Reborn in the world, starting from looking for relatives for Zheng Juan

After hearing Zhou Rong say that the poem she read before was written by her and not by Feng Huacheng, everyone realized why she had reacted so violently before.

Zhou Bingyi, Hao Dongmei and Zhou Bingkun felt that Zhou Rong must have thought that everyone mistakenly mistook her poem for Feng Huacheng, so they agreed.

Only Lu Tian knew clearly Zhou Rong's inner struggle at this time.

Previously, in Zhou Rong's eyes, Feng Huacheng was the Everest of poetry, unreachable.

On the first day of the new year, Lu Tian's song "Chrysanthemum Terrace" made her have some doubts about Feng Huacheng's height.

But this time, the poems I wrote were regarded as Feng Huacheng's poems and were also praised. It can be seen that Feng Huacheng's poems are not necessarily so unattainable.

As the old saying goes: There is no first in literature, no second in martial arts.

There is no objective evaluation standard for the quality of literary works.

Modern poetry is even more like this.

Before saying that the poem was written by themselves, Dongmei, Bingkun and Lu Tian all thought it was definitely a masterpiece. From this point of view, in many cases, the quality of a poem written by a poet has more to do with reputation than with reputation.

Not the standard.

Even if a poem written by oneself bears Feng Huacheng's name, it can still become a classic praised by everyone.

Thinking of this, Zhou Rong's heart suddenly felt as if something had been taken away from her, and she suddenly became empty and nagging.

Seeing that his sister was silent, Zhou Bingyi explained:

"Zhou Rong, I didn't say yes just because I thought the "Fireworks" you read was a poem by Feng Huacheng.

Even if I said it was you who did it from the beginning, I would still feel good about it."

"Yes, sister.

You also know that I have never been interested in that poet. I think the poet is flashy, so naturally I will not say anything good about him.

I think that many poets are more famous than powerful. If they write one or two poems well, they will be criticized by many.

Not all of Feng Huacheng’s poems can match those written by you.” Zhou Bingkun also consoled him.

Seeing this, Lu Tian knew that he couldn't say a word, so he said:

"Zhou Rong, in fact, literature, especially poetry, needs decades or even longer to pass through the baptism of time before it is more suitable to judge.

Qianlong wrote more than 20,000 poems in those years. When he wrote them, no one said they were not good.

Now, unfortunately, he has become the object of ridicule.

Therefore, we must respect poets and their works.

But they are not regarded as unattainable figures, and their works are not impeccable.

Whether a poem is good or not can be objectively evaluated decades or even hundreds of years later."

Lu Tian's words were concise and concise, causing everyone to nod their heads.

Of course Zhou Rong could understand the meaning of Lu Tian's words, but this realization came too suddenly, which made her a little flustered.

She needs more time to calm down and digest it slowly.

Thinking of this, Zhou Rong took a pile of letter paper on the table in her hand and said, "Lu Tian, ​​give me this poem too."

"Okay, but the language of this poem is obscure and a bit laughable." Lu Tian responded.

"It's okay, I think it's fine. You guys can continue chatting while I go to the hut to write something."

After saying that, Zhou Rong got off the kang and entered the hut without looking back.

He reached back and closed the door.

Seeing his sister walking away, Zhou Bingkun touched Zhou Bingyi next to him and said, "Brother, what's wrong with my sister? Isn't it just a poem? Why is she so preoccupied all of a sudden?"

"I guess everyone mistakenly thought her poem was written by Feng Huacheng, and they felt unhappy." Zhou Bingyi couldn't figure out why, so he answered casually.

"My sister is getting more and more weird now. How can a poem be like this? What's the matter? Besides, Brother Lu and Sister Juanzi are both here. It's not good to shame her like this in front of guests."

"Bingkun, we don't mind." Lu Tian said.

"As long as you don't mind, Brother Lu Tian, ​​you should tell me Jin Yong's novels. I think Jin Yong's novels are much more interesting than any other poems."

"Bingkun, Jin Yong's novels cannot be explained clearly in one or two sentences. Let me see if I can get a few copies from Hong Kong through some channels and give them to you."

When he heard Lu Tian said that he wanted to get some martial arts novels, Zhou Bingkun's eyes lit up.

"Brother Lu, that's great. I am now learning Allegro and storytelling from my master, but I always feel that the jokes are too old. If I can learn from Jin Yong's martial arts novels, I will definitely be able to write new jokes."

"Bingkun, the books over there are banned now. Just read them secretly. If you make them into jokes, something will happen." Lu Tian whispered.

Zhou Bingkun listened and nodded, "Brother Lu, you are right. It seems that the way I want to go is temporarily unavailable."

"Bingkun, I think the creation of storytelling and allegro should be more derived from China's five thousand years of traditional culture. Only jokes with a historical background and enjoyable stories can be welcomed by the audience. For example, "The Romance of the Three Kingdoms", "Yang

"Family General", "Yue Fei's Biography" and so on."

Lu Tian saw that Zhou Bingkun was very interested in folk art, so he told Zhou Bingkun some storytelling that he knew was very popular in China in the 1980s.

In Lu Tian's view, being together with Zheng Juan meant that, in a sense, he owed Zhou Bingkun some unknown debt.

Although this kind of debt is only known to him.

Therefore, under the premise that he can do it, he will try his best to hope that Zhou Bingkun will have a better life and a smoother road in the future.

After listening to Lu Tian's words, Zhou Bingkun nodded, "Brother Lu, you are right. Folk art comes from folk art and is rooted in Chinese culture, so storytelling must also draw materials from traditional culture.

Listening to your words is better than ten years of reading, and I have learned a lesson."

"Bingkun, if you find something you like and if it feels right, do it. Your brother, your sister, or your Dongmei sister will help you to the best of your ability.

One day, when the environment is no longer so tense, wouldn't it be nice for you to ask your sister to write a notebook for you?"

Zhou Bingyi patted his younger brother on the shoulder.

"Brother, you are right. From now on, I will do as you say." Zhou Bingkun said with a naive smile.

This night, Lu Tian and Zheng Juan stayed until very late before leaving.

After a heart-to-heart talk, Lu Tian deeply felt how precious the Zhou family was.

He felt more and more that he had to do something for this family, even if it was something trivial.

…

After returning home, Zheng Juan boiled some water, then sat next to Lu Tian and said softly: "Brother Tian, ​​you didn't speak during the whole journey. Is there something on your mind?"

Lu Tian took Zheng Juan's hand and said, "Juanzi, I don't have anything to worry about. I just think that the Zhou family is nice and I can move around more in the future."

"Well, I think so. Brother Tian, ​​you are not worried. I am worried now."

Zheng Juan fiddled with her fingers and lowered her head.

"Juanzi, is there anything difficult?" Lu Tian asked.