I’m Really a Superstar

morning.

Beijing Radio Station.

The auditorium on the top floor was overcrowded, anchors and staff from many radio channels were here, and all the columns gave the green light to today's Mid-Autumn Poetry Competition.

Zhang Ye had a stomachache and was squatting in the bathroom on the top floor. Maybe he had eaten too much instant noodles these days. There were times when the Instant Noodle Man couldn't hold on anymore and his stomach rebelled. While squatting in the tub, he was surfing the Internet with his mobile phone, and found that the Mid-Autumn Poetry Competition of the radio station had been promoted in full swing. Not only was his radio website already in full swing, but it had also been advertised on some other large forums and portals. Today is a legal holiday. Most men, women, and children are resting at home and celebrating the holiday with their relatives and friends. At noon, it is the time for everyone to have dinner and chat. If you are idle, you are idle. Listening to a poetry meeting is not an option. The radio station chose this time It’s a good idea to hold a poetry festival, and the time slot is good.

There was a lot of discussion online and there were countless messages.

"Poetry session? That's great!"

"You must hear this!"

"Last year, Tianjin Radio Station did a good job. There were many good poems."

"Ha, this year is even better. Didn't I see that all the teachers from the Association are here? I estimate that I can at least come up with a classic Mid-Autumn Festival poem."

There are also some people who have heard about yesterday’s Weibo scolding war, or who know Zhang Ye.

"Huh? Meng Dongguo? Little Red Mushroom, the one who writes fairy tales, is also there? Is there Da Lei on the list? That poet who despises Teacher Zhang Ye?"

"Haha! It's fun to watch!"

"Yes, I remember Zhang Ye is from the Beijing Radio Station, right? The art frequency is also broadcasting it today? Teacher Zhang Ye has to be there too, right?"

"Yeah, that's right!"

"I just scolded you yesterday and we met today. It's not like enemies don't get together!"

"Will Teacher Zhang also come on stage to give a lecture? I'm looking forward to it!"

"I do not know,

I didn’t see him on the list, they were all from the Writers’ Association! "

There are supporters of Zhang Ye's poetry, and of course, there are even more fans of teachers like Meng Dongguo, that is, people who don't agree with Zhang Ye's literary quality!

"You are still not convinced? What about Zhang Ye?"

"Ignore those people. I can't explain to them at all. I'm just a fool!"

"It's just right that Zhang Ye is not on the list. The teachers made it very clear yesterday that this person is just a sensationalist. How can he write poems and songs? It's such a big occasion, such a big Mid-Autumn Poetry Festival, and it's a live broadcast. , isn’t it a joke to have Zhang Ye on stage? It’s fine to deceive those who don’t understand it with his poems, but those who really understand it will laugh without saying a word, and let others laugh out loud.”

"Haha, if Zhang Ye is asked to go up, he probably won't dare to go up!"

"That's right, don't take this porcelain job without this diamond!"

"I really hope that Zhang Ye will go up. Before there was no comparison, everyone still couldn't see his true face. This time so many teachers are here, let everyone see what real poetry is. Zhang Ye's three-legged cat poems are definitely Show your true colors and let the teachers teach the younger generations!”

"support!"

"Who is Zhang Ye!"

"This kind of person is just a showman. I guess he will not dare to go on stage today. Have you seen Zhang Ye's curse words? Your sister, a literati and a poet, how can you be so abusive? At first glance, it seems that no literati should He has a certain temperament, and if the teachers are right to question him, he can’t write poetry!”

Most of them were questioning Zhang Ye, so he stopped reading and disconnected the internet and left the bathroom.

At the end of the day, all the important people came. Just as the poetry show was about to begin, some leaders from the stage and invited guests from the Writers Association began to enter.

Zhang Ye happened to meet them at the door.

Deputy Director Jia smiled and led them inside, "Chairman Meng, this is our auditorium. I remember you came here last year, right?"

Meng Dongguo is a fat man in his forties or fifties. He has quite a lot of hair and is not bald. He nodded and said: "I came here once. It was for a meeting. I haven't seen Mr. Jia Tai for two years. Old My style is still the same, it hasn’t changed at all, I can’t do it anymore, look at these wrinkles.”

Deputy Director Jia seemed to have a good relationship with him, "Haha, come on, my hair has fallen out, but you are the one who still looks the same."

At this time, a group of little girls on the stage saw them and they all swarmed up!

"Teacher Meng! Are you Teacher Meng?" A twenty-year-old girl was very excited. She was debugging the line outside and stopped her work to rush over. "I am your fan. I really like your poems. My mother often read your poems to me when I was little. I really grew up listening to your works. Oh, I am so excited, so excited. Can you sign your name for me?"

Deputy Director Jia waved his hand, "It will start soon."

But Meng Dongguo said: "It's okay, brother, it doesn't take time to sign. Come on, little girl."

The girl got her wish and got the signature, and then left happily.

Seeing that Meng Dongguo was so easy to talk to, several girls and young men immediately came up to ask for autographs.

Some people also ran to the back, and regardless of whether the leader wanted it or not, they found their idols and favorite teachers and asked for autographs.

"Auntie Little Red Mushroom! Can you, me, I want an autograph? I grew up listening to your fairy tales, and I like you very much!" A young man said solemnly.

Little Red Mushroom is also a little fat, but he is dressed very handsome and young. He has a kind face and says: "Okay, where can I sign for you?"

"Teacher Dalei!" Someone came up to me from the other side, "Your poems have always been on my mobile phone desktop. Can I take a photo with you? Just one!"

Dalei is a tall and strong Northeastern man with a strong Northeastern accent. I remember that his information said that he was from Beijing, maybe he grew up in the Northeast. "Then what's the problem? Come on!"

Sign autographs and take photos.

The teachers of the Writers Association have received a lot of attention and attention. It is not surprising that they are all very famous in the capital. The radio station broadcasts within the capital and sometimes broadcasts their works, so the staff They are all familiar with these teachers, and some of them admire them very much.

Big thunder? Meng Dongguo? Little red mushroom?

Among the dozen or so people at the back, listening to the shouts of fans, there seems to be romance author Zheng Anbang?

Aren't these the same group of people who scolded me yesterday? Hey, okay, everyone is here today, right?

Zhang Ye deeply forgot about them and memorized the faces of several people. Suddenly, someone called him from behind.

"Teacher Zhang Ye, oops, I found you. The seat is reserved for you. Our art station is in the middle and back rows. I will take you there." said a young man who had just joined the art broadcast.

"Okay, let's go." Zhang Ye followed into the auditorium.

Zhang Ye?

Is he Zhang Ye?

Upon hearing this, Meng Dongguo, Dalei, Little Red Mushroom and others all looked over.

Dalei didn't understand the situation yet and had no impression of the name. When he saw the expressions on Meng Dongguo's and the others' faces, Dalei remembered the name and asked, "Which Zhang Ye? The one who wrote the so-called modern poetry?"

Little Red Mushroom said: "Yes."

Deputy Director Jia confirmed: "It's him, what's wrong?"

Da Lei said: "He works at a radio station? I just found out."

Zheng Anbang said to Deputy Director Jia: "It's okay, Director Jia, I just mentioned him on the Internet yesterday. He doesn't know how to write poetry at all, and what he writes is not called literature. Chairman Meng, as a senior, said a few words about him. As a result, He seemed quite unconvinced, not modest at all, and even wrote a poem to refute, "What do you think this is? Chairman Meng and we, as experienced people, kindly gave him a few words of advice, but he didn't appreciate it and treated his kindness like a donkey's liver and lungs!"

Deputy Director Jia was suddenly enlightened and said with a smile: "Zhang Ye is a newcomer. Writing ghost stories is okay, but writing poems...how can he compete with you guys, haha."

Meng Dongguo waved his hand, "Let's not talk about him, brother, let's go in?"

"Let's go, it's about to start." Deputy Director Jia and several small leaders in the station greeted them into the auditorium and sat in the first row.

People around me look at me and I look at you.

"Did you see Zhang Ye's measly performance yesterday?"

"Look, I didn't expect them to bump into each other today!"

"I think something is going to happen. Who knows what Mr. Zhang Ye's temper is like? How often does something happen where he is? Don't start another fight."

"No, it won't happen if we fight."

"Literature people look down on each other. The people in the Writers' Association have to say that Zhang Ye doesn't understand literature. According to Teacher Xiao Zhang's character, it's strange that he can tolerate it. Who is Teacher Xiao Zhang? He is someone who dares to scold his colleagues. Then You are the one who dares not to give the Taiwan leader face, just watch, I think I will definitely not be able to survive today."

On other radio frequencies, Zhang Ye is now very famous and everyone knows it, so after learning about this situation, they always feel like a storm is coming.

…

Back row in the auditorium.

Zhang Ye sat down in his seat, with Wang Xiaomei on the left and Wu Datao on the right. He had had conflicts with Wu Datao, so naturally he had nothing to say. Wang Xiaomei was notorious for not talking much, and she didn't have much talk with Zhang Ye. To communicate, Zhang Ye had no choice but to look down at his phone.

Yes, the cell phone signal is not good yet.

The auditorium may have been so well insulated that it blocked the signal.

It took Zhang Ye several times to connect to the Internet. He looked at the Mid-Autumn Poetry Competition selection interface on the official website of the radio station. Now it has actually begun. Many listeners and people from all walks of life have sent in their own works, including ancient poems. There are those who write lyrics, some who write modern poems, and some who write original songs about the Mid-Autumn Festival. There are no prizes in this competition, but there are honors. If you can get the top three, you will definitely become famous in the circle, so There are also many people participating.

However, the content is not flattering.

"Yue, my Yue'er, you are so beautiful..."

"On the Mid-Autumn Festival, every family eats moon cakes. After finishing one, they eat another one."

Zhang Ye almost shed tears when he saw it. The voting process has been opened, but even the poems ranked first in the voting are very average and of low quality.

Boom.

The door to the auditorium is closed.

The last bit of signal on his mobile phone was blocked and he couldn't access the Internet. Zhang Ye had no choice but to put away his mobile phone and think about how to clear his name!

Is my poem bad?

Are my poems unliterary?

This not only denies Zhang Ye, but also denies the famous scholars and masters of his world. Zhang Ye is really ridiculous for them. This is in this world. If it were Zhang Ye, would Meng Dongguo and the others dare to question these words? He must be beaten to death!

Chapter 56 [One song after another! ] Twelve o'clock sharp.

The auditorium was officially connected to live broadcast.

The stage was decorated with splendid decorations, flower carpets, and a host lineup of handsome men and beautiful women. Well, it was a pity that only the three or four hundred people who worked at the live radio station and their families could see it. The audience in front of the radio could not appreciate it. They could only enjoy it. Sounds can be heard.

"Hello, listeners!"

"I am the host Zhang Huo, and this is my partner Sun Mengjie."

"Everyone is reunited during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Listeners are welcome to listen to today's Mid-Autumn Poetry Show live broadcast for you by News Frequency, Literary Frequency and Music Frequency!"

The two hosts are both star hosts of the news station and are recognized as two of the best in the station. They speak very steadily and rarely make mistakes. It is obvious that the station attaches great importance to them being responsible for this conference. After a few opening remarks, the two hosts began to introduce today's guests.

"Let us welcome Chen Kun, deputy director of the Beijing Education Bureau!"

"And Teacher Meng Dongguo, Vice Chairman of the Beijing Writers' Association!"

"The famous poet Da Lei!"

"The famous fairy tale writer Little Red Mushroom..."

After each introduction, everyone burst into applause.

After the introduction, the host Zhang Huo said loudly and joyfully: "Before the poetry meeting begins, I would like to invite several teachers from our Writers Association to come on stage to recite a poem for everyone as an opening. I also wish the listeners in front of the radio a happy family. All your wishes come true and we are reunited!"

The opening poetry recitation program was obviously prepared.

Meng Dongguo was the first to take the stage and recited calmly: "We rarely get to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival together every year, but now we pay for it. I am happy and keep my thoughts in mind."

As soon as the preface came out, everyone present knew what poem they were going to read to cheer up. Of course, except for Zhang Ye, he might have never heard this poem before.

Da Lei came on stage, "Holding the mirror and embracing the two moons."

Zheng Anbang took the stage, "Bringing branches around the tranquility."

A little old man from the Writers' Association whom Zhang Ye didn't know was the third one to pick up the call. "A tree in the west is fragrant."

The last sentence was picked up by Meng Dongguo again, and the finale ended with, "The house is full of autumn."

Everyone applauded warmly. Zhang Ye listened and clapped his hands together. This poem is good, really good.

This poem is "He Jia Shi" by the world-famous poet Ma Ruihong. Because of this allusion, this poem has become famous all over the world. It has always been a must-do item during the Mid-Autumn Festival. That is, Zhang Ye is not completely aware of this world. Most people just don't know it, but no one else knows this song "He Jia Shi". In the streets and alleys, men, women, old and young, anyone can recite it at random. Well, for example, it may be equivalent to Zhang Ye's feeling of "the day of hoeing is noon, and the sweat is dripping from the soil".

Zhang Ye no longer has the intention of looking down on the world's heroes. There are many capable seniors in this world.

After reciting the poem, Chen Kun, deputy director of the Beijing Education Bureau, stepped onto the podium to deliver a speech. Later, Deputy Director Jia also took the stage to speak, wishing everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival on behalf of all the staff of the Beijing Radio Station.

After a while of ink stains, the main topic came belatedly.

Hostess Sun Mengjie put on a bright smile and said, "Thank you leaders for your speeches. Next is the poetry competition. Let me tell you the rules. Whether it is the poems written by the teachers of the Writers Association in the venue or the poems published by the audience friends outside the venue. Regardless of the songs and poems selected by our official Mid-Autumn Poetry Association website, as long as you like the poems, everyone can vote three times for your favorite works. We have also invited notaries from the Chengdong District Notary Office today, and we will make statistics. The top three in the voting, so please cherish every vote in your hand."

Zhang Huo smiled and said, "Then we invite the first teacher?"

More than a dozen people came from the Writers Association. After looking at each other, Meng Dongguo came up. "Haha, no one came up, so I'll be the first to come. Mine is a poem." Holding the microphone, Meng Dongguo calmed down. Steadying his mind, he spoke softly: "The title of the poem - "Thoughts on a Mid-Autumn Rainy Night"."

"The flowers are numerous and the flowers are fading, and the moon is full and the moon is missing."

"The dynasty comes in the spring, and the twilight leaves Huayan."

"Thick things are done together, and the roots are opened together, and the things that are sparse are said to be farewell in the autumn."

"Lie up the pillow and listen to the thunder, and recall the wind and rain at night."

Da Lei was the first to clapped his hands and said, "What a poem!"

Another young man from the Writers Association said: "Chairman Meng is getting better and better!"

Shen Anbang also nodded heavily, "Well written. There are too many Mid-Autumn Festival poems about reunion, but this poem goes in the opposite direction. It writes about parting, shortcomings, and lamentation. It doesn't seem to be a scene of reunion of people and family, but some It’s not the right time, but it’s precisely because there’s no reunion that people feel and cherish the beauty of reunion even more. This is writing about the Mid-Autumn Festival from another angle. This Yili Night is a masterpiece. Alas, I’m embarrassed to pick up this poem. Come out."

The little red mushroom smiled brightly and said: "Old Shen, don't compare with them. We are both writers of novels. Why don't we get mad when we compare poems and songs with them?"

Shen Anbang laughed, "Yes."

The two hosts also gave a few words of praise on the stage, and also introduced it to the audience in their words, because the audience could not see it after all, "This is the new work of Mr. Meng Dongguo, the vice chairman of our Beijing Writers Association and the leader of the Beijing poetry circle. Alas, , I was so mesmerized when I heard it.”

Meng Dongguo joked: "It's not that bad yet, haha, but listeners, if you think it's good, remember to vote for me. I came under pressure today. If the votes are too low, I won't have the shame to go back, so I have to vote. A canvass for votes.”

Zhang Huo said: "Chairman Meng is too humble."

"Yes." Sun Mengjie said: "I think this poem has the appearance of a champion."

"Is this the first poem?" Zhang Huo said hypocritically.

"Haha, Zhang Huo, why don't we make a bet? I guess this song will be number one." Sun Mengjie was doing it to give Meng Dongguo face, and secondly, this poem was also really wonderful.

Zhang Huo said: "Okay, let's bet. Then I...I will also bet that this poem will win the championship!"

Seeing the two people playing tricks, everyone laughed. In fact, many people agreed. Meng Dongguo is a professional in this. Can he be bad at writing poems? The skill is displayed there, and Meng Dongguo's identity is here, he is the leader of the Writers Association, his reputation is not small in the capital, and he is a veteran. Even if this poem is not as dominant in the world as they boast, it is still of high quality, and it is basically impossible to escape the first place.

Meng Dongguo went down.

The second one was Shen Anbang. As soon as he took the stage, he picked up what Meng Dongguo said, "Chairman Meng said he was under pressure, but in fact I am the one who is under the most pressure. Following Chairman Meng, isn't this deliberately making me look embarrassed?" Forget it, I have to say it anyway, I’m not good at ancient poetry, so I’ll write a modern poem to cheer you up.”

After a minute, he finished.

Everyone was startled and applauded.

Meng Dongguo praised: "This little Shen, after being humble for a long time, turns out to have such a good work."

Other people in the Writers' Association didn't seem to expect that a writer of romance novels could actually write such good modern poetry. It may not be as good as Meng Dongguo's, but he is still competing for second or third place.

The third person to take the stage was a young writer, but he did not say a poem, but a poem. Although the lyrics were not sung with music, the lyrics were still lively, elegant, and very artistic.

The fourth one was Little Red Mushroom. As soon as she came up, she started talking, "Let me tell you first, I don't know poetry and songs. I write fairy tales. I will compose a fable for everyone today." "She started telling the story. The story was personified, turning the moon into a human being. It was quite beautiful.

One by one.

One person after another.

There are no good people who can join the Writers' Association, and they have all shown their abilities.

The final performer was Da Lei. His poems have always been famous for their majestic power, just like his personality, so today’s Mid-Autumn Festival theme really hindered his performance. He said a poem, but the effect was not very satisfactory, because The applause was not too loud. But maybe because of its strong literary nature, this poem may have caused more reflection and aftertaste. Meng Dongguo and several teachers from the Writers Association still spoke highly of it after the thunder came down.

"Dalei, the words are very good."

"Don't worry about applause or anything like that, it's great."

"The reason for the lack of applause is that they didn't understand it and didn't study it in depth. If they listened to this poem a few more times and chewed it more, they would really have endless aftertaste."

Dalei said indifferently: "I think it's okay too."

An hour after the poetry meeting, it was already one o'clock in the afternoon.

The host Zhang Huo took the microphone and said, "Thank you to the teachers of the Writers Association for their wonderful works. Today is really an eye-opener. I can't bear to miss a word of every masterpiece. I think all the listeners in front of the radio are also in awe." , then why are you hesitating? Hurry up and vote for your favorite works. Our voting deadline is at two o'clock in the afternoon. The notary just told us that it will take five minutes to confirm the number of votes, so our poetry meeting still has one hour and five minutes. , what to do with the rest of the time? Let’s read about the top-ranked masterpieces on the submission website, and everyone should also listen to the works sent by netizens.”

Female host Sun Mengjie was holding a tablet. There is no signal for mobile phones here, but communication tools such as live broadcast equipment have their own wireless signals, so they can use it. "Ah, I saw it. The one ranked first now is Teacher Meng Dongguo." Let me read out the top ten works."

First: Meng Dongguo, with 23,019 votes.

Second: Shen Anbang, 12,553 votes.

Third: Dong Fei, 9813 votes.

Fourth: Little Red Mushroom, 9681 votes.

Wait, wait, wait, the top ten are all people from the Writers' Association, Meng Dongguo is far ahead, and the third Dong Fei is also a famous modern poet from the Writers' Association, and they are all taken. Even though Da Lei's lyrics didn't get a very strong response from the on-site radio staff, they still ranked tenth, and a netizen's work was only added below at the eleventh place.

The host took it and read it.

This work called Fengqi Yunxi is not bad, but it is just good. There is always a difference between professional and amateur work, and it can be seen in the number of votes.