老周已是花甲的年纪,却不服老,硬让人唤他“老周”。两年前见他搬进我家对门时,空荡荡的屋子、几件红木家具、一点儿日用品,唯墙边密匝匝站着的书架夺人眼球。爱书的穷老头。我定论。那日,母亲遣我向对门借把小葱。“叮咚”一声门铃,只见一绺胡子探出来,弯弯的皱纹从笑咧咧的 Old Zhou is the age of a flower, but refused to accept the old, hard to call him “old week ”. When I saw him moving in front of my house two years ago, empty houses, a few pieces of mahogany furniture, a few household items, and bookshelves standing alone on the wall were the eye-catching signs. Poor old man who loves books. I’m sure. That day, my mother sent me to the door by the shallot. “Buzz ” doorbell, I saw a beard stuck out, curly wrinkles from the careless