2月22日早晨,天空灰灰蒙蒙的。我按照惯例周二来单位上班,每次来,我都起个大早,好乘早班的大巴。也许是昨晚睡眠欠佳的缘故,下了车,刮鼻子刮脸的西北风也没能使我打起精神来。走进温暖的编辑部办公室。心空也没晴朗。九点钟,同事们陆续来上班。庆斌一进来,就低沉地说:“你知道吗?宝琛17号去世了……”声音尽管压得很低,但耳聋的我却听清了,非但听清了,而且犹如在耳边响起一声炸雷,我登时就惊呆了:怎么会呢?春节前,宝琛来哈尔滨市参加他写的电视连续剧 On the morning of February 22, the sky is gray. I routinely come to work on Tuesday, every time I come, I have a very early morning, good morning bus. May be the reason for poor sleep last night, got out of the car, shaved nose of the northwest wind did not make me cheer up. Into a warm editorial office. My heart is not clear. Nine o’clock, my colleagues came to work one after another. Qing Bin came in, he said lowly: “You know? Bao Chen on the 17th died ... ...” Although the sound pressure is very low, but I heard deaf, not only heard, but also as if in the ear Sounded a thunderbolt, I immediately shocked: how come? Before the Spring Festival, Bao Chen to Harbin to participate in his TV series