On the second floor, in front of the writing desk, Yang Chen, who had just witnessed a heart-wrenching scene, was swiping the brush freely in his hand. Whenever his mood fluctuated too much, he would write calligraphy to calm it down. The smooth handwriting written on the yellowed straw paper was not a gorgeous poem full of heroic ambitions.
A biting dog never barks. Similarly, a truly ambitious man is good at hiding his true feelings.
The writing on the papyrus paper shows a good degree of heat.
Yang Chen has been writing calligraphy for eight years. He has been dancing with a calligraphy brush before he is familiar with pen calligraphy. As long as he is not stupid and has been doing the same thing for eight years, it is difficult to make perfect without practice. What's more, Yang Chen, who has a good brain, can write all the words in a leisurely manner.
Zhang Zhang, put down his hand and pen, and silently admire his handwriting.
Not intoxicated by it.
He looks for flaws and deficiencies.
It is both valuable and terrifying for a seventeen-year-old child to develop this habit!
"Chenchen, your classmate is here." His mother's voice came downstairs, and Yang Chen responded, slowly crumpling his "calligraphy treasure" into a ball of paper and throwing it into the wastebasket. What he wrote with so much worry was far from what he wanted.
The standard of his collection, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and he knew who was coming.
Xiaoyu, Yu Xiaobin.
Xiaoyu went upstairs. Yang Chen's mother, Zhang Lan, brought a plate of cut watermelon to her. She asked Xiaoyu to eat the watermelon. Xiaoyu said thank you, auntie, and waited for Zhang Lan to come downstairs. Xiaoyu sat on the bed and bent over, holding the watermelon.
While eating, I was alone with my old classmates. The cautious and shy boy in the school was quite relaxed. While eating, he asked: "Yang Chen, what happened that day didn't cause you any trouble?"
"What's the trouble? We've been classmates for many years and you still don't know about me?" Yang Chen stared at Xiaoyu's slightly guilty face and smiled easily.
"Well, you are much better than me." Xiaoyu nodded with deep understanding, showing a slightly self-deprecating wry smile.
"What's so good about being strong? With your ability, you will definitely be a favorite in the eyes of the teacher when you reach No. 1 Middle School. You will be a good candidate to be admitted to a prestigious university. With my little knowledge, the key point of the province's exam in three years will be Amitabha." Yang Chen explained with a smile.
In fact, Xiaoyu shook his head slightly, seeming to be more looking forward to Faxiao's future.
When Yang Chen asked Xiaoyu which university he wanted to go to in three years, Xiaoyu put down the cleanly chewed melon rind, smiled softly, and replied in a panic: "Beijing University."
Peking University.
A sacred temple that is unattainable in the minds of countless little kids today.
It is no exaggeration to say that the emergence of this university changed the direction of China's modern history.
No matter how cynical Yang Chen was, he couldn't help but stand in awe after hearing Xiaoyu's answer. After all, he was not lacking in ambition and was still a student who focused on his studies.
"Xiaoyu, I'm optimistic about you, you can definitely do it."
Yang Chen patted Xiaoyu's shoulder heavily and sincerely wished his best friend since childhood. Xiaoyu recalled the scene where his cousins were sarcastic when they learned that he had set Peking University as his goal. Then he looked at Yang Chen who showed his true feelings at this moment.
Extremely touched, this is what we call brothers!
An hour later, Xiaoyu walked out of Yang's small restaurant, stopped on the side of the road, slowly turned around and looked back at the second floor window. His thin face against the setting sun was particularly determined, and he murmured: "A scholar will die for his confidant."
The last brilliant afterglow of the setting sun has faded away, and the night is getting darker.
Yang Chenying's tall and slender figure appeared in the most lively place in the old city at night, the Cultural Square. As the saying goes, a handsome man can hide all ugliness. This guy's body and face that resembled Takeshi Kaneshiro's face easily made Huaichun girls ignore his cheap outfit and stood on the edge of the square to attract attention.
People looked at him sideways. He had just sent Xiaoyu away in the afternoon and sent a small phone call to the restaurant's landline to make an appointment to meet at the food stall in the Cultural Plaza in the evening.
Beside the street lamp, Yang Chen habitually put his hands in his trouser pockets and looked around the noisy square indifferently. His eyes happened to meet five or six teenagers eating barbecue not far away. I don't know if these people were jealous of Yang Chen's beautiful tree facing the wind, or secretly hated the heavily made-up people around him.
The female companions glanced at Yang Chen a few more times. Among them, a young man with yellow hair who seemed to have unconventional looks picked up the empty beer bottle on the table and threw it at Yang Chen's feet. The bottle exploded, causing the people around him to look around in shock.
"What about your mother?" The yellow-haired young man pointed at Yang Chen unscrupulously with his cigarette-stuck hand.
Yang Chen glanced at the glass shards at his feet with disdain, and then looked at the arrogant yellow-haired young man. He frowned slightly and said nothing. Over the years, he had encountered too many young and frivolous people like the yellow-haired young man, and stepped on them.
After eating too much, I was already tired of it. At this moment, my interest was waning. The yellow-haired young man took it one step further and left his seat first to approach Yang Chen. He asked strangely if he was dissatisfied. Several of the idiot's companions followed him aggressively, leaving only the two at the same table sitting on pins and needles.
girl.
What I don’t want to do, I just want to do.
Yang Chen squinted his eyes and looked around at the five awesome and coaxing young people, his expression not moving at all.
"Damn, you're still pretending?!" The slanted-shouldered young man with yellow hair regarded Yang Chen's calmness as a reckless pretense. Before he finished speaking, the roar of the 400 motorcycle's high-horsepower engine came from far to near, and a dozen large motorcycles
The displacement motorcycle left the road in front of the square and rushed into the square with arrogance. More than a dozen riders with short or bald heads were dressed in different clothes, but they were all tough and tough. Some of them had hideous tattoos on their bare arms. Even a fool would probably be able to detect this.
The helpers were by no means kind, and there were some sexy girls with hot bodies sitting on the back seats of the motorcycles.
A macho man, a motorcycle, and a beautiful woman are both scary and curious.
Yang Chen looked sideways at the visitor, his smile getting thicker, but the disdain that appeared on his face just now was replaced by amusement. The visitor was Zhang Lei, who grew up in a courtyard with him and studied kung fu together. Zhang Lei, nicknamed Shitou, Shitou.
This nickname is a pun, not only because Zhang Lei's "Lei" character is composed of three stones, but also because Zhang Lei, who is only seventeen years old, has a body as strong and strong as a rock, and the strong and rough aura bursting out of his body belies his true age.
