs of Liaocheng. The rusty grille was locked, and he pushed hard on the side-hung wicket. What catches the eye is broken broken brick and no one in the courtyard deep wormwood, a bunch of sparrow fluttering edge, breaking the quiet inside this factory. Gatekeeper rubbed his sleepy eyes, yawning again and again. “Hey, who are you looking for?” “Come looking for it.” The entertainer pointedly pointed to the barren yard. “Ah, ah, I heard a director to come, is it you are?” 来人 does not deny, smiled and nodded.