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Jurenxiang
General Fiction举人巷
Peng Dong
It had been cloudy for several days, and people in the city seemed to have forgotten the clear sky. The first month of 1939 looked gray, like a frowning and resentful woman. Under the overcast sky, among the brown houses, occasionally smoke from someone's stove rises from behind the bare tree trunks. The smoke dissipated, and a sun flag on the spire of the battlement on the city wall stood out. There are only a few pedestrians on the bluestone street lined with shops, but the front doors of each shop look very lively. A painter stood on a temporary shelf, holding four or five paintbrushes between his fingers and skillfully tracing the pattern of "Wealth never stops" on the eaves of a shop. Under him, there were people painting door panels, hanging lanterns, and cleaning the streets. There was an energy in the market that was full of things to do.
It had been cloudy for several days, and people in the city seemed to have forgotten the clear sky. The first month of 1939 looked gray, like a frowning and resentful woman. Under the overcast sky, among the brown houses, occasionally smoke from someone's stove rises from behind the bare tree trunks. The smoke dissipated, and a sun flag on the spire of the battlement on the city wall stood out. There are only a few pedestrians on the bluestone street lined with shops, but the front doors of each shop look very lively. A painter stood on a temporary shelf, holding four or five paintbrushes between his fingers and skillfully tracing the pattern of "Wealth never stops" on the eaves of a shop. Under him, there were people painting door panels, hanging lanterns, and cleaning the streets. There was an energy in the market that was full of things to do.