Chapter 257 The Confluence of Two Lonely Rivers
A few days later.
Wang Zixu and Ye Lan pushed open the door of the Wenwen Club training base, releasing the loneliness that had been imprisoned for a long time.
The base is empty. Except for a set of wooden sofas, most of the other furniture in the hall has been cleared away, leaving only a few faint traces of outlines. A clear plastic bag lay in the middle of the floor, like an oversized condom.
Wang Zixu inexplicably remembered an ambiguous script he had written:
“…I went to a pirated bookstall, and the store gave me an opaque plastic bag. I thought it was a condom for my self-esteem, wrapping my poverty and pride to prevent the brewing resentment from being shot out to the world. This may not be a protection. Protecting the world is still protecting myself..."
According to feedback from many speech therapists, many users, especially rich women, respond well to this metaphor, saying that it has a kind of savage vitality and is inexplicably attractive.
This is very different from Wang Zixu’s imagination. He originally thought that only those who have experienced hardship can understand this kind of self-deprecation, which is like stabbing oneself with a knife, and there is a bloody sense of inferiority and pleasure in it.
Later, Zuo Ziliang explained his confusion: For people who have been truly poor, "poverty" itself has the greatest contraceptive effect. This metaphor is not provocative to them, but infuriating.
It suddenly dawned on Wang Zixu. He remembered that the child he and his wife had made up together, in the end, it was because of the word "poor" that it never became a reality. From then on, he never made such comparisons again.
The bookshelves against the wall are filled with books. These were once carefully selected spiritual food by Wang Zixu. They were brought to the base and have already gathered dust after a long period of time.
Before Wang Zixu wrote the script, he had never been to a pirated bookstall, and all the books on the shelves were genuine. The "condom" metaphor was just a figment of his imagination.
Later, when he visited the pirated bookstall, he found that there were no opaque plastic bags, and there was no self-esteem as expected. Everyone just paid and left, just like buying food, happily.
In fact, his financial situation is very worthy of piracy, and the reason why he insists on buying genuine books is because of this consideration: Since winning the Nobel Prize for Literature is my lifelong goal, I should regard supporting genuine books as my responsibility. Otherwise, if I publish it myself in the future, how can I have the face to persuade people to buy my own books?
He has been contributing to the development of the book business for ten years, but his own book has not yet been published, which means he has not seen any money back. Fortunately, he didn't tell anyone else about this idea, otherwise he would have been laughed at.
"This place has not been rented out since the last time you left," Ye Lan explained on the side, with a bit of embarrassment in his tone, "Your book is too heavy, and you didn't want it, so you just left it here and ignored it."
Wang Zixu walked to the bookshelf, brushed the spines of a row of books with his fingertips, and finally pulled out a book "Love in the Time of Cholera". He carefully blew away the dust on the cover and slowly opened it.
The pages of the book made a dry "click" sound, as if they were about to fall apart in the next second. A special scent of ink hit my nose, the dry paper slipped from my fingers, and the anxiety in my heart was immediately relieved.
Then, a long-lost urge, like thirst, came up without warning.
He wants to read.
Since he finished writing "Fire in the Stone", he felt that he was hollowed out. Every time he tried to read, he couldn't get into the state. But this time, that pure desire to read came home.
He wants to read purely, intensely, and greedily, like tearing, sucking, and indulging, and immersing himself into the depths of the world constructed by words.
He stroked the book cover, lifted the dust cover on the sofa, sat down, and officially opened the book.
The salty and humid breath of the sea breeze carries the fragrance of hibiscus flowers, rising from the paper. The Caribbean Sea and the Andes, the scorching sun and showers, the yin and yang poles interweave and ferment in non-linear time and space, and finally evaporate the long love sorrow like the rainy season.
He entered the story in an instant, drifting on the ocean current to this Caribbean port faded by the sun. The sultry air unique to hot areas enveloped him, and the strong sunshine made his mouth and tongue dry and his lips parched.
“It seems that before you move in, we need to hire two hourly workers to clean up.” Ye Lan said.
"Do you still remember the cooking skills of the cooking aunt last time? Do you want to invite her again? But I don't know if she has a schedule now." Ye Lan added.
“The lost believer told me that it will take another two hours for them to arrive. Do you need me to wait here with you?” She asked the third question.
Three sentences are like pebbles thrown into a deep well, without even a single response. Ye Lan turned her head and realized that Wang Zixu had turned a deaf ear and was completely immersed in the world in the book.
She puffed up her mouth and started to get angry.
Walking to the sofa and sitting down next to Wang Zixu, she lifted her hair and asked, "Don't you have anything you want to talk to me about?"
Ye Lan was very close, and the wind in Cartagena Harbor mixed with a hint of perfume. Wang Zixu had to reluctantly free up some running memory to deal with it:
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t want to talk about our plan?” Ye Lan said, "Aren't you afraid? Aren't you doubtful? Aren't you feeling...excited?"
I don't know if it was because of the long-term influence of Wang Zixu's culture, but the series of comparisons she blurted out were quite powerful.
A few days ago, in that KTV private room, the two people confronted Zuo Ziliang. Despite a prior agreement not to give Zuo Ziliang a chance to confuse people, the negotiation ended with Zuo Ziliang's victory.
Zuo Ziliang’s plan is also very simple: use "Little Prince" as the core to fully empower the three major sectors of script creation, marketing strategy and user channels...
In human terms, let Zixu lead people to write scripts fiercely, replicating the grand training event of the Wenwen Base.
During the more than three months when Wang Zixu was immersed in writing "Fire in the Stone", the company's number of users increased tenfold, but the profits were the same as in the previous months. Until now, the company's highest single-month profit was achieved by Wang Zixu when he was at the Wenwen Script Master Training Base.
Zuo Ziliang believes that as long as Wang Zixu devotes himself to writing for two months and improves the quality and efficiency of the script, it will be natural for his income to increase 10 times.
Ye Lan immediately rebelled and said the risk was worth taking. Wang Zixu was a little hesitant. He felt that this plan was not fundamentally different from the previous scripter training.
Zuo Ziliang said to Wang Zixu, I have read your "Fire in the Stone" and it is really good. I feel that when you wrote the script, you didn't take it as seriously as you did "Fire in the Stone."
He also said, since you can write "Fire in the Stone" to this level, why can't you also write the script to that level? Why don't you try it?
Having said that, Wang Zixu has nothing more to say. He decided to give it a try.
After Ye Lan left, Zuo Ziliang confessed a shocking fact to him. After hearing this, Wang Zixu thought carefully and decided to help Zuo Ziliang to the end.
So the Wenwen training base was once again in full swing. At the same time, the same text message was sent to three carefully selected digital scripters. The Wennan team was called together again.
Today is the day to gather.
Wang Zixu replied to Ye Lan: "Actually, until now, I have not been completely convinced by Zuo Ziliang. He believes in me more than I do. He thinks that as long as I work hard, I can make money."
Ye Lan's eyes widened: "In terms of trusting you, I'm not much worse than him. Don't you believe in your own strength?"
Wang Zixu said: "It's not that I don't believe in my own strength, I just don't believe in my luck. I always have a feeling that the introduction of relevant laws and regulations will definitely be much faster than we imagine."
Ye Lan said: "Don't be so talkative! It makes me even more nervous now! Aren't you nervous?"
Wang Zixu said: "I don't have time to be nervous. I have more important things to do now."
"What is it?"
"Reading a book." Wang Zixu said.
Ye Lan completely gave up communicating with Wang Zixu and went to contact the hourly worker to clean the house alone.
Thanks to her thoughtfulness, Wang Zixuneng could immerse himself deeper into the book and drift into the depths of the Caribbean Bay.
In the past, his reading was more about imitating the writer's style. He was once very proud of his ability, which helped him write praised books.
But today, he suddenly realized that his previous creative style was not so much about imitation, but about making words into similar shapes.
He can remember the characteristics of these square characters like a blind man touching an elephant, but he has never touched the root, and has never gone as deep into that world as he did today.
At this time, he felt everything about the Port of Cartagena so clearly: the air there was as thick as honey, boiling love and desire, life and death together; the people there had naked and frank desires, baked to infinite intensity under the scorching sun in the dry season; the rainy season there seemed to be so long that it would never end, and the lingering sorrow was soaked and expanded infinitely.
He felt that his heartbeat was matching the damp and slow rhythm of the port, beating heavily, one after another. His thoughts also quietly merged with the joys and sorrows flowing between the pages of the book, like two lonely rivers, finally converging in the vast sea of words.
…
Cheng Xing, Xin Zhe, and Xiao Ba were the first to arrive. When they entered the base, the room was quiet.
The afternoon sun slanted through the dusty windowpane, casting mottled light and shadow on the empty floor. In this silence, they saw the little prince sitting alone on the old sofa by the window, with a heavy book spread out on his knees, and his whole body seemed to be enveloped in a faint halo.
Just as he was about to step forward to say hello, Ye Lan stopped the three of them and raised his green-white fingers to his lips.
“Don’t disturb him,” Ye Lan said, “He is reading.”
Everyone followed her gaze and saw that Wang Zixu seemed to be isolated from the outside world. His brows were sometimes slightly frowned, sometimes relaxed, and he was completely immersed in another world. The fingers that occasionally turn the pages of the book are as gentle as if they are afraid of disturbing the souls in the book, and even the breathing seems to be in sync with the rhythm of the words.
The three people quickly stopped talking. Cheng Xing asked in a low voice: "Sister Lan, the others haven't come yet?"
Ye Lan said: "Yingjiang said they would be here soon, Black Dog and Star Voice are about half an hour away..."
The believer interrupted her: "Wait a minute, who are Black Dog and Star Voice?"
Ye Lan was a little surprised: "Didn't I mention it? There were a few people last time, but they couldn't come this time. We found some additional chat staff to fill the vacancies."
The believer was a little surprised: "Who can't come?"
"Poet."
The believer took out his cell phone with some excitement: "What's the matter with her? I'll call her and ask."
Ye Lan stopped him quickly: "Hey! It's not that she can't come, we didn't call her in the first place."
"Why?" Even Cheng Xing was a little surprised. The poet had the best performance among them last time, but such a great helper did not come.
"The king... the little prince arranged it." Ye Lan turned to look at Wang Zixu, "He said that the poet is too young, this matter is very dangerous, and she cannot be delayed."
Hearing this, the first person who couldn't hold back was the believer, saying: "Hey! I am the same age as the poet! You can't delay her, why can you delay me? Is it because I don't? It's from 985..."
Cheng Xing interrupted him: "Keep your voice down, don't disturb the little prince while he's reading."
Ye Lan smiled and said, "You man, what are you afraid of delaying? Besides, you are here to make money. Even if there is danger, you must arrest the little prince first."
Cheng Xing's expression was serious: "You can't arrest the little prince. The little prince's contribution to culture in the future will not be comparable to that of all those people from the TV station. If he is arrested, it will cause heavy losses to the cultural development of our country."
Ye Lan raised his eyebrows: "Do you really think so highly of him?"
Cheng Xing said seriously: " Of course I mean it. To be honest, I came here with a martyrdom mentality. If the board above is really knocked down, I will help the little prince carry it."
The believer interrupted Cheng. Xing Xing stated affectionately: "Wait, don't worry about these unimportant things for now, the important thing is - are all the people coming to the base this time a group of big men? I thought the poet would come, that's why I came!"
Xiaoba looked at him with disdain: "Even if the poet comes, do you think she will pay attention to you? Wishful thinking."
The believer's voice was a little weaker: "That's not what I meant... I just think... think about it, we have to stay here for at least a month! How boring would it be if we were all a bunch of big men?"
Ye Lan stared and said: "Am I not a beauty? Am I a beauty?"
The believer's voice was a little weaker: "You are! But...you are not that..."
As he spoke, his eyes glanced at Wang Zixu. Ye Lan thought his reaction was very interesting, and she was very excited, so she kept asking:
"What do I mean by 'that'? What happened to me? What do you think?"
Cheng Xing smiled bitterly on the side and said, "When you make such a fuss, it seems that I came here with such a heavy heart, which is a bit funny."
The believer was chased and beaten by Ye Lan and did not dare to speak. Ye Lan decided to let him go and said: "I won't tease you anymore. In fact, there is a beautiful woman here this time. She is a newcomer, and her nickname is 'Wearing LO Code Words'."
This topic immediately attracted everyone, and everyone joined in.
The believer asked: "First, have you seen this newcomer? How do you know she is a beauty? Second, how do you know she is a woman?"
Ye Lan showed the phone screen to him: "Look, my nickname is 'Chuang LO code character'. Can't you see what it means? She is Luo Niang."
Everyone gathered in front of the phone to watch. The personal page of the beauty displayed was a cute, pink, and savage anime girl. The personal introduction was very simple, with only five words: "Sugar and Rivets."
Everyone agreed that this might indeed be a beauty. Only the believers were still saying: "Does wearing Lolita make you a beautiful woman? Maybe this is just a man who likes to wear Lolita and is ugly." At this moment, Hachi interrupted him: "Sakura-chan is here!"
The door opened with a whoosh, and a man who looked like a door panel stood at the door. The muscles on his forearm were exposed in the sleeves. In stark contrast, his too delicate appearance was in sharp contrast.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Sakura-chan showed an apologetic smile to everyone.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, come here quickly, we are discussing the new boy and girl... Oh no, it’s Luo Niang.”
The sharp-eyed Xiao Ba was stunned at a glance A blind spot appeared: "Sakura-chan, why didn't you bring any luggage?"
Sakura-chan did come empty-handed, only carrying a small schoolbag on her back, while everyone inside the door piled large and small bags of luggage at the door.
Sakura-chan showed an apologetic smile again and said: "Actually, I'm not here to participate in the event. I'm just here to meet you, say hello, and then leave. I...can't continue to write any more."
(End of this chapter)