<p>　　打铁花的火星，一千六百摄氏度，自宋时飞溅至今；舞龙的鼓点一响，整条街随之沸腾；剪纸的红屑落满桌面，像日子里的盼头，明亮而热烈……有些东西变了，更快、更轻、更便捷，而那一份滚烫的热闹，始终未曾褪色。</p>


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