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20世纪80年代中期,有一个叫季宝红的上海人在上海一家汽车修理厂当修理工。在“书记谈理想、厂长搞横向、干活靠阿乡、阿拉白相相”的年头,他的生活是悠闲的,同时也是懵懂的。有一次他正在车间休息,一个同事问:“人一辈子能活多少天?”要求大家凭直觉快速抢答。有人说是10万天,有人说是20万天,季宝红迅速地想起那句老话:百年三万六千五百天,便抢答说,只有两万四千多天。同事们计算了一番,点头一叹,人生苦短啊!一瞬间,这个叫季宝红的年轻人似乎被这句话打中了似的,有一种全然不同的迷惘感。
In the mid-1980s, a Shanghai native named Ji Baohong was a mechanic at a Shanghai auto repair shop. In “the ideal secretary, the director engaged in landscape, working on a rural, Allah White”, his life is laid-back, but also ignorant. Once he was resting in the workshop, a colleague asked: “How many days can a man live?” He urged everyone to rush quickly with intuition. Some people say that it is 100,000 days. Some people say that it is 200,000 days. Ji Baohong quickly remembered the old saying: For a hundred and thirty-six thousand five hundred days, he answered that there were only twenty-four thousand days. My colleagues calculated something, nodded, life is too short ah! Suddenly, this young man named Ji Baohong seems to be hit by this sentence, there is a completely different sense of confusion.