Suburbs of Sijiucheng.

Farmland on the outskirts of Dawangzhuang.

The old village chief is also working.

Just when he was weeding, he suddenly saw an old man in Chinese clothing coming next to him.

The old man came as soon as he came and kept staring at him.

The old village chief put down his hoe and asked him: "Hey, old gentleman, please have a drink of water."

He thought the other party was embarrassed to ask for water.

"Thank you, I brought a water glass." The old man took out his own water glass and said.

The old village chief smiled and said, "Then why do you come to our village?"

"Oh, I, I am a writer. Writers come here specifically to collect stories and write poems."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you are still a writer." The old village chief was in awe.

Writers at this time are not writers everywhere in future generations.

Writers at this time still had a high status in people's hearts.

In other words, you can’t just identify yourself as a writer, you have to be recognized by your supervisor.

This status allows you to receive management subsidies.

You can't just write a few words and lead a family.

When people mention writers in this era, they think of great writers like Lu, Mao, and Ba...

Not comparable to ordinary tabloid writers.

In fact, this old man is the director of the clinical department of the hospital where the village chief was treated before.

"Old sir, I see that you have very good physical strength. You can finish so much work in a while," the director said seriously.

"Hahaha, they are all old farmers, so they are very good at this job." The old village chief smiled.

The director then asked the old village chief: "So will you live a long life this year?"

"Haha, I am not old, I am 52 years old."

"52 years old is still very young. I am already 66 years old." The old director said with a smile.

"But it feels like you work like a young man in his twenties or thirties."

When the old village chief heard this, he had no idea.

There isn't much to hide in the first place.

How could he have imagined that the other party was actually a director who came to observe him.

As for why he couldn't recognize it.

It's normal not to recognize each other, but they just met each other in the middle.

Moreover, at that time, his mind was not on the director, but on the improvement of his condition.

And this director had no direct contact with him from beginning to end.

He has always been treated by another attending doctor.

He had never been able to treat a disease like this before, so the director would naturally not come forward and waste precious consultation time.

To put it bluntly, I was waiting to die.

It's just that a person who was waiting to die is now living healthier than a healthy person like himself.

The old director also laughed.

Then he continued to observe.

The old village chief continued to work.

He took a closer look and found that the old gentleman was indeed very strong.

One person can weed three acres of land in one go.

One morning.

This efficiency is amazing.

While working, the old village chief really thought that the old gentleman was writing.

From time to time, he would poke his head in and ask: "What are you writing?"

He said: "I am writing poetry."

"Write a poem, what kind of poem is it? Can you read it to me?"

"Ah, let me tell you, this poem is actually written for you." The old director smiled.

"Hahaha, write it for me, how to write it, read it quickly."

"An old farmer is working in the fields/Although he is 52, he looks only 25, ah ah ah..."

"He plowed three acres of land in one breath."

"Not ten acres, not one acre, but three acres."

"He plowed an acre of land, and another acre of land."

The village chief was shocked when he heard this.

He said: "You are blind, I am weeding, not plowing the land."

"Writing allows reasonable exaggeration and fiction." The old director said with a smile.

"Well, then I can also write this poem." The old village chief had an idea.

"You can also write, then you can write and see." The old director was shocked.

He was just talking nonsense.

But I also read some poems, so I imitated them a bit.

But it doesn't look like the imitation.

The old village chief said: "Just write."

"Yes."

“An old gentleman from the city came over to write/ahhhh.”

"Although he is old, he writes little."

"Although he wrote all day long, he only wrote three lines."

"He wrote either ten lines, eight lines, or three lines."

"Good guy, your poem is very good, but you wrote the wrong number. I wrote four lines." The old director corrected.

He wrote very little.

The problem is that if I want to write more, I just write it as a case...

Not long ago, he changed from a young poet with great literary talent in college to an old stick who could only write about medical cases.

The director understands.

As a leader, the old village chief is not that simple.

At least the other party probably noticed it.

He is a fake writer.

So my ability to read people is still very strong.

It should have been experienced during the war era.

Finally, he said: "Brother, I see you have been doing this for a long time. Thank you for giving me this collection of information. I'll treat you to a meal."

When the old village chief heard this, he said, "Well, how can that be done? A great writer like you comes to our village to collect ideas and write, just to give us face."

"I should be the one to invite you."

"You also wrote me a poem."

"Didn't you also write me poems?"

"Hahaha."

The two old men laughed together.

"My dear, I'm going to buy some good pork head meat and some wine," the director said.

"That wine, I can't drink that wine." The village chief sighed.

"Why?"

"The doctor told me that my disease was caused by drinking, but I can't drink anymore." The village chief was helpless.
To be continued...