清明节的上午,并没有阴雨缠绵。仲春的太阳悬挂在苍蓝的天空上,阳光还隐隐透着些许冬天的金黄色,温暖慈爱地俯瞰着人世间。李颂德站在城南大道空荡荡的大街边,郊区线路车514路站牌下等车。郊野上坟的活动本来让他充满期待,期待那片刻的踏实安宁。但这一丝期待,却又被那一家三口的动静给破灭了。那一家三口显然也是去上坟的,身边袋子里露出一沓冥币。男人女人把孩子夹在中间,就坐在站牌下的路沿石上。男人手里捏 Ching Ming Festival morning, and no rain lingering. Zhongchun sun hanging in the blue sky, the sun is also a little hidden in the golden yellow of winter, warm and lovingly overlooking the world. Li Songde standing South Avenue empty street, suburban line car 514 stop waiting for the next bus. Activities on the graveyard in the country had made him full of anticipation, looking forward to that moment of practical peace. But this awaited, but it was the movement of a family of three to shattered. That a family of three apparently also went to the grave, surrounded by bags showing a stack of money. Men and women sandwiched children, sitting on the curbs under the stop sign. Pinch man’s hands