The two of them couldn't get a word in, and Lin Feng's tongue felt bitter in his mouth. Now that I started chatting with Wang Zixu, I didn’t want to let him go, and said:
“Brother, I’ve been thinking about the “Wild Weeds” you wrote just now. It’s really well written.”
Wang Zixu said: “It’s too much praise.”
Lin Feng said : "I didn't feel it at the time when I read it. I just felt it was quite heavy and heart-wrenching. To tell you the truth, I didn't like it very much when I first read it. I had the urge to put it down several times. Because you wrote it so realistically. The misfortune of middle-aged people's marriage life and the dissipation of love are all too real and heavy. But now that I think about it, I have begun to appreciate the bitterness."
Wang Zixu was very happy to be praised, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help but turn up: "I just wanted to write it more tragically, so that the impact would be stronger."
"It's too strong. So it's too bitter." Lin Feng said, "When you wrote this article, did you draw on a lot of real life?"
Wang Zixu said, "No."
In fact, there were. But out of protection for his wife, he couldn't admit it.
The change in the image of the wife in the novel is very heartbreaking. At the same time, if you put yourself in the shoes of the protagonist, you will feel a serious sense of squeeze. This will breed resentment towards the image of the wife.
He considered that after the novel was published, it would be read by people he knew. If people connect his wife with the wife in the novel intentionally or unintentionally, they will definitely criticize his wife. This is something he absolutely doesn't want to see.
Lin Feng said: "Actually, when I see the wife in your novel, I can think of my own wife countless times. Alas, it's not her fault, it's just that it's hard to talk about the suffering."
Wang Zi raised his glass in vain: "This is what marriage is like, not only It is the union of two people, and it is not only the union of two families, but also the lifelong bond between two people. There is a more tragic content in this system, come on. "
Lin Feng said: "It goes without saying, we are all men."
After the two drank, they found that Xie Cong turned to look at them: "Why did you two get it done by yourself? Come on, let's do it together."
Lin Feng and Wang Zixu toasted again, feeling a little embarrassed about their behavior of staying away from the entire table.
Xie Cong held Wang Zixu’s shoulders and said: "Actually, I admire this classmate of mine very much. Every time I see him, I feel at ease. Guess why?"
Xie Cong said: "When I was still in high school, my classmates talked about their ideals and ambitions. We all talked about which university we wanted to get into. What do you think Comrade Wang Zixu said?"
Someone next to him asked, "What did Wang Zixu say?" Xie Cong smiled and said, "He said that he would live differently from everyone else."
Director Yang touched his face with his right hand and frowned slightly: "What do you mean?"
Xie Cong said, "It's just different!"
On the table No one spoke, and the atmosphere was a bit awkward. Xie Cong patted Wang Zixu hard and said:
"Anyway, when I see that you are still sticking to the literary front and guarding the bottom line of literati, I feel very touched and relieved, really."
Wang Zixu smiled awkwardly: "To put it bluntly, isn't it just poverty?"
The audience burst into laughter, and a man next to him clapped loudly and laughed: "Xie Cong, I understand what you mean, your friend is so interesting!"
Wang Zixu said: "The bottom line of a scholar should not be poverty."
Unfortunately, his voice was drowned out by laughter, and no one heard him.
Someone at the table said: "The upper limit of a scholar should not be to be liked by everyone."
The prince looked over and saw a white man with thick lips and glasses sitting among the people, with a tablecloth around his neck and a glass full of beer in his hand, greeting him.
Jean-Paul Sartre. This old man came to the table at some point and drank the beer like red wine.
Wang Zixu felt that he must have lost his mind, so he decided to ignore Sartre. No matter how Sartre teased him, he remained silent. Although he felt strong aggression and competitive tendencies in Xie Cong, he had no intention of fighting back. He has offended too many people recently.
“Beauvoir is a good woman.” This was the last word Wang Zixu said at the table.
“Huh?” Lin Feng turned to look at him. Only Lin Feng heard it.
…
"I think your conclusion is a bit hasty, and all the evidence and arguments are in a mess. You just said that people with high love scores may marry young. You didn't even listen to my argument."
Ning Chunyan said a lot of words in one breath, with a very calm tone and full of emotion. After hearing this, Chen Qingluo showed an expression of "What can you do to me?"
"I don't guarantee that my conclusion is correct. I just stand as a professional and give a judgment with an accuracy rate of close to 80%. Whether you choose to believe it or not is up to you."
She walked around the room barefoot, making a "tapping" sound. The tone of her words made Ning Chunyan feel like she was a scumbag.
Ning Chunyan said: "Qingluo, this matter is really important to me. Please be more serious."
Chen Qingluo said: "The important thing is your current emotion, every time Every minute of suffering. Looking at the end, life has no meaning. The only thing that is meaningful is this moment. Ning Chunyan said: "You understand. But you have never been in love. , It’s easy to say, when it’s your turn, you will be more confused than me.”
Chen Qingluo caressed her chest: “Who said I have never been in love?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Of course. For a person with such a high love quotient like me, it’s just an accident that he’s not married.”
"Sorry, I didn't see that you have a high love quotient."
Chen Qingluo thought she might be curious about her love experience (actually Ning Chunyan was not curious at all) , she said in an emotional tone:
“It was a summer, that year, I was 17 years old, and he was also 17 years old.”
"Wait a minute," Ning Chunyan, "Is your story long?"
"I don't know if it will be long before I finish telling it."
“I don’t know. We only knew each other for a few months and then we broke up.”
“Okay, then you tell me.”
Then Ning Chunyan found out that he had been deceived.
Chen Qingluo’s first love, which was as short-lived as morning dew, has no weight in terms of time. It is nothing more than the throbbing events of adolescence. Logically speaking, everything about it can be said in a few words. But she added a lot of her own psychological activities and side descriptions, and her lengthy behavioral analysis turned a mini-novel into a novella.
After half an hour, Ning Chunyan figured out that she and her so-called first love had never confessed to each other at all, and there was no conclusive evidence that the other party even liked her. Chen Qingluo was sure that the reason why they were happy was just "Who wouldn't like me?"
This low-income girl.
"It's over, all my time has been wasted by you." Ning Chunyan said, "I haven't finished transcribing the manuscript, and I haven't figured out what happened to the little prince. I just listened to your insignificant love history."
Chen Qingluo’s face darkened: “After all, people’s joys and sorrows are different. For me, it’s a big event like the earth is shattering and the sea is shattered. For you, it’s just a trivial matter.”
“Stop your head, does your first love know that you are in love?” Ning Chunyan said, “Why don’t you come out and I’ll talk to you in person, my phone is dead.”
“I said, I don’t want people to know that I’m back.”
“Then wear a mask.”
The time when the two women went out to meet was at 8:30 in the evening. It was completely dark and the probability of being discovered was low. They arranged to meet at the cross street intersection, which was only 50 meters away from the "old village chief".
The party over by Wang Zixu had just ended. Xie Cong said he wanted to play bridge with the others, and they parted ways. When Chen Qingluo appeared at the intersection wrapped in a windbreaker, Wang Zixu had just passed by, and the time difference was less than two minutes.
But they didn’t see each other. Under the cover of night, they missed each other at the same intersection.
Human beings are not four-dimensional bugs and cannot move freely on the timeline, so humans will never find out what they have missed. This is the only thing the Creator deserves to be thankful for.