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1. Alley
Standing from a high point to see Shanghai, Shanghai's alleys are a spectacular sight.
It is the same thing as the background of this city.
Streets and buildings protrude above it, with some dots and lines, and it is the type of brushstrokes called "Feifa" in Chinese painting, which fills in the blanks.
When it gets dark and the lights are on, there is light on these dots and lines. Behind the light, large areas of darkness are Shanghai's alleys.
The darkness looked almost choppy, almost pushing away those few lines of light.
It has a volume, but the points and lines are floating on the surface. They exist to divide this volume. They are things like punctuation in the article, which break lines and sentences.
The darkness was like an abyss, throwing a mountain down, and also quietly sank to the bottom.
It seems that there are many rocks hidden in the dark, and the boat will capsize if you are not careful.
The few lines of light in Shanghai are all supported by Nadian, and it lasts for decades.
The brilliance of the Paris of the East is spread out with the dark background, and it lasts for decades.
Nowadays, everything seems to be old, revealing the truth bit by bit.
The morning inhalation lights up little by little, and the lights go out little by little.
First, there is a thin mist, the light is straight, outlining, like a fine brushwork.
The first thing that jumped out was the tiger skylight on the roof of the old alley. They have a delicate and well-behaved appearance in the morning mist. The wooden frame window sashes are finely carved; the tiles on the house are finely arranged; on the windowsill The rose flowers in the pots are also carefully raised.
Then the balcony came out too, there were overnight clothes, stagnant, like painted clothes;
The cement on the low wall of the balcony peeled off, revealing the rust-red bricks, as if they were painted, and every stroke was clear.
Then, the cracks on the gable wall also appeared, and there were a little green moss, like the coolness of the tentacles.
The first ray of sunlight is on the gable wall. This is a beautiful picture, almost gorgeous and somewhat desolate; it is fresh and old.
At this time, the concrete floor at the bottom was still in the morning mist, and the fog at the back was heavier than the fog at the front.
There was also sunlight on the balcony of the iron railings in the new style, reflecting the light on the long floor-to-ceiling windows.
This is a relatively sharp stroke, with the meaning of opening the curtain and dividing the night and day.
The fog was finally dissipated by the sun, and everything aggravated the color. The green moss turned out to be black, the wood of the frame was also black, but the black iron railings of the balcony had a yellow rust, and the cracks in the gables grew green. Grass, white doves flying in the sky into gray doves.
Shanghai's alleys are of different shapes and colors.
Sometimes they are like that, sometimes they are like that, and they don't agree.
In fact, they are invariable from their ancestry, and their shape is unchanged. Whether they turn upside down and finally talk about the same thing, thousands of people handle it, and one mind.
That kind of cave gate alleys are the most powerful kind of alleys in Shanghai. They have the inheritance of a deep house compound, and they have the face of a vice official. They all make a door and a wall.
Once the door has been opened, the courtyard is shallow, and the guest hall is also shallow. After walking through it in two steps and two steps, a wooden staircase is overhead.
The wooden staircase does not bend, and reaches the boudoir upstairs, and the windows on the second floor facing the street reveal amorous feelings.
The new-style lanes in the East District of Shanghai are built with shelves. The door is a low, carved iron door. It is not enough to have a leaning window upstairs. A standing balcony is needed to get a good view of the market.
The oleanders in the yard stick out of the wall, looking like a spring that cannot be locked.
But the inside is still guarded. The lock on the back door is a spring lock made in Germany. The windows on the ground floor have iron fences. The low iron doors have sharp corners. The patio is surrounded by the middle of the room, and one can come in and out. Not going.
The alleys of the apartments in the West District are strictly guarded. The rooms are all complete sets. One door is closed and one man is in a position to open the door. The wall is a soundproof wall, and the chickens do not hear each other loudly.
The house and the house are separated by a wide area, and they have never seen each other.
But this precaution is also a democratic precaution. The European and American style protects the freedom of life. In fact, you can do whatever you want, and no one can stop it.
The shantymen's mess is completely open. The cow felt roof is leaking, the siding wall is not sheltered from the wind, and the doors and windows are not closed tightly.
The houses in this kind of alley look like row upon row, squeezed close to each other, the light is like a bean, although faint, but dense, like a pot of porridge.
They are like a big river with countless tributaries, and they are like big trees with countless branches.
They are criss-crossed, and they are a big net.
They are exposed on the surface, but in fact they are mysterious and have a tortuous heart.
At dusk, the flock of pigeons hovered in the sky of Shanghai, looking for their nests.
The roof ridges undulate continuously, looking like ridges and peaks.
Standing on the highest point, they are all connected in one piece, boundless, with some confusion between the southeast and the northwest.
They are still flowing like water, drilling at the cracks. They look a little messy, but in fact they are scattered.
They are vast and dense. Some resemble wheat fields that farmers sow and then harvest, and some resemble primeval forests that fend for themselves.
They are indeed extremely beautiful sights.
Shanghai's alleys are sexy, with a skin-like appearance.
It has the coolness and warmth of the tentacles, which is sensible and selfish.
The back window of the kitchen with grease. Its just for mom to talk about it in one mile and another;
The back door by the window is for the eldest lady to carry her schoolbag to the school to study, and tryst with the man;
Although the front door is not often open, there will be major events when it is opened. It is designed for guests to walk around, and notices of weddings and funerals are posted.
It always has a little uncontrollable excitement, abruptly, and a little babbled.
There are some whispers on the terraces and balconies, as well as by the windows, and the knocking on the door at night is also one after another.
Still have to stand on the highest point, and then find a good angle: the clothes on the bamboo poles in the alley are scattered, with a bit of personal feelings;
The impatiens, jewel flowers, green onions and garlic planted in pots are also the nature of personal affection;
The pigeon coop on the roof is an empty heart;
Broken and chaotic tiles are also a symbol of heart and body.
Some of the ravine-like bottomings were paved with cement, and some were made of pebble.
The cement paved is a little separated from the heart and the lungs, while the stone pavement road feels like fleshy palms and backs.
There are also two footsteps for the two bottoming. The former is crisp and loud, but the latter is eaten and stuffed in the belly;
The former is polite, and the latter is from the bottom of the heart. Both are not official articles, and they are unavoidable daily routines.
Shanghai's Hou Nong looks like it is going to get into people's hearts. The pavement there is decorated with cracks, the gutter is overflowing, the water is floating with fish scales and old vegetable leaves, and there is oil smoke from the stove.
It's a bit dirty and untidy here, and the deepest and deepest kind of privacy is also exposed, a bit unruly.
Therefore, it looks a little gloomy.
The sun only came in at three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun went down soon.
This bit of sunlight instead covered it with an ambiguous color. The wall was yellow, and the roughness on the surface appeared, a layer of sand.
The window glass is also yellow, stained, and looks like some flowers.
At this time, the sun has been shining for a long time, and it is a little tired that cannot be suppressed, and the last light from the bottom of the sun bursts out to shine, and there are many sediments in the light, which is sticky and heavy, and somewhat unclean. .
The flock of pigeons flew in the front, and the dust in the evening photos flew in the back lane, and wild cats also appeared here.
This is deep into the skin, and it can't be said that it is close or close. On the contrary, it is a bit greasy and intimidating in the dark, but there is a bit of bone-chewing touch.
The moving of Shanghai alley comes from the most everyday scenes. The moving is not caused by the turbulence of clouds and water, but accumulated bit by bit.
This is a touch of the popularity of fireworks.
The rows of lanes are filled with unexpected and cleaned things. The things are not big, but trivial, and the sand can also form a tower.
It has nothing to do with the concept of history, and it is hard to call it unofficial history, it can only be called the kind of rumors.
Rumors are another view of Shanghai's alleys. It is almost visible, and it also comes out from the rear windows and doors.
The front door and front balcony are slightly more serious, but they are also rumors.
Although these rumors are not historical, they also take the form of time, and they have a cause and effect.
These rumors are close to the skin, not as cold and rigid as the old paper pile. Although there are many fallacies, the fallacies are also perceptible fallacies.
When the street lights in this city are brilliant, there is usually only a light on the corner in the alley, with the most common iron cover, rust and dust on the cover, the light is dim yellow, and there is some smoke below. Things breed and spread, and this is when rumors are brewing.
This is an obscure moment, a little unclear, but it hurts the heart.
The flock of pigeons was choking in the cage, as if they were also whispering.
The light on the street was justified, but it was a pity that just as it was about to flow into the mouth, it was eaten by the dark.
The rumors in the former guest hall and the left and right wing rooms are more old-fashioned and smell like yellow grass;
The rumors about alley houses with pavilions and corner stairs are new, and the smell is mothball.
Both the old school and the new school have a sincere heart, and they can be called true feelings.
All of them were chucking water with their hands, chucking a handful and half-filling a pool, and the swallows built a nest with a bite in the mud, without any laziness or trickery.
The alleys in Shanghai are really unseen. The green moss in its shade is actually all scars on the wounds, which are pains relieved by time.
Because it is not justified, it grows in the shade and there is no sunshine for many years.
The Wall Climbing Tiger is frontal, but it is a curtain of time, covering something.
When the pigeon flock was flying, looking at the roof tiles of the alley with waves, my heart felt a stabbing pain.
The sun gushes out from the roof, bumps and bumps, and light is discounted light. This is a spectacular collection of countless fragments, and a huge force of countless patience.
2. gossip
Rumors are always somber.
This gloomy air is sometimes the smell of yellow turban in the east and west wing, sometimes the smell of mothballs, and sometimes the smell of meat cutting boards.
It is not the smell of banyan and cigar, nor is it the smell of dichlorvos.
It is not the kind of masculine smell, but a feminine and euphemistic smell of a woman.
It is the mixed smell of the boudoir and the kitchen, a little powdery, a little oily, and a little sweaty.
The rumors are still covered by clouds, and the shadows are beautiful, it is the window glass that breathes, and the window glass is dusted.
There are as many rumors as there are alleys in this city, and there is no way to count them.
These rumors have a kind of spreading and tainting effect. They will turn some true stories into rumors-like things that are generally ambiguous. Therefore, what is true stories and what are rumors is somewhat unclear.
Rumors are difficult to distinguish between true and false. There is truth in the false and the false in the truth. It is also unclear.
They inevitably have absurd features. This absurdity is also the absurdity of women's short-sightedness, with something rare and strange, and some hallucinations.
They passed from one back door to another in a place like an alley, and in a blink of an eye they became known to the whole world.
They are like a kind of silent electric waves that cross over the city; they are also like invisible clouds, covering the city, gradually causing a rain of right and wrong.
This rain is not a downpour, but the rain in the yellow plum sky. Although it is not violent, it is soaked in the air.
Therefore, this rumor cannot be underestimated. It has a dense and soft shape, which is very entangled.
In every lane in Shanghai, there is such an air of right and wrong.
In the lanes of the noble apartments in the West District, the air is also high, cooler and clearer, just like the autumn sky, the sky is high and the clouds are light;
In the new-style alleys that come down further, the air will become turbid and fluctuate, like the wind, blowing back and forth;
The lower-level grotto door old-fashioned alley is not the air, it is not the wind, but the water vapor in the regaining sky, stains can be seen everywhere;
When you reach the old lane of the shanty, it is the fog in the foggy day, not the fog of the sunrise, but the fog of the thick fog, which is filled with rain, and there is no one in five steps away.
But no matter what kind of alley, the air is permeable and everywhere.
They can be said to be the spiritual nature of Shanghai alleys.
If Shanghai's alleys can speak, they must be rumors.
They are the ideas of Shanghai alleys, which spread day, night, and day.
If Shanghai alleys have dreams, then dreams are rumors.
Rumors are always humble.
It has a vulgar heart, and it is inevitable that it is self-willing.
It is the water in the gutter that has been used and polluted.
It is the kind that is unreasonable and not strong, and can only whisper secretly.
It has no sense of responsibility and does not bear the consequences, so it is somewhat arbitrary, like water flowing.
It cannot withstand scrutiny, and no one has the intention to scrutinize it.
It's a bit like verbal rubbish, but sometimes the real thing can be found in rubbish.
They are the scraps of those serious words, old yellow leaves, and tares in the rice.
They often have a less serious face, with many bad things, few good things, and unclean. They are pickled goods.
They are actually made of the most inferior materials. Even the ladies in the apartments in the West District of Shanghai will inevitably accumulate some of these inferior materials.
But only in these inferior shady materials, there will be some real things.
These real things are decent things behind. They are said to be something that I dare not listen to, so I used them to make rumors.
If the rumors are good, they are in this truth.
This truth has a false face. It is true in the false and the truth in the virtual.
This is really a bit of courage to be a man, it is the courage not to be afraid of shame, and the courage to be a ghost if you don't do it, and the courage to go against the tune.
There was some sadness in this courage.
This grief is the grief of unsuccessful unsatisfactory heart. There are some anger in it, grief is sorrow, but the heart is so lofty, only because of this so lofty, did it bring the sad grief of loss.
Therefore, this grief is also crude grief, not in the style of Tang poetry, but a kind of street incision.
This sorrow shows the weight, it is painful, it is the accumulation of sorrow, not the wind and snow on the water.
Rumors are actually something that sinks into the bottom. It is not something that is washed by hand and refined by thousands of hammers. It has been originally and later, it is not cleaned, and it is not refined. It is a bit of human toughness, breaking bones and connecting tendons. , I smashed my teeth and swallowed my stomach.
The rumors are inevitably bluffs, alarmist talks, and the demons and demons come together. They move with the wind and follow the wind. They can't touch the head or catch the tail.
However, the true heart in this city can only be found in rumors.
No matter how gorgeous the city looks, the heart is a vulgar heart. That heart is sent in rumors, and rumors are sent in the alleys of Shanghai.
This magical legend of Oriental Paris all over the Far East is actually the core of rumors.
It's like the core of a pearl, which is actually a coarse grain of sand. Rumors are the same thing as this grain of sand.
Rumors are confusing, they seem to rewrite history, and they start small.
It bites the records in the book bit by bit like a cannibalism, and erodes the mansion like a termite.
It has no rules, is messy, and doesn't follow the rules. It doesn't matter where it is, it's a bit rogue and scornful.
It doesn't talk about long stories or trivial details, it just looks horizontally.
It is the kind of sneak attack method. It wipes a hand from behind, turns around but disappears, and it turns out to be wronged and debtless.
It doesn't have any big movements, but the small movements are fine and fragmented without stopping, and then converge into more, and the trickle flows into the big river.
The so-called "rumor rush" refers to this, and it is indeed buzzing like a bee.
It is a bit despicable, but also diligent.
It has to be lifted up to start a match even with a matchstick, and it is picked up and used for needles when it sees a thread.
Although it is a mess, it is serious and sincere, not cynical, and even rumors are carefully fabricated.
Although there is no root and no proof, it is affectionate and intentional.
They do their own thing, you say what you say, what they say about it, what kind of fair things are all right and wrong in it.
It does not hold different political views. It has no political views and knows nothing about politics. It is a different way. It is not opposed to or agrees with society, but a society of its own.
It is an offshoot of this society. It can't attract the vigilance of the society. Therefore, its secret tricks can often succeed.
They are actually a force that should not be underestimated, a bit like "the wind begins at the end of Qingping".
They deviate from traditional morality. Yinmu looks like anti-feudalism, but blindly violates morals, and is typical of the lower three bad.
They dare to pull the emperor off the horse, not in the face of republican democracy, but as a ruffian, which is also a typical bad example.
They are both revolutionary and counter-revolutionary. They are abandoned and ignored by the forces on both sides.
They are really not serious, otherwise they can rise to the public opinion level to openly repair the plank road, but now they can only go through Chencang secretly, and the wind is over.
The wind blows its ears, and it doesn't care. It is a home from all over the world and has no idea of starting a business.
It has no ambition, no ambition, and even no brain.
It has only the instinct to write and make trouble, grow and reproduce in a daze.
The speed of its reproduction is amazing, like a fish.
There are also many ways of reproduction, sometimes with loops, sometimes with sets, sometimes with mystery, sometimes with crime.
They fill the air of the city, like a group of casual wanderers without a home. In fact, rumors are one of the romances of this city.
The romance of gossip lies in its unfettered imagination.
This imagination is what a dragon can jump through a dog hole and drill, there is no clear discipline.
There is no such thing as a rumors or rumors.
It also has infinite vitality, how can it be strangled, it is endlessly burned by wildfire, and spring breeze blows again.
It is the humblest kind of grass seed, and it still takes root and blooms even when the wind blows into the cracks of the stone.
It drills as soon as it meets the cracks, and can enter and exit even tightly curtained places like a boudoir.
It lingers outside the embroidery on the eldest lady's flower frame, and it is still in the after-school reading materials of female students. The pages of those sad novels are lingering, and there are always some tears on the pages.
As the desk clock ticked away, rumors were growing bit by bit; in the wash basin, rumors were growing bit by bit.
Secret places are often places where rumors grow. The air of privacy is particularly conducive to the growth of rumors.
The alleys in Shanghai can hide their privacy, so the rumors are prolonged.
In the night, thousands of families turned off the lights, and there was a ray of light from the crack of the door, that was rumors;
A pair of embroidered slippers in the moon field in front of the bed is also a rumor;
The old mother held her hair comb box and said she combed her hair, but she was spreading rumors
The rumbling of the young grandma's shuffle is a rumors;
Even the sparrows jumping in the patio in the winter afternoon when there is no one are talking about bird language rumors.
There is a word "private" in this rumor, and there is a bit of unspeakable suffering in the word "private".
This difficulty is not the kind of Tang Minghuang to Yang Guifei, nor the kind of Chu Bawang to Yu Ji. It is not the kind of ups and downs, song, weeping, and sorrowful sufferings, but a dog's skin falling down the stove, pulling silk and climbing vines, and crumbs. Crumbly.
Shanghai's alleys cannot hide their hardships.
Its difficulties are divided and distributed equally, and there is not much to assign to each person.
Even if it is sorrow, even if it is sorrow, it is sorrow in the stomach, in the stomach, it cannot be said to be used on the stage for people to watch, nor can it be compiled into words and music for people to sing. Only oneself knows how it came and went. To suffer hardship only suffers oneself, this is the meaning of the word "private", in fact, it is also the meaning of real hardship.
Therefore, the rumors have some pain in the end, although the pain is not the place, it is also boring.
This pain is painful to everyone, there is no sympathy, and it cannot attract sympathy. It is a lonely pain.
This is also the moving part of the rumors.
The moment when the rumors arise is actually the moment of being a man.
The life in the Shanghai alley is to be a man with all his heart and attention, with his eyes only fixed on himself and nothing else.
I dont want to create history, I just want to create my own, the kind that has no ambition, but has exhausted strength.
This strength is also an evenly distributed strength, and each person has a share.