人在世纪之交的感觉是奇特的。当你目睹一个世纪日渐远逝的苍茫背影时,那世纪的一切却顽强地从忘川中浮出,步履匆匆地沿着记忆的小径走来。对于中国人来说,这个一百年真是有着太饱满太沉重的内容。它在圆明园焚后的废墟余烬中,在庚子赔款的奇耻大辱中来到人世;它以武昌城头的炮火结束了两干余年的漫长封建帝制,又以一面灿烂的红旗终结了百余年半殖民地半封建的近代苦难。一个黄昏,我路过兴业路,那幢普通却大名鼎鼎的石库门老房子沐浴着夕阳的斜晖。长桌上十几只茶碗仿佛依然飘着缕缕茶香那些关于“中国向何处去”壮杯激烈的论争 People feel strange at the turn of the century. As you witness the vast shadow of a century that has passed by far, everything in that century has emerged tenaciously from the place of forgetting and walking in a hurry along the path of memory. For the Chinese people, this one hundred years really has too full and too heavy content. It came to an end in the embers of the ruins of Yuanmingyuan after it was burnt; it ended its long feudal monarchy with more than two years of dryness with the gunfire of Wuchang Chengtou and ended a hundred and a half years with a splendid red flag Colonial and semi-feudal modern misery. One evening, I passed the Industrial Road, the building is generally famous but old Shikumen bathed the sunset Xie Hui. A dozen of bowls on the long table seem to be still floating on the spice of tea on the “China where to go” stout argument