My house collapsed from the top, and the system just came?

He Zhixing and Zhao Shu, the two bosses of Qingbei and Yangyin, were originally very harmonious.

But at this moment, there is a faint contradiction.

Zhao Shu looked at He Zhixing with anger in his eyes: "Old He, you are just talking nonsense. How come Wang Mo understands literature?"

He Zhixing: "You don't believe me?"

Zhao Shu: "Do you think I believe it?"

He Zhixing: "I feel trustworthy."

Zhao Shu: "I'm sorry, you feel wrong."

At this moment, Zhao Shu didn't like anything about He Zhixing.

If you don't let a good young man like Wang Mo go to Yangyin to further his studies and continue to develop his potential, it will be a waste of his talent and talent.

Because Zhao Shu believes that if he is well trained, Wang Mo will most likely become an international pianist. It is not impossible that inspiration will burst out one day in the future, write a good piano piece that can be recognized internationally, and become China's first international pianist.

What an honor!

Zhao Shu got excited thinking about it.

But in order to prevent Wang Mo from going to Yangyin, He Zhixing said that Wang Mo knew literature. Isn't this nonsense?

He Zhixing snorted coldly and wanted to say something.

But in the end, he held back. The old man Zhao Shu already knew too much and couldn't reveal any more secrets.

At present, only he, Tang Xuanyuan and a few other people know about Wang Mo's literary skills.

The more people know, the worse it is.

However, Zhao Shu kept nagging in his ear, and He Zhixing had no choice but to say: "It's not that I won't tell you, there is a secret involved. Let me ask you, can you keep the secret?"

Zhao Shu raised his head: "Of course you can!"

He Zhixing smiled mysteriously: "I can do it too."

Zhao Shu: "..."

He took a deep breath, resisted the urge to beat He Zhixing into a pig's head, and then looked at Wang Mo: "Xiao Wang, let me ask you, do you understand literature?"

Wang Mo smiled naively: "I understand a little."

Zhao Shu laughed loudly: "Lao He, did you hear that? Xiao Wang said that he only understands a little bit. Don't you know what he means by even a little understanding?"

He Zhixing sneered: "Xiao Wang, let me ask you, do you know how to play the piano?"

Wang Mo smiled shyly: "I understand a little bit."

Zhao Shu: "..."

He felt that there was a prehistoric power surging in his body, and he wanted to crush the old man and the young man in front of him.

Who are these people?

He Zhixing patted Zhao Shu on the shoulder and said with a smile: "Old Zhao, I just said that Xiao Wang has some secrets, and it will not do you any good if you know too much. But I really didn't lie. Xiao Wang does have extraordinary talent in literature. Well, don’t go to those music events later, come with me to the literary exchange meeting. I’ll let Xiao Wang show off his skills a little bit, what do you think?”

Zhao Shu blinked and nodded in approval.

In this literary exchange held by students from Qingbei, every participant is a literary leader from several top universities. If Wang Mo can overwhelm everyone at such exchange meetings, he can indeed be regarded as having profound attainments in literature.

Wang Mo, on the other hand, was stunned for a moment: "Mr. He, this can't be done..."

Brother!

My literary talent is limited to the "100 Modern Poems" given by the system, okay?

Who knows what topics the students will discuss at the next literary exchange meeting?

European and American literature?

Classics?

modernism?

Postmodernism?

Romantic style?

If you want to come forward rashly, the probability of being embarrassed is as high as 99%.

He Zhixing thought that Wang Mo didn't bother to take action, so he smiled and said, "Just play with the children."

Wang Mo was about to cry and speechless. He was just a child himself.

He Zhixing continued: "Originally, I just wanted you to feel the atmosphere of Qingbei today, but in order to convince Lao Zhao, you should reveal something a little bit. If you are worried about your identity, you can remain anonymous later. Anyway, this kind of Literary exchange meetings often involve anonymous exchanges, and there is no need to worry about looking down on each other because of the gap in literary level."

"Oh well."

Wang Mo could only nod.

At the same time, he thought to himself: I still have a silver treasure chest and a bronze treasure chest that are useless.

If you really encounter an uncontrollable situation later, you can open a treasure chest at worst.

Thinking of this, he felt confident.

…

In today's Qingbei event, a piano master appeared.

In today's information age, word spread quickly about Wang Mo's piano playing.

It's just that there are almost no clear videos leaked, only a few videos where no one can be seen and only piano playing can be heard.

Because when Wang Mo was playing the piano, not many people entered the classroom.

When everyone entered the classroom later, they were first shocked by Wang Mo's performance and forgot to take pictures; second, they were intimidated by He Zhixing and Zhao Shu's majesty and did not dare to take pictures.

But these few videos with only sound still shocked countless students who knew music.

"You play really well."

"This level is so awesome."

"I heard that the piano player is very handsome, and he is still very young. This simply fulfills all my fantasies about a piano prince."

"Is there really a piano prince in this world?"

"I urgently need all the information about Piano Prince, thank you very much!"

"..."

At this moment, in the lecture theater of the literary exchange meeting.

Many participating students were somewhat depressed.

It was obviously a literary exchange meeting, but who would have thought that all the heat would be taken away by a strange piano prince?

Even now, there are still many people on campus who come here to see the true face of the "Piano Prince".

It overshadowed the originally lively "literary exchange meeting".

never mind.

Exchange meetings still have to be held.

However, more than ten minutes after the activity started, the classroom suddenly became noisy, and everyone looked at the door in unison.

outside the door.

He Zhixing, Zhao Shu, and Wang Mo returned.

But this time, almost every gaze was focused on Wang Mo.

"It's him."

"He is back!"

"The Piano Prince."

"Oh my gosh, he's so handsome."

He Zhixing coughed slightly, and the originally noisy classroom became silent again.

At this time, He Zhixing smiled and said: "You continue with the activities, and we are here to listen. Especially in front of Professor Zhao, everyone must not lose face in studying literature."

After hearing these words, the students had to take it seriously.

Even Wang Mo sat upright and listened carefully...

After listening for a while, Wang Mo nodded secretly. It was indeed an event from a top university. Every student's speech was confident and high-spirited, and the content was colorful and thought-provoking.

The theme of this exchange meeting is: Our Generation.

Things get complicated when literature involves a certain generation.

Some people say: Our generation is enjoying happiness, so many people choose to lie down.

Some people say: Our generation is in a period of great change, and it is a good opportunity to fight hard.

Some people say: The minds of our generation are degenerating and degenerating, and the situation is serious.

Some people say: Our generation is a vigorous generation that has the courage to say no to tradition.

Whatever you say.

Each has his own reason.

Since it was a literary exchange meeting, the host finally said: "The beauty of literature is that we can use words to record our thoughts, let ourselves read them, let others observe them, and let future generations experience them. Our generation, What kind of responsibility and burden does it carry? Is it hope? Is it despair? Is it degradation or prosperity? Is it progress or regression? No matter what content or emotion you want to express, everyone can show it in words.

Today, the way we show it is: poetry.

Students who participated in the exchange meeting can use a short poem to record their feelings.

Ancient poetry, yes.

Modern poetry, too.

Of course, as usual, we still use the anonymous method. After writing our own poems on the slips of paper, we put all the slips in a box. Then I will read each person's work.

The top three with the highest number of votes are finally selected, and these three can go on stage to announce their identities. "

Wen Wu is the first.

There is no second in martial arts.

This kind of anonymous communication, and the final selection of the top three anonymously, has always been very popular.

If what you write this time does not work well, no one will laugh at it. In this way, people will have no psychological burden.

But if what you write this time gets high votes, you can enjoy the applause and admiration of everyone.

After hearing the rules, Wang Mo nodded secretly.

Of course, especially when he heard that the method of communication this time was "poetry", his heart skipped a beat.

It seems.

No need to open treasure chests.

Soon, a female classmate gave everyone a piece of paper and a pen - except He Zhixing and Zhao Shu.

Finished sending the note.

The host said loudly: "Everyone can start creating freely. The time is limited to twenty minutes."

In the lecture theater.

There were more than thirty students participating in the literary exchange meeting. At this moment, everyone lowered their heads, holding pens and thinking deeply.

In order not to put pressure on Wang Mo, He Zhixing and Zhao Shu deliberately sat several seats away.

At this moment, Wang Mo was in trouble.

He rubbed Wu Xin, his eyes filled with confusion.

student.

Our generation.

Emotions, future, ideals.

When these keywords were combined, a poem flashed into his mind almost instantly.

But he hesitated: "Do you really want to take out this poem?"

Without him, the influence of this poem is too great. Wang Mo felt that taking it out at a literary exchange meeting was a bit like using an anti-aircraft cannon to swat mosquitoes.

But apart from this poem, I can't think of any poem that is better than it.

"I don't want to think about it anymore, just this one!"

I struggled for a few minutes.

Wang Mo no longer hesitated, spread out the paper, and wrote a few words on it.

Done!

Not far away, although He Zhizhang and Zhao Shu sat some distance apart, their attention was always on Wang Mo.

Especially Zhao Shu, after seeing Wang Mo writing, he finally couldn't help his curiosity, stretched his neck to look, and at the same time muttered in his heart: "I still don't believe it, does Xiao Wang really understand literature?"

While muttering, his eyes happened to glance at the text written by Wang Mo.

At that moment, Zhao Shu's eyes widened into copper bells.