Chapter 194 Oh Captain! My Captain!

Chapter 194 Oh Captain! My Captain!

Chapter 194 Oh Captain! My Captain!

The wind blew through Qingshan Square and quietly touched the orange cake shop on the corner of the road.

"I still don't understand," the believer said, "why the little prince doesn't let everyone reveal his identity outside?"

"Do you want people to know that you are a speech therapist, useless believer?"

Because of the internet celebrity store, there was a long queue of people. The three of them were not here for any limited-time collaboration, but just for fun. After they were tired, they each took a dessert and rested under the parasol outside.

The huge sun could not disinfect the poet's mouth. The lost believer became a useless believer in her mouth. Even though he was not from a 985 university, he felt unfair.

"I definitely don't want to, but who am I? Who is the little prince? If I were the little prince, I would want to print 'I am the little prince' on my shirt. I can change eight girlfriends a day and I will be happy until I grow old."

"What a loser." Du Kezhu rolled his eyes at him, thinking he was extremely useless.

The believer said, "That's right. Look at what's happening on the Internet now. A bunch of women are shouting that they want to give birth to monkeys for the little prince. I really want to pull out their baobab trees.

"You said the little prince himself is not ugly, he is not bald, he doesn't have body odor, and he is quite good-looking. If he reveals his identity, won't those women jump up and throw themselves at him?"

The poet wanted to ridicule him, but then he thought again that he was right. This is indeed the way the world is now.

Just like the internet-famous store in front of us, the people queuing have now circled eight times, and the tail of the line is placed across the sidewalk, as if people from all over the East China Sea want to come and see the excitement.

The Little Prince is unique. Once his identity is revealed, the madness will only intensify.

Cheng Xing said: "It can only be said that everyone's pursuit is different. The little prince pursues something of a higher level, and the identity of the little prince cannot bring him what he wants."

The believer said: "Maybe my level is too low, I don't know what the higher level pursuit is."

Cheng Xing said: "That's not what I meant. I meant that, probably, he still wants to take the serious creative route."

“What is serious creation?”

"Serious creation means paying more attention to the ideological and aesthetic value of the work than the entertainment value, and pursuing originality and advancement. Of course, the distinction between serious literature and popular literature is not so clear now, but the ambiguous scripts I posted online are definitely not serious in the eyes of the literary world."

After that, Cheng Xing took a sip of milk tea and continued, "So, after I posted The Little Prince's Love Letters online, I was severely criticized by seniors in the literary world, who said that I was self-degrading and sensational, which made people terrified."

The poet held a straw in his mouth and said, "You work hard too. You do these thankless things without asking for anything in return."

"Who told me that I was destined to be his benefactor?" Cheng Xing smiled brightly, "I think it's quite an honor."

The believer asked: "Were you engaged in serious creation in the past?"

"That's it."

“Just because I posted a post that went viral, I was criticized?”

"Ah."

"No," the believer said angrily, "Are people not allowed to create freely? What's wrong with writing something entertaining when they are tired of being serious? I think they are just jealous."

Cheng Xing said: "I don't rule out the possibility that some of those who criticize me are jealous, and I don't judge others by my own standards. I know the character of some of them.

"But there are also people like Professor Zhong Junmin. They simply dislike this kind of frivolous and gaudy creative attitude. They themselves are very rigorous in their academic and creative work, and I respect them very much.

"It is normal to have different voices in the literary world. What I want to say is that they have criticized me so badly that it would be even more unacceptable if it was the little prince himself. If he confessed his identity, it is very likely that he would never have the opportunity to enter the field of serious literature in the future."

The believer opened his mouth and said: "Their comments are so important? Why should I care what others say when I write my own articles?"

Cheng Xing smiled bitterly: "After all, I'm counting on others to give me the award, so other people's opinions are of course important."

"What prize?"

"The Feishi Literature Award, the Outstanding Novel Award, the Chinese Writers Award...even the Mao Dun Literature Award."

"The little prince may want to win the Mao Dun Literature Prize." Du Kezhu suddenly said.

“There’s no writer who doesn’t want to take it.”

"There are many writers who are famous for a time, but few can leave their names in history. What he wants is to leave his name in history."

"So I said that he is pursuing something at a higher level," said Cheng Xing.

After hearing this, the believer sat there in a daze, and suddenly began to feel scared.

He finally realized that he had almost made a big mistake.

I’ll have to wear a helmet when I meet the little prince next time.

……

Even the small circle of literary and artistic people who most identify with the little prince cannot imagine his astonishing and arrogant grand goals.

The most ambitious goal they can think of is the Mao Dun Literature Prize. If they were to get a glimpse of Wang Zixu's true thoughts, they would be surprised at his audacity.

That's why he never tells anyone what he thinks. He's been called "out of his mind" so many times that he's not lacking in sarcasm.

It was his father who mocked him the most since he was a child. When he mentioned that he wanted to study literature, his father said, "No one in your family has ever studied literature for three generations, and you still want to study literature? Do you have the gene for it?"

Later, he passed the civil service exam and had a status in his father's eyes. He was ridiculed less and was replaced by Zhang Qian's ridicule. When he said he wanted to earn royalties, Zhang Qian laughed at his wishful thinking: You are the only one who wants to earn royalties? From kindergarten to college, what educational experience do you have that has anything to do with literature?

The woman's contempt was certainly discouraging, but Wang Zixu's own failure to live up to expectations was even more frustrating - Wang Zixu received his first payment for his writing many years after he broke up with Zhang Qian. If it weren't for the Xihe Literary Meeting, Zhang Qian might never have felt that she was wrong until she died.

Wang Zixu actually didn't care about ridicule. He had trained himself to be tough and strong over the past 30 years, and had developed a back armor. What he cared about was Chen Qingluo.

Among all the ridicules from others, only Chen Qingluo's ridicule was particularly gentle and touching, making people unforgettable.

"How come you've never heard of Joyce? You don't even know one of the four founders of stream of consciousness?"

"You haven't even read The Outsider? It's hilarious that you haven't even heard of such a famous work."

"What? You didn't even know that Bai Lu Yuan is in Xi'an? Even if you haven't read Chen Zhongshi's Bai Lu Yuan, you should know this common sense, right?"

She always used her scallion-like fingers to push away the hair at the temples near her ears. Her face was expressionless but her eyes were filled with a mixture of pride and mockery.

Wang Zixu always lost in such clear and pure eyes and was criticized to pieces. But he did not feel his self-esteem was frustrated. Instead, he became more and more courageous and looked forward to taking on her next challenge.

"'Pei Gong's army conquered Bashang but failed to meet Xiang Yu.' This 'Bashang' is Bai Lu Yuan, did you know?" Chen Qingluo whispered.

Wang Zixu lowered his head, staring at "The Banquet at Hongmen" in the textbook, then looked at "White Deer Plain" in Chen Qingluo's stomach, and felt a wonderful connection - the class and extracurricular activities were magically connected in this way.

"So Bashang is Bailuyuan? Doesn't that mean Liu Bang has been to Bailuyuan?"

Chen Qingluo didn't say anything. By the time Wang Zixu realized the reason, it was too late. The Chinese teacher's sharp gaze was fixed on his face, making his hair stand on end.

"Students, please don't gossip. How can you understand if you don't listen to the class? Wang Zixu, stand up and translate this sentence."

"The Lord of Pei's troops are stationed in Bailuyuan, and he has not yet met Xiang Yu..."

"What Bailuyuan? (Knocking on the podium)"

"Teacher, Bashang is now Bailuyuan..."

"What nonsense are you talking about? Where did you read this? Take the book out of your desk!"

The classmates laughed. Chen Qingluo turned away and looked at the wall, her shoulders shaking. Wang Zixu cried out that he had been fooled.

Many years later, Wang Zixu discovered that Bashang was actually Bailuyuan when he was sorting out local chronicles. At that time, he was already in a boring office in a public institution, sitting at a boring desk with endless reports in his mind. Suddenly, he recalled what happened that day and realized that Chen Qingluo was not deliberately tricking him.

Whether there has been no one engaged in literature within three generations or whether they did not major in literature, these are things that Wang Zixu is powerless to change.

But just knowing the knowledge that "Bashang is Bailuyuan" is very satisfying. If Chen Qingluo hadn't mentioned it to him when he was 17 years old, he would not have discovered this little-known fact in a pile of old papers until 10 years later.

Chen Qingluo always told him some unknown things, and this unknown knowledge polished him and changed him.

Bashang is beside the Bashui River, on which there is a Baqiao Bridge, and beside the Baqiao Bridge there are willow trees. The ancients liked to break willow branches to bid farewell. Unfortunately, when I said goodbye to Chen Qingluo, it was not as described in the poem, holding hands and looking at each other with tears in our eyes, speechless and choking.

If he had the chance, he would like to visit Bailuyuan.

He held the phone, the screen stayed on Chen Qingluo's phone page, and his knuckles turned white from pinching.

About thirty-three minutes and nine seconds later, he finally prepared himself mentally and dialed Chen Qingluo's number.

"Hey."

"Ning Chunyan has something to do tomorrow, so it's just the two of us going... Are you free tomorrow?"

"Have."

"Then, see you tomorrow morning?"

"it is good."

The other party simply hung up the phone, and Wang Zixu was a little confused.

Chen Qingluo was so straightforward that it made him doubt his life. Every time he said a word, Chen Qingluo would say a word. Before he finished speaking, Chen Qingluo agreed to everything.

As a result, he even forgot to arrange a specific meeting time with her.

He heard the door open. Ye Lan came back.

When Wang Zixu walked out the door, Ye Lan was sitting on the sofa cutting her toenails.

Her socks were stuffed into her slippers, her heels were on the toilet paper, and the toilet paper was on the coffee table. There was a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. When Wang Zixu passed by, he saw that her heels were red like an unripe tomato.

"Aren't you afraid of your toenails flying into your popcorn?"

"Oh! I was scared! Thanks for reminding me!"

Ye Lan stretched out her hand with difficulty, but because her legs were too long and her breasts were too big, she failed to touch the popcorn. She turned to him and said, "Can you help me?"

Wang Zixu helped her take the popcorn away and asked, "Why did you buy this?"

"Because today is Fast and Furious day."

“What is Vegan Chicken Day?”

"It's a day dedicated to watching Fast & Furious. Didn't you know that Fast & Furious 10 is on streaming media? Haven't you watched The Big Bang Theory? Oh, you're so boring."

The bored man shook his head, his expression showing that he still didn't understand what Ye Lan was saying, which made her very disappointed. However, she still magnanimously expressed her willingness to share half of the popcorn with him and allow him to celebrate "Speed ​​​​Day" with her.

Wang Zixu declined politely. He said he didn't want to risk eating Ye Lan's toenails to celebrate this festival. But he still sat down next to her and asked indirectly whether anything had happened in Wen Ai's company recently.

Ye Lan looked at him strangely: "What happened? There are so many things happening. I'm so busy every day. What are you talking about?"

"The unusual kind."

"Unusual." Ye Lan raised his head and thought, "Weren't we recruiting a few days ago? I went to interview a literature lover who came to our company because he admired the Little Prince, but his performance was very poor. In the end, he jumped onto the table and recited a poem, and we drove him off."

Wang Zixu said, "Dead Poets Society?"

"what?"

"Nothing. Did you recruit that guy?"

"Of course not. But we persuaded him for a long time, saying that he wouldn't see you even if he came to work, and only then did he agree to leave."

Wang Zixu scratched his head: "That's not what I'm talking about. Has Zuo Ziliang said recently that he wants to sell the company?"

"Ah?" Ye Lan's eyes widened. "He wants to run away? He dares! Can he do that without the consent of the board of directors? Did he tell you?"

"No, no, I was just giving an example, he didn't say that." Wang Zixu waved his hands quickly.

Ye Lan's expression did not seem fake (from what he knew about her, she was not the kind of person who could hide things). Because of this, Zuo Ziliang's intentions became even more elusive.

Why did he exclude them and communicate with Xunyi privately? Oh Captain! My Captain! What are you thinking?
Wang Zixu wanted to find an opportunity to talk to him.

Ye Lan, who was sitting next to him, kicked his thigh with an unripe tomato: "Don't you consider revealing your identity?"

It's magical, and I don't know why, but everyone is asking him to reveal his identity today.

Wang Zixu didn't want to answer this question. But a serious answer would make the Fast and Furious film lose a lot of its luster.

Suddenly, he was possessed by the little prince, turned his head and looked deeply into her eyes and said:
"You don't have sweaty feet, do you?"

"Ah?" Ye Lan's face flushed instantly, "Who has sweaty feet? You have sweaty feet! You have super stinky feet!"

After that, she quickly moved her nose and asked worriedly, "Does it smell bad?"

"No, I heard that beautiful women usually have sweaty feet."

"Who did you listen to?"

Wang Zixu said: "Don't you think sweaty feet is a good attribute? I think sweaty feet are healthy and energetic, and very cute."

"Ah?" Ye Lan looked at him as if he were a pervert and calmly hid his feet behind his butt.

“Really, Quentin is a foot fetishist, and so is Jiang Wen, who particularly likes to tap their feet. From the perspective of libido economics, perhaps foot fetishism triggers a certain mechanism that allows them to use this motivation to reproduce their creativity.

"Just think about it, a pair of beautiful feet, wearing small white socks, lively and jumping, you can't tell anything from the outside, but the inside is actually sweaty. Take off the socks, the socks become damp; step on the smooth floor, leaving a footprint; slippery, soft, sticky, and fragrant. Don't you think it's very cute?"

"I think you're a pervert."

Ye Lan gave a concise summary, jumped off the sofa barefoot, went to the refrigerator to get a can of beer, and came back with a red face.

"Do you want it?"

"No, I still have to write a script later." Wang Zixu said, "By the way, why is the script called a 'script'? Does this mean that there is some mysterious connection between creative inspiration and foot fetishism?"

"Ah! Stop talking!" Ye Lan covered her ears. She felt like she was almost brainwashed.

"Next time there is a 'Quentin Day' or 'Jiang Wen Day', invite me to watch it together. Sooner or later you will agree with my point of view." Wang Zixu suggested.

Ye Lan held up her legs and moved her toes flexibly in front of his eyes: "Why do you want to watch foot fetish movies? Isn't this enough?"

"Your feet won't do. I think Uma Thurman and Zhou Yun's feet look awesome."

……

(End of this chapter)