When Wang Zixu saw the woman, he was shocked.
The woman has medium-length, shoulder-length hair that is slightly curly; she wears an apricot-colored Chinese-style sleeveless long skirt, which is dotted with ink bamboo paintings; at the slit at the hem of the skirt, two extremely long legs appear and disappear, and the legs are wrapped in pearlescent translucent stockings.
The skirt is covered with a thin shirt of the same color, which is light and fluffy. One sleeve falls down, revealing a smooth and white shoulder; silver pendant earrings are exposed under the ends of the hair, long and shining with cold light.
In fact, if you look closely, her facial features are not perfect: her eyes seem to be able to speak, moist and springy, but not too big; the corners of her mouth are raised, pink as cherry, but the color is a bit too light; her forehead is also a little wider compared to the beauty on the TV.
But when these are combined together, their respective shortcomings are eliminated, just like Bach's Harpsichord Concerto No. 2 in D minor. Each part is trying its best to highlight its own characteristics, but maintaining the right balance.
In other words, she cannot be simply described as "beautiful". Whether it is her smooth shoulders or her strong long legs, they all burst out with strong vitality. Rather than saying "beauty", she is the embodiment of libido.
Wang Zixu seemed to see an elk appear in the office. It first turned Wang Zixu over with its huge antlers, then jumped on the table, trampling the room into a mess, and papers flying in the sky.
“Hello? Hello? Hello!”
Wang Zixu suddenly realized that he saw the big face of the middle-aged man in front of him, who was staring at him suspiciously.
"I asked you when Director Mei will be back?"
Prince Xu woke up from his dream and replied: "In two hours."
"So long?"
The man frowned, looked down at his watch, and asked the woman, "Talented Ning, do you want to wait?"
At this time, the woman was already sitting on the sofa, with her hands on her knees, dimples appearing on her face, and she looked obedient:
"Of course I have to wait, I came to Xihe just to see Senior Mei, how long should I wait? It’s all worth it.”
The middle-aged man said: “Okay, just wait a moment, I’ll go do something else and come back later.”
After the man left, only Wang Zixu and the woman were left in the office.
Wang Zixu opened the "Speech at the On-site Meeting to Celebrate the Completion of the New Dream Project and Optimize the Business Environment" on his computer, dragged it up and down, and looked at it casually, while peeking at the woman.
The woman seemed to notice that he was looking at her, and her eyes drifted over. Wang Zixu quickly turned to look at the screen, staring hard at the speech script on the screen, mumbling words, as if he wanted to eat the computer.
She is very beautiful, just like a painting in the Louvre. Wang Zixu can stop for a long time to appreciate the beauty of this painting, but he will never be crazy enough to want to possess it.
Only extremely wealthy people will want to buy the paintings they like when visiting the Louvre. That is the willfulness of wealthy people. The prince wouldn't even dare to think about it. It is precisely because of his humbleness that he can better maintain a simple appreciation of beautiful things.
He couldn’t help but have a delusion: if it were in a knight’s novel, this woman would be the real heroine, tricking countless Don Quixotes around like a clown, and then wearing a ring presented by the most powerful knight.
As for Wang Zixu, he is neither a knight nor Don Quixote. He may be Sancho, the attendant beside Don Quixote.
“My name is Ning Chunyan,” the woman suddenly introduced herself, “I have some connection with your Director Mei, and I came here specially to see him this time.”
"Oh." Wang Zixu's voice was dry.
Ning Chunyan asked: "Is Director Mei still writing poetry?"
Wang Zixu said: "I don't know. I am not from this office."
Ning Chunyan opened his eyes slightly, as if he wanted to ask why he was sitting here.
Wang Zixu said nothing. He didn't know why he was sitting here. Putting his hands on his legs, he felt that he must be looking foolish in her eyes.
The office is very quiet, and the wall clock on the wall is ticking. Time is hard. That call still hasn't come through.
Wang Zixu didn’t want to talk to this woman anymore, but finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and said, “Are you the Ningchun Yan whose novel was published in “September”?
Ning Chunyan covered his mouth, his eyes moving: “Have you read “September”?”
Wang Zixu murmured Said: "September" is the top pure literature magazine in China."
Ning Chunyan laughed "Huhu" and said, "I thought no one read pure literature now."
Her smile was like light raindrops on the spring pool. Wang Zixu quickly turned his head away from her and continued to read the speech silently.
"September" is a prestigious domestic purely literary journal. Publishing articles in it is the only way to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Wang Zixu read "September" carefully, and the words about Ning Chunyan made a particularly deep impression on him.
When he saw this name, he immediately thought of Li Bai's "Heaven and earth represent the reverse journey of all things; time represents the passers-by of hundreds of generations", leaving him with endless reveries.
He originally thought that Ning Chunyan was a kind old woman, with wisdom revealed in her wrinkled eyes, but he did not expect that she was so young and even looked younger than him.
He understood why he thought Ningchun Banquet was so beautiful. The literary temperament mixed with her body is a special attack on people like him, and her weaknesses are 100% broken.
There was a voice outside the door, and then the door was pushed open. The fragile tranquility was broken for a moment. A man walked in and said in a loud voice:
"What a fate! I didn't expect this to happen. What a coincidence, Ning Talent has also returned to Xihe! ”
That man is short and thin, with sunglasses on his head and neat hair. He looks high-spirited, but there is a faint feeling of greasiness in his bones.
Ning Chunyan saw the man, stood up, put his legs together, tilted his head and said, "Shen Qingfeng?"
Shen Qingfeng laughed and stretched out his hand. Ning Chunyan hesitated for a second and touched him with his fingertips, but Shen Qingfeng held it with both hands.
"Ningcai Jurchen is more beautiful than she looks in the photos! Rare visitors, rare visitors! Welcome back to Xihe!"
Wang Zixu stared blankly at the scene in front of him, feeling a bit like a dream. Because he also knew Shen Qingfeng.
This one is even more heavyweight.
Shen Qingfeng used to be a radio host. After resigning, he opened a B&B and published a book called "Girls, Holding Hands", which became a hit. He then published one book a year, dominating the rankings every time, forming a cultural spectacle.
On the bedside of Wang Zixu’s bedroom, he always has Proust’s “In Search of Lost Time” and Faulkner’s “Absalom!” Absalom! ", Llosa's "Long Talk in the Bar". On the wife's side, Shen Qingfeng's "Sister, Hold Little Hands" and "Run!" are played all year round. Hakimi" "Hallelujah is so cool".
He glanced at his wife’s book and never read it again, which made him feel sick. But my wife read it with great interest.
Your wife always criticizes him, you look down on this and that every day, I think Shen Qingfeng is more educated than you, otherwise why are others so angry? What qualifications do you have to dislike others?
Wang Zixu said, you are judging by results. Success doesn't necessarily mean you have talent. Anyway, I didn't see any beneficial elements in Shen Qingfeng's books.
The wife rolled her eyes and said that success does not necessarily mean you have talent, but you must have money. If you are not successful, you must not be talented.
Wang Zixu could not refute him.
Shen Qingfeng sat on the sofa, crossed his legs high, and had a family dinner with Ning Chun.
“You are also from Xihe, and I am also from Xihe, but you are a member of the Provincial Writers Association, and I am the vice president of the Municipal Writers Association. In the future, we still need to communicate more in our work to better serve our fellow writers.”
Ning Chunyan chuckled, and after she finished laughing, she said: "I am a casual person, not very good at leadership work. If you want to communicate with me, I can't say anything useful."
Her answer was decent and gentle, but it contained a soft nail. Seeing that the beauty was not interested, Shen Qingfeng started a new topic.
He added: "We are all people flying around the country. Today we suddenly met. How can this not be fate? If it is fate, we have to drink. Go to my B&B in the evening. I’ll treat you to a drink and let you stay in a B&B for free. Just sign your name on the wall when you leave.” Ning Chunyan declined his invitation again, saying that she wanted to go home and stay with her parents.
Shen Qingfeng said in surprise, has Ning Cainnv not taken her parents to a big city yet? I have houses in major tourist cities across the country, and my parents can live wherever they want. Sometimes I can't find them.
Ning Chunyan said lightly, how can I be as rich as Mr. Shen?
After hitting several nails one after another, Shen Qingfeng didn’t know what to say. The office also became quiet, and the sound of the clock returned to the office.
Wang Zixu regretted it. He regretted why he had taken the job and had to sit here.
He had had many fantasies about the literary world before, but he did not expect that the literary world would come to him intuitively in such an unexpected way.
One is a best-selling author and the other is a pure literary writer. Everyone gathered in the office of No. 1 Penzhuang in Xihe. They are all representative figures, but the atmosphere at the scene is so uncomfortable.
He began to pray, hoping that the little housekeeper would call him quickly and save him from this embarrassing atmosphere.
"That's right." Shen Qingfeng scrolled through his cell phone, suddenly turned away and said, "Does Ning Cainv know about Lin Feng from our Writers Association?"
The name Lin Feng made Wang Zixu straighten up quickly.
Ning Chunyan said: "It seems that he writes reportage, right? He has published novels in "Novel Monthly", I remember."
Shen Qingfeng said: "Yes, this person has always been a bit pretentious. But something very interesting happened yesterday."
Ning Chunyan tilted his head, waiting for him to continue. Shen Qingfeng continued:
“Yesterday he went to a unit for inspection, drank with a clerk and fell down. He went home and went crazy. His wife kicked him out of the house. He recited Li Bai’s "Xing" on the street. "The road is difficult", do you know? ”
Ning Chunyan’s beautiful eyes widened: “Why?”