The hot and humid air burned the skin, and even fanning wildly was of no avail. Everyone wanted to be like a dog, sticking out their tongues to spread more heat, and refused to go to the party in the bamboo forest again.
Lin Huiyin was drinking mung bean soup and suddenly suggested: "Why don't you write something, novels, poems, prose, essays... any subject matter will do. Then select the 30 best works among them and compile them into a book "Xiang Fu"
Collected Works" to be published."
"This is a good idea. I will be responsible for the editing work." Hu Shi responded immediately.
Hu Shi is good at writing reviews, translating novels, and writing academic research articles, but he is not good at literary creation. His poetry and prose are relatively mediocre, among which the vernacular poem "Butterfly" is the most representative
Two yellow butterflies flew into the sky.
I don’t know why, but a Hufei came back.
The remaining one is lonely and pitiful.
I have no intention of going to heaven, because it is too lonely.
From this limerick, we can see that Mr. Hu Shi’s poetry seems to have no level at all.
The smartest thing about Hu Shi was that he knew how to exploit his strengths and avoid his weaknesses. As soon as he heard Lin Huiyin's suggestion of improvisation, Hu Shi immediately took over the task of compiling the anthology. In this way, he could avoid making a fool of himself while occupying a dominant position in this creation.
With the collective creation of so many cultural celebrities, "Collection of Auspicious Runes" will definitely cause a sensation. At that time, everyone will open the book and take a look: Hey, this collection of essays was originally edited by Mr. Hu Shi!
How could Zhou Hexuan not know what Hu Shi was thinking? He just smiled and was too lazy to reveal it.
"You go ahead and write, I won't show my shame." Jiang Xiaoyu said very honestly. He is one of the top sculptors in China at this time. He can create sculptures and he is also good at painting. As for doing literature
Writing is not enough.
Xu Zhenfei also smiled and said: "I study economics and have no research on literature."
One after another, seven or eight more people gave up writing activities, including philosophers like Jin Yuelin.
In fact, they must have no problem writing articles. They have essays, travel notes and so on at their fingertips. But there are too many masters present, and they don't want to make up for it, so they all choose to hide their clumsiness.
On the other hand, Liu Haisu, a painter, started writing prose with great interest. He studied prose deeply.
Zhou Hexuan was leaning in the corner to enjoy the coolness alone, drinking mung bean soup happily, without any enthusiasm for writing articles. It's not that Zhou Hexuan couldn't write this kind of work. Before time travel, he traveled around the world, and when he ran out of money, he wrote travel notes.
, published in various travel magazines and self-media, this was his first cooking technique.
Even if he can't write it himself, Zhou Hexuan can still copy it. He can just copy a few fine essays and revise them, which will be good works.
The main reason is that I have no inspiration and don’t know what to write. Zhou Hexuan is already well-known, so why should he steal the limelight from others?
Only writers like Su Xuelin, who are neither good nor bad, and are somewhat famous in the literary world but lack influence, need to express themselves well on such occasions, at least their future manuscript fees will definitely increase.
Shen Congwen also didn't write. He liked to stay alone in his room to create. His words flowed from his soul, and he was not suitable for the lively live composition competition.
The weather is getting hotter and muggier, and everyone is sweating.
Lu Xiaoman's old habit relapsed, she felt dizzy and almost fainted. Xu Zhimo quickly helped her to the vent and got a corner of opium to relieve the pain. In an era when painkillers were lacking, opium was the best analgesic, which Lu Xiaoman could not live without.
The main reason for opium prescription.
Zhou Hexuan had seen a similar disease in the 21st century. The modern medical name is "Ménière's syndrome". Whenever the attack occurs without any signs, the patient will feel strong rotational vertigo, often accompanied by nausea and vomiting.
Symptoms such as sweating, tinnitus, and fullness can even cause severe pain in severe cases.
Even in the 21st century, when medicine is advanced, the cause of Meniere's syndrome is still unknown, and it is very difficult to cure it. Doctors can only advise patients to rest, eat more fruits and vegetables, and maintain a balanced diet.
As for the Republic of China period, it was even less possible to receive effective treatment. Doctors unanimously believed that Lu Xiaoman was suffering from "syncope".
After Lu Xiaoman's side stabilized, Zhou Hexuan walked over and asked, "Are you okay?"
"It's an old problem. Just take a break." Xu Zhimo sighed. He didn't want to divorce Lu Xiaoman. The main reason was that he couldn't worry about it and felt that Lu Xiaoman needed to be taken care of.
Zhou Hexuan pushed the door open and went out, looked up at the sky, and saw that the sun had been obscured by dark clouds. However, the weather did not become cooler because of this, but became more muggy. Zhou Hexuan said to himself: "I'm afraid it's going to rain again."
"Boom!" Thunder sounded.
Menlei, only thunder, no rain.
However, there was a gust of mountain wind blowing, which accelerated the evaporation of sweat on the body surface, making Zhou Hexuan feel a slight chill.
As time passed slowly, the sky became darker and darker, and the mountain wind became stronger and stronger, causing the bamboo forests on the hillside to sway in the wind.
"Wow, it's windy. It's so cool!" Zhang Jiazhu ran outside excitedly. He had finished the prose he wrote.
People kept coming out after writing articles, standing in the wind and embracing nature, just hoping for raindrops to fall from the sky soon. Unfortunately, the wind blew, thunder struck, and it just didn't rain.
Su Xuelin was like a primary school student eager to be praised by her teacher. She held her prose in both hands and handed it to Zhou Hexuan: "Mr. Zhou, this is my humble work. Please correct it."
Zhou Hexuan quickly read her article and said with a smile: "Well written, keep up the hard work."
"That's it, thank you Mr. Zhou." Su Xuelin was very disappointed because Zhou Hexuan's comments were too perfunctory.
Zhou Hexuan is not deliberately perfunctory, but Su Xuelin's articles cannot be evaluated. The biggest feature of this female writer's prose is that she likes to write about people, and she always mentions her friends, especially those with power, status, and fame.
What she is writing now is a travelogue prose, which is completely a running account. The opening chapter is that she and a certain friend received invitations from Zhou Hexuan and Hu Shi to attend a literary conference about Xu Zhimo, during which there were many descriptions of famous people.
From the perspective of an ordinary reader, I must have read it with gusto and thought this article was very interesting and up-to-date. But for other people on the mountain at this moment, it is just like chewing gum and has no nutrition at all.
Disappointed and embarrassed, Su Xuelin asked: "Didn't Mr. Zhou write an article?"
Zhou Hexuan said: "Lack of inspiration."
Su Xuelin said in a coquettish tone: "How can such a grand event lack Mr. Zhou's article? You should write one."
Zhou Hexuan was so aroused that he felt chills. If the person acting coquettishly was a beautiful girl, he would definitely enjoy it very much, but Su Xuelin was a middle-aged, short and fat woman in her 30s.
In fact, there was nothing in common with Su Xuelin, so Zhou Hexuan quickly pretended to look at the scenery.
On the hillside, next to the green cornfield, several farmers were plowing the land. It was a sloping land of only more than ten square meters, which could only be described as barren, but the farmers were extremely serious when turning over the land, just like a sculptor.
Carve a flawless jade.
Su Xuelin followed Zhou Hexuan's gaze and sighed palely: "Farmers are really hardworking."
"Yes, Chinese farmers have been here for generations. They bear the hope of the country." Zhou Hexuan suddenly remembered a poem.
That poem is the work of Mr. Mu Dan, the greatest modernist poet in China. The second year after he wrote that poem, the poet resolutely joined the army and joined the expeditionary force. He personally experienced the great retreat from Yunnan and Burma and climbed over the mountains in the Savage Mountains.
Ridge, he managed to survive by walking on piles of bones. The terrible dysentery tortured him, and the hunger of eight days without food drove him crazy. He fled to India after missing for five months, and then almost died from overeating.
Maybe some people have never heard of Mu Dan's name. His real name is Zha Liangzheng, the cousin of Mr. Jin Yong and the distant cousin of Xu Zhimo.