Low Key Star
Chapter 24: [024] I wrote
Chapter 24 [024] Written by me
Liu Chan and Wang Shanshan have known Lin Yiran since junior high school. They knew that she had always liked poetry, so they were not surprised that she had such an idea. They just shook their heads after thinking about it.
Liu Chandao: "It's a bit difficult. Music is better than singing, how is poetry better? Writing poetry?"
Wang Shanshan said with a smile: "Writing poems is definitely not good. I can't memorize more poems than anyone else, right?"
Lin still knew that this idea was not very practical, so he smiled and didn't care, but suddenly caught a glimpse of Zhang Yang staring at him, with a strange expression on his face, and asked strangely, "What are you looking at?"
Zhang Yang’s memories related to film and television music in his previous life have been sealed, leaving nothing, but Lin still mentioned it just now, and he discovered that there are fish that slipped through the net. Poisonous hands, this is probably because it belongs to cultural promotion rather than entertaining the public.
"Actually, poetry can really record programs."
Anyway, it was just chatting, Zhang Yang didn't care, seeing the three girls staring at him suspiciously, he simply explained the mechanism of the poetry conference.
Wang Shanshan was a little disappointed and said, "What's the point of that?"
Liu Chan nodded and said: "Flying Flower Token and Solitaire are interesting, why not just keep playing with these two."
Zhang Yang shook his head and said: "Music is for the talent show, in the final analysis it is for profit, but poetry is different. There is almost no market for ancient poetry in modern society. If someone does this, it can only be to promote traditional culture. If this is the case, it can't be too difficult, and Everyone has blind spots in knowledge, even if it is "Moonlight in front of the window", some people must not be able to answer the next sentence... You can't think that all students understand this because our school has always had poetry classes, and there are no people who have attended school Not a few. "
"It seems to make sense."
Both Liu Chan and Wang Shanshan nodded, and Lin still seemed to be thinking.
It was a small surprise that a few fish slipped through the net, but it was useless, because it was almost worthless. Except for the official promotion of traditional culture, it is basically impossible for people to be willing to shoot such a program.
The next two days were busy and peaceful. The final exam started on July 3rd, and the exam was completed on the 5th. Then there was another day of class, and the teachers of each subject assigned homework in turn.
summer holiday.
Until the end of class on the last day, Lin still didn't ask Zhang Yang why he hung up on her phone, Zhang Yang naturally couldn't take the initiative to tell her that I was in the hospital at the time, it was my sister who hung up on you, I already scolded her, etc. , It's a pity, I feel that such a good reason I thought was wasted.
Parents and Zhang Wei's holiday was two days later, and the official holiday was not until the 9th. Zhang Yang seized the opportunity of these two days and finished dictating the first five chapters of "Shooting the Condors" in an Internet cafe, with a total of 100,000 words. Then print it out and prepare to take it back to my hometown to show the old man.
After a day's rest on the 9th, the family of four got on the bus to the suburbs early in the morning on the 10th.
The old man Zhang Cong, whose style name is Shilun, was born in 1925. His life experience is not so exciting, but he has also witnessed the decades of changes in China and even the world.
The ancestors of the Zhang family used to be rich and belonged to a rich family at that time, but the old man was always poor. He was born in Huizhou and came to Luzhou with his family when he was eight or nine years old. In China, the middle age settled down in Qingcheng.
He studied at a young age, conceited of his talent, but he was poor all his life. After knowing his destiny, he resolutely left the podium where he had worked hard for half his life and resigned to write. Only then did he gain a certain reputation under the pen name "Luo Shengyong", and was known as one of the four martial arts masters at that time. The head of everyone.
Six years ago, his dependent wife passed away. The old man sealed his pen and said, "I will never write another word."
There are three sons under his knees, none of whom can be called promising. The eldest Zhang Shouren died early, the second Zhang Shouyi taught, and the third Zhang Shouyi worked in agriculture. Fortunately, although he is not very rich, he has no worries about food and clothing. It is much better than when he was young.
The bus stopped beside the road. The two-story building of the former residence of the uncle Zhang Shouren was on the side of the road. Behind it was a large orchard and a field where the wheat had been harvested and only stubble remained.
Next to the orchard is a half-acre flower field, which was opened up by grandma after she was assigned to the field. After she passed away, the old man took care of it. At the beginning of July, roses, jasmine, peony, hosta, daylilies, lilies... white, red and yellow are blooming. phase bloom.
There is a pergola under the grape arbor next to the two-story building. In the shed, there are mats and desks. He is famous for his writing. The half-Chinese old man is wearing a short-sleeved shirt, big pants, and a towel on his shoulder. He is sucking and sucking. Eat watermelon.
"grandfather!"
Zhang Wei yelled, and ran over happily. The old man followed his reputation and waved the watermelon in his hand at his granddaughter, but inadvertently, the watermelon fell and hit his face. The juice, hurriedly picked it up, and wiped his face with a towel.
"Hahaha…"
Zhang smiled so hard that he couldn't straighten his back, "Oh, you don't have to make such a move if you don't want to give me food. I dare not **** it from you."
"Hey, how do you talk to your grandpa?"
Zhang Shouyi also couldn't help laughing, but when he saw that his daughter was too arrogant, he still reprimanded him a few words, and then the old man waved his hands and scolded: "You are the only one who has a lot of rules. When I was young, I peed on your father's face and didn't see you talking about the rules?"
Zhang Shouyi said with some embarrassment: "When did that happen, why are you still talking about it?"
While talking, she carried big and small bags into the yard, Fang Qianxue followed, Zhang Yang came under the pergola on crutches, found a stool and sat down, listening to the old man's questioning.
The old man has always been strict in educating his children. Zhang Yang remembers his mother talking about this once, saying, "Your father is so smart, but he was disciplined by your grandpa. People who know the rules too often have no great prospects."
—Probably because of this reason, although Zhang Yang’s family is a strict mother and a loving father, when the brothers and sisters occasionally behave out of line, the mother is more indulgent than the father. For example, if Zhang Yang goes to an Internet cafe, if the father finds out, it will definitely not be so easy to pass the test , he wouldn't reprimand or stop him forcefully, but would keep nagging about not being able to do this and so on.
It is said that it is easy to dote on generations, but the old man has been extremely strict with his two grandsons since they were young, but he is very doting on his only granddaughter. But in the words of my mother, this is actually a manifestation of patriarchy, because the granddaughter I didn't have too much hope, but spoiled me instead.
The old man wiped his face, greeted his granddaughter to eat watermelon, got up and washed his hands in the basin under the grape arbor outside the arbor, and at the same time began to ask Zhang Yang: how was the exam, whether the hospitalization delayed the review, whether there were any difficulties and confusion, how is the relationship with classmates...
After Zhang Yang answered one by one, Zhang Wei had already gnawed two pieces of melons. Then the old man asked him how the injury on his foot was, and when the plaster cast would be removed, so that Zhang Yang could eat melons, and said, "Forget about you guys." It's time to come over in a few days, and there are two towns in the well next to it, so I can cut it if there is not enough food."
Zhang Yang had plaster on his feet, and it was inconvenient to sit on the mat. Zhang Wei handed him a piece and asked him to sit on the stool and chew.
Zhang Yang handed her the document bag he had been holding all along. It was a transparent plastic bag he found at home. Zhang Wei glanced at the densely printed text, and asked strangely: "What is this?"
Zhang Yang gnawed on the melon and said vaguely: "Don't worry about it, show it to grandpa."
Zhang Wei pouted and handed it to the old man, who also asked, "What is this?"
"Take a look first."
The old man glanced through the file bag first, wiped his hands on the towel, and found that it would be better not to wipe it, so he simply got up to wash his hands again, washed the towel by the way, let his granddaughter dry it, and then sat down again At the other end of the desk, the file bag was opened.
The 100,000 words were a thick stack, like a book. When the old man put on his glasses and looked at it carefully, he saw the striking title of the book printed in italics and black: "The Legend of the Condor Heroes"
The first snow storm
The mighty water of the Qiantang River bypasses Niujia Village in Lin'an Prefecture, Liangzhe West Road day and night endlessly, and flows eastward into the sea. A row of dozens of black cypress trees by the river...
A page of A4 paper is about 2,000 words. The old man read it for more than ten minutes. When Zhang Shouyi and Fang Qianxue came back, he was still reading that page.
Zhang Shouyi sat down at the table, Fang Qianxue sat on the stool with Zhang Yang, Zhang Wei was busy getting melons for his parents, Zhang Shouyi took it in his hand, but was not in a hurry to eat, looked at the old man, and asked: "Dad, what are you looking at?"
The old man ignored his son, raised his head and asked his grandson, "Where did you come from?"
Zhang Yang ate two pieces of melon, washed his hands and mouth, and sat back on the stool with a cane again, with a worried expression on his face, he said: "I wrote this, I want you to open your eyes and correct it, to see if it can be published...what?" Sample?"
(end of this chapter)
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