When Wang Zixu came home, his wife had not come home yet. Maybe she was caught up in her work in the flower shop. The loudspeaker of the supermarket across the street shouted discount news, and the dark and empty room echoed, and the last tender touch of the sunset leaked through the window.
He left a note that said, "I'm going out to socialize. I'll bring you some when I get home." Before going out, I thought that this was not a good idea, so I took out the vegetables from the refrigerator and cut them up, and took out the chicken to thaw.
He and Lin Feng made an appointment to meet at the "Old Village Chief". This is the holy place for late-night snacks in the hearts of Xihe people. But the reason why it became a holy place has been forgotten by everyone. They only know that the prices here are 15% more expensive than elsewhere.
When Wang Zixu graduated from high school, he and his classmates often came here for late-night snacks. Many years later, he didn’t expect that Lin Feng would still make an appointment here. The inertia of life operates equally on everyone.
The blue-black sky marks the complete nightfall. It’s late at night in early summer, and it’s already past seven in the evening. The streets are lively, vendors set up grills and fans, smoke rises from the restaurants, and animal fats emit a refreshing aroma from the burning charcoal fire.
The two sat down on the street, immersing themselves in the fireworks of the world, with the blue sky above their heads. Lin Feng ordered several kinds of skewers, fried rice noodles, grilled eggplant, fried tofu, and a beer. His treat.
Before the dishes were served, Lin Feng began to apologize again: "I went back and thought about Shen Qingfeng's incident today, and I really feel sorry for you. He may have regarded you as 'my person'."
Wang Zixu touched him with a beer bottle: "How did your conflict get to this point? It's just that Because we are fighting for seats?"
Lin Feng sighed and said, "I didn't explain it to you last time. We just had a casual chat today, so we just had a drink."
"Well, we just chatted casually."
Lin Feng said: "This matter is related to the upcoming election of the Literary and Art Association. You know, right? My teacher, Li Tingfang, the president of the Xihe Literary and Art Association, will not work in the next term."
Hearing this name, the prince holding the wine bottle was stunned: "Li Tingfang? Which Li Tingfang? Is it that Li Tingfang?"
Lin Feng opened his mouth wide: "Which Li Tingfang is there? It's that Li Tingfang, and you don't know it?"
The name Li Tingfang appears in the pages of the history of modern and contemporary literature. She is a representative writer of modern and contemporary Chinese avant-garde literature, not only in literature, but also in film, television, painting and other aspects. Literary history has rated her as a "wonderful woman".
After all, that was at the beginning of reform and opening up, and even strange women will grow old one day. Wang Zixu thought that she had passed away long ago, but he didn't expect that she was actually here.
Hearing the news about her with his own ears made him extremely surprised, just like the snow-capped mountains seen from thousands of miles away were in front of him in one step.
Wang Zixu asked: "Why does a writer of Li Tingfang's level serve as the president of the literary association in a small place like ours?"
Lin Feng sighed: "Yes, with my age The teacher's works and qualifications can be ranked high in the National Writers Association, let alone the Provincial Writers Association. However, the old man is indifferent to fame and fortune and doesn't care about it at all. She has a house in Donghai, but she can't get used to it, so she moved back to her hometown and settled here.
"The senior leader Shen Jianqiu has a history with her. You know, the senior leader values culture and education, so he invited her to come out and sit in the Literary and Art Association, as a standard-bearer and benchmark for Xihe's literary and art circles, and to set a cultural example for us in Xihe. The teacher also generously agreed."
The prince humbly admired her. He asked: "How old is Teacher Li?"
Lin Feng said: "She will be seventy this year. She has been the president of the Literary Association for five years. Think about it, at such an old age, even if she wants to carry the flag, she can't carry it."
Wang Zi nodded: "So the competition for the next president is fierce."
Lin Feng looked up to the sky and sighed: "Once the teacher steps down, the momentum of Xihe's literary world will probably be reduced by ten to five."
Wang Zixu asked: "How did you know Teacher Li Tingfang?"
When talking about this topic, Lin Feng's face glowed red:
"I used to be an unknown clerk in Xihe, but my heart I have always had a literary dream in my life. I have been submitting articles to "Xihe Literature and Art", withdrawing them and submitting them again, which made their editorial department very annoyed.
"They called me specifically to tell me not to submit anymore, and they spent half of every month rejecting my manuscripts. I told them that there was no need to reject the manuscript. If the manuscript didn’t work, it would just be thrown into the trash. I would just submit it again.
"Maybe it was the enthusiasm that moved Teacher Li. When she first took office, she called me over and asked me if I was very passionate about literature and would like to learn more from her. Of course I agreed. So I became Teacher Li's close disciple."
Wang Zixu was sincerely happy for him, but he couldn't help but compare himself to himself, and felt that his personality was too pretentious. Maybe it was because he didn't have such a persistent spirit that he couldn't wait until his own dawn.
He raised the wine bottle: "If you never forget it, there will be repercussions. Brother Jing Lin."
Lin Feng also raised the bottle: "If you never forget it, there will be repercussions. Brother Zixu, you are so talented, and your repercussions will definitely come."
The two took a swig, and Lin Feng burped. The waiter came over with the plate, said that the dishes were all served, and scratched a few lines on the menu with his thumbnail.
The roasted eggplant is dotted with oil, and the garlic has an aggressive aroma; the tofu is fried until golden brown, oily and crispy; the mutton skewers are dark and red inside, and the cumin wraps up the smell. The two of them each picked up a skewer and placed it horizontally in their mouths. When they chewed it, it was crispy and chewy, filling their mouths with fragrance.
Lin Feng wiped his mouth and said: "So I started to learn writing from the teacher. I used to be like a headless fly catching a blind eye, just relying on my own feelings, but the teacher pointed me out and I saw the way.
"I don't have any talent. My talent is to be open-minded and studious, and to work hard. I read whatever the teacher asked me to do. I gradually became more literary, and the teacher said you try submitting articles again.
"Then my article will be published in "Xihe Literature and Art", and I will get 10 out of 10, and even be published in a higher-level magazine. The teacher said, you have learned it. "
Wang Zixu said: "Your spirit and experience are very inspiring. Dry. "
"Do it. ”
After the two drank one bottle, they both started drinking another bottle.
Lin Feng said: "The current candidate for vice president is basically Shen Qingfeng and I. In terms of reputation, I can't even catch up with him, but in terms of practical work, he is still not good. I have handled a lot of the work of the Cultural Association in the past few years, and he basically doesn't care."
Wang Zixu said: "You are humble. Shen Qingfeng is up. Within a few years, he suddenly became famous and invested a lot in marketing. After considering the traffic that followed the crowd, he actually didn’t have much left. "
Lin Feng shook his head: "But who can care less about the traffic that followed the crowd? "
The deeper the conversation, the more intense the wine. The two of them were drunk unknowingly. When Wang Zixu was thinking seriously about Lin Feng and the literary world, a strange yet familiar voice came from behind.
“Zixu? Is that you?”
…
Ning Chunyan’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the keyboard.
She put her phone next to the computer. The only sounds in the room were the fan and the keyboard.
She was fascinated by typing, her lips moved, and while reading the sentences on the paper, strings of characters also flowed out from the keyboard.
The phone vibrated. Ning Chunyan exited the flow state and leaned over to look at her phone. When she saw the name on the screen, a smile appeared on her lips.