1980 My literary era

Lin Weimin was a little surprised. The appearance of "Knives Out" was purely a spur-of-the-moment idea. He didn't have much exposure to mystery novels before time travel. Most of them were through film and television works, many of which were Ni Hong's works. If you put it on Lao Mi's side, I'm afraid it will be acclimatized.

"I don't have any inspiration at the moment." Lin Weimin suggested.

Mark Meng's expression was a little regretful, "That's such a pity!"

Lin Weimin didn't feel any pity or pity. The biggest bonus that the accidental appearance of "Knives Out" gave him was just more royalties, but it helped him almost zero on the path of creation.

If there is a chance in the future, he wouldn't mind making some money, but for now he might as well forget it if he doesn't have suitable content.

As for publishing the work in the United States and shocking the whole country, Lin Weimin never thought about it.

Literature cannot escape the soil of nation and culture. Unless you reach the level of a literary giant, you'd better not have any wishful thinking.

Rejecting Mark Meng's kindness, Lin Weimin said goodbye to everyone.

Xiaohei Yoko asked Mark Meng: "Lin Jun, doesn't he want to write mystery novels anymore?"

Mark Meng shook his head, "Who knows? I think he has great potential in this area."

"I think it would be very good for Mr. Lin to write novels with themes like "Farewell My Concubine". He will be famous throughout the ages. You should not urge him to write mystery novels. I think Mr. Lin's decision is a wise one."

Mark Meng patted his forehead and said, "Yoko, have you forgotten what Lin told you before? Don't use idioms indiscriminately, or something will happen."

Lin Weimin, a Chinese, was gone, and surrounded by foreigners, Xiao Heiyang's self-confidence was very inflated, "What's wrong with the idioms I used?"

Yin Geli kindly reminded: "Yangzi, 'lasting fragrance through the ages' seems to describe the dead."

"Ah!" Black Yoko let out a short cry, her expression no longer calm and calm, as if she had made an unforgivable mistake.

"What should I do? It's so disrespectful to Mr. Lin!"

Mark Meng spread his hands, "What does it matter? Lin didn't hear it, so it's not an offense."

Xiao Hei Yoko shook his head, "You don't understand, Mr. Lin's majesty cannot be violated."

Mark Meng and Yin Geli looked at each other and decided not to get entangled with Xiao Hei Yoko anymore.

After several people walked away, only Xiao Hei Yoko was still struggling.

"No, I have caused such great harm to Mr. Lin, so I should find a way to make up for him."

After saying goodbye to a few foreigners, it was already past six o'clock in the evening when Lin Weimin returned to Shichahai Courtyard.

It's almost June, the days are long, and there is still light at this time.

Lin Weimin walked to the door of the courtyard and found that the door was open. He immediately realized that it was Han Zhuangzhuang who had arrived.

"Zhuang Zhuang!" Lin Weimin shouted.

The tall Han Zhuangzhuang ran out of the kitchen in the east wing, holding a frying spoon in his hand, "Uncle, are you back? Wait a minute, we can eat soon."

Um?

When did this kid have such subjective initiative that he even knew how to take the initiative to cook when he came?

If something goes wrong, there must be a monster, and Lin Weimin keeps an eye on it.

It is said that children of poor people become rich early. Han Zhuangzhuang is not a child from a poor family, but his life has not been good for various reasons in recent years, but his cooking skills are decent.

Lin Weimin didn't touch the rice he served, and didn't even pick up the chopsticks. "Fat boy, is there something wrong?"

"It's okay, uncle, you eat." Han Zhuangzhuang pushed the plate towards Lin Weimin.

Lin Weimin used chopsticks to pull apart the plate, "If you don't explain clearly, my uncle will not feel at ease eating this meal!"

Han Zhuangzhuang looked embarrassed, "Uncle, look, who do you think my nephew is?"

Lin Weimin hesitated for a moment, unwilling to hurt the child's heart, "Just say it."

Han Zhuangzhuang laughed and said, "Uncle, would you be happy if my nephew played the leading role?"

"So happy!" Lin Weimin had an unknown premonition in his heart.

"Really? I knew that, uncle, you must support me."

Lin Weimin quickly waved his hand, "Fat boy, don't coax my uncle. My uncle is happy, but what do you mean by this support?"

Han Zhuangzhuang hesitated and said, "Uncle, it's just... I think this male lead has something to do with you."

Lin Weimin's uneasiness became even stronger.

"Tian Zhuangzhuang came to me and said he wanted me to play their 1978 graduation film and give me the leading role."

"What about the conditions?"

Han Zhuangzhuang looked surprised, "Uncle, how do you know there are still conditions?"

Nonsense, Lin Weimin cursed in his heart, which good director could use someone like you as the leading actor!

It's not that Lin Weimin looks down on his nephew, it's actually that his appearance and body shape limit his acting career too much. It's unrealistic to play the leading actor before he graduates.

Han Zhuangzhuang glanced at Lin Weimin guiltily, "Uncle, Tian Zhuangzhuang said that he wants to adapt your "The Death of Yura". It would be best if you could help complete the script."

"It's better to be free, right?" Lin Weimin hummed.

Han Zhuangzhuang didn't dare to speak. No matter how stupid he was, he could tell that his uncle was unhappy.

Lin Weimin looked at him and said helplessly: "Are you really stupid or pretending to be stupid? There are only three male characters in "The Death of Yura", and the one with the most roles is the villain director, who is all in his fifties. You’re here, have you acted?”

Han Zhuangzhuang had never watched "The Death of Yura" at all. He did not expect such a situation and said angrily: "This Tian Zhuangzhuang, he lied to me!"

Lin Weimin shook his head, "I'm not lying to you. This guy is very smart. He asked you to invite me. As long as I agree, then you, the leading actor, can act however you want?"

"Hey, that's right. Uncle, just help me!"

"I'll give you a hammer!" Lin Weimin cursed, "You're really here to collect debts!"

Han Zhuangzhuang's face was full of grievance, which was in sharp contrast with his majestic figure. "If you don't help, you won't help. Why are you scolding me?"

Lin Weimin thought for a moment and decided that he still had to help.

Before he traveled through time, he was a film and television enthusiast, and he was familiar with various film and television works and behind-the-scenes stories.

Regardless of the great reputations of later generations such as Lao Mouzi and young poetry masters, when it comes to the soul of the fifth generation of directors, the name Tian Zhuangzhuang cannot be avoided.

"Small Courtyard", the graduation joint work of Yanying's Class of 78 students, brings together the most elite talents of Yanying.

Director Tian Zhuangzhuang, screenwriters Xie Xiaojing and Cui Xiaoqin, actors Cai Jianxin, Sun Haihong, Zhu Lin, Zhang Jianya, photographers Hou Yong, Zhang Huijun, Zhang Yimou, Lu Le...

Any name mentioned will be a famous figure in future generations.

If my eldest nephew could get acquainted with this group of people, there would be only advantages and no disadvantages.

Besides, if I become a screenwriter, wouldn't it be natural for me to get in touch with the female lead Zhu Lin?

Thinking of this, Lin Weimin sighed and rubbed Han Zhuangzhuang's head.

"Fat boy, uncle, this is all for you!"

Han Zhuangzhuang's face was full of emotion, "Uncle, don't worry, you are so good to me, I will definitely take care of you until you die!"

"roll!"