I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 65 God's Flow
When Wang Zixu returned home, his wife had not yet returned home, perhaps because she was stuck at work at the flower shop. The loudspeaker of the supermarket across the street was shouting out discount news, and the dim and empty room was filled with echoes, and the last bit of tenderness of the sunset leaked in through the window.

He left a note saying, "I'm going out for a social event, I'll bring you something when I get home." Before leaving, he realized that this was not a good idea, so he cut up the vegetables from the refrigerator and thawed the chicken.

He and Raymond Lam met at the "Old Village Chief". This is the holy place for late night snacks in the hearts of Xihe people. But everyone has forgotten why it has become a holy place, and they only know that the price here is 15% higher than other places.

When Wang Zixu graduated from high school, he often came here for supper with his classmates. Many years have passed, but he didn't expect that Lin Feng would still meet here. The inertia of life plays an equal role on everyone.

The dark blue sky marked the arrival of night. In early summer, night falls late, and it was already past seven in the evening. The streets became lively, vendors set up grills and electric fans, smoke wafted from the restaurants, and the animal fats and fats burning over the charcoal fire gave off a refreshing aroma.

The two sat down on the street, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the world, with the sky above their heads. Raymond ordered several skewers, fried rice noodles, grilled eggplant, fried tofu, and a beer. He was paying.

Before the dishes were served, Lin Feng started to apologize again: "I went back and thought about what happened with Shen Qingfeng today. I really feel sorry for you. He may have considered you as 'my person'."

Wang Zixu clinked his beer bottle against his. "How did your conflict get to this point? Was it just because of a fight over a position?"

Lin Feng sighed and said, "I didn't explain it to you clearly last time. Let's just chat about it today, just to go with the wine."

"Yeah, let's just chat." The two clinked glasses and drank their drinks, more or less casually.

Lin Feng said: "This matter is related to the upcoming change of leadership of the Literary Association. You know, right? My teacher, the president of the Xihe Literary Association, Li Tingfang, will not be in the next term."

Hearing this name, Wang Zixu, who was holding the bottle of wine, was stunned: "Li Tingfang? Which Li Tingfang? Is it that Li Tingfang?"

Lin Feng opened his mouth wide: "Which other Li Tingfang? That Li Tingfang, how come you don't know him?"

The name Li Tingfang appears in the pages of modern and contemporary literary history. She is a representative writer of modern and contemporary Chinese avant-garde literature. She has made great achievements not only in literature, but also in film, television, and painting. Literary history has described her as a "wonderful woman."

After all, that happened at the beginning of the reform and opening up, and even this extraordinary woman will grow old one day. Wang Zixu thought that she had passed away long ago, but he didn't expect that she was actually alive in the local area.

Hearing the news from her in person surprised him terribly, just like seeing a snow-capped mountain thousands of miles away suddenly appearing before his eyes in just one step.

Wang Zixu asked: "Why is a writer of Li Tingfang's caliber the president of the Literary Association in our small place?"

Lin Feng sighed, "Yes, with my teacher's works and qualifications, she could be ranked first in the National Writers Association, not to mention the Provincial Writers Association. But the old lady is indifferent to fame and fortune by nature and doesn't care about this at all. She has a house in Donghai, but she couldn't get used to it, so she moved back to her hometown and settled down here.

"The senior leader Shen Jianqiu has a connection with her. You know, the senior leader attaches great importance to cultural education, so he invited her to come out of retirement to take charge of the Cultural Association, to serve as the standard-bearer and benchmark of the Xihe literary and art circles, and to be a cultural role model for our Xihe. The teacher also generously agreed."

The prince was full of admiration. He asked, "How old is Teacher Li?"

Lin Feng said: "She will be 5 this year. She has been the president of the Cultural Association for years. Think about it, at her age, she can't carry the banner even if she wants to."

Wang Zixu nodded: "So the competition for the next president is fierce."

Lin Feng looked up to the sky and sighed, "Once the teacher leaves office, the literary momentum in Xihe will probably be reduced by 50%."

Wang Zixu asked: "How did you get to know Teacher Li Tingfang?"

When talking about this topic, Lin Feng's face lit up:
"I used to be an unknown clerk in Xihe, but I always had a literary dream in my heart. I kept submitting articles to Xihe Literature and Art, but I rejected them again and again, and the editorial department was annoyed by my harassment.

"They called me specifically to tell me not to submit anymore, and they spent half of every month trying to reject my manuscripts. I told them not to reject them, and if they were not good, they could just throw them into the trash and I would submit another one." Perhaps Teacher Li was moved by her enthusiasm. When she first took office, she called me over and asked me if I was passionate about literature and if I was willing to learn more from her. Of course I agreed. So I became Teacher Li's last disciple.

Prince Xu was sincerely happy for him, but he couldn't help comparing himself to him, and felt that he was too hypocritical. Perhaps it was because he didn't have the spirit of persistence that he couldn't wait until the dawn that belonged to him.

He raised the bottle of wine: "If you keep thinking about it, there will be a response. Cheers, Brother Lin."

Lin Feng also raised his bottle: "If you keep thinking about it, there will be a response. Brother Zixu, you are so talented, and your response will definitely come."

The two of them took a swig and Lin Feng burped. The waiter came over with a tray and said that the dishes were all served. He scratched a few items on the menu with his thumbnail.

The roasted eggplant was dotted with oil, and the minced garlic had an aggressive aroma; the tofu was fried until golden, oily and crispy; the lamb skewers were black with a hint of red, and the cumin wrapped around the mutton smell. Each of us picked up a skewer and put it horizontally in our mouths. It was crispy and chewy, and the mouth was full of fragrance.

Lin Feng wiped his mouth and said, "So I started to learn writing from the teacher. Before, I was like a blind fly, blindly following my own feelings. Once the teacher pointed me out, I saw the door.

“I don’t have any talent. My talent is being humble, studious, and hardworking. I read whatever the teacher asked me to read. Gradually, I became more literary, and the teacher told me to submit my work again.

"Then my articles were published in Xihe Literature and Art. Ten out of ten were successful, and they were even published in higher-level magazines. The teacher said that you have learned it."

Wang Zixu said: "Your spirit and experience are very inspiring. Go for it."

"Dry."

After they finished one bottle, they both opened another one.

Lin Feng said: "The candidates for vice president now are basically me and Shen Qingfeng. In terms of reputation, I can't catch up with him, but in terms of practical work, he still can't do it. In the past few years, a lot of the work of the Cultural Association was handled by me, and he basically didn't care about it."

Wang Zixu said, "You are too modest. Shen Qingfeng has only been popular for a few years. He also became famous all of a sudden and invested a lot in marketing. Apart from the little traffic that goes with the flow, he doesn't have much left."

Lin Feng shook his head: "But who can not care about those people who follow the trend?"

The deeper the topic, the stronger the alcohol. The two of them were already drunk without realizing it. When Wang Zixu was thinking seriously about Lin Feng and the literary world, a strange yet familiar voice came from behind him.

"Wang Zixu? Is that you?"

……

Ning Chunyan's fingers tapped rhythmically on the keyboard.

She put her phone next to her computer. The only sounds in the room were the fan and the keyboard.

She was typing so intently that her lips moved, and as she read out the sentences on the paper, strings of characters flowed out from the keyboard.

The phone vibrated. Ning Chunyan came out of the flow state, leaned over to look at the phone, and saw the name on the screen, a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

(End of this chapter)