“爸爸,你能写一只小灰兔的故事吗?它不是我们看到的小灰兔的样子,它像我这么高,有和我一样的黑头发,像我一样会说话。”这是儿子五岁时候对他说的话。很多年以后,他还记得那一刻的情景。他在书房里埋头写自己的稿子,儿子悄悄推开门,踮着脚尖走进来,默默地站在他的书桌边。儿子把两只小手扒在桌子边,眨巴着一双大眼睛,安静地注视着专心写作的父亲。也不知 “Daddy, could you write the story of a little gray rabbit? It’s not what we see as a gray rabbit, it’s like me, with black hair just like me, like me.” " This is what his son said to him when he was five years old. Many years later, he remembered the scene of the moment. He buried his writing in his study, and his son quietly pushed open the door and walked tiptoe silently on his desk. The son grilled his two hands at the table, blinking a pair of big eyes and quietly watching the father concentrate on writing. I do not know