Chapter 212 The Only Choice Is No Choice

Chapter 212 The Only Choice Is No Choice

Chapter 212 The Only Choice Is No Choice
Wang Zixu was scanning the shared bikes when he realized that An Younan had not paid for speech therapy.

A dialog box popped up on the page, telling him that it would be more cost-effective to become a member (cost-effective at all), but he simply crossed it out. Then he inexplicably remembered that An Younan claimed that he would pay 1,000 yuan an hour for speech therapy, but in fact he didn't pay him a penny.

I did drink two bottles of wine worth over 1 yuan.

He was pushing the bike, intending to leave thoughtfully, when he heard a "click" sound near his thigh. He looked down and saw a solid iron chain across the spokes, announcing to him that the bus had been used for private purposes.

He was a little bit incredulous for a moment, and subconsciously turned back to confirm the "Floating Star Shangpin" community in the night.

The tall buildings are towering, the sightseeing elevators are reflecting the moonlight under the neon lights, and the black silhouettes of the magnificent buildings dominate the entire view.

He confirmed Fuxing Shangpin because he thought that such a shameless thing could not happen in such a place.

Who would have thought that just across the street from the most luxurious residential area in this city, and at the feet of a wealthy woman who spends more than 1 yuan on a bottle of foreign wine, there would be someone so embarrassed that he had to kidnap a shared bicycle. But this happened.

So he couldn't help but sigh: the huge gap is like a ravine in the world, lying in front of everyone, not clear-cut, and even jagged.

Fortunately, the scan took no more than 15 minutes and no money was required. Wang Zixu returned the car, put on his coat and walked out onto the street, his anger soon subsided.

I was still a little angry about someone locking my shared bike, but An Younan was no longer angry about ordering speech therapy but not paying for it.

To be honest, he himself didn't have any feelings for An Younan, but instead got a fascinating, first-person account of how a mistress became the most powerful woman in the world.

He has already started thinking about turning this experience into material for his novel. In fact, he should pay An Younan for the material.

The streets were very quiet at night. Apart from the lonely footsteps of the prince, there was only a tall Sartre with little hair following him closely.

"The seminar on your Fire in the Stone will be held tomorrow... No, it should be today. It's already early in the morning." Sartre said, "Do you have a headache?"

Wang Zixu had a headache, but it was not because of the seminar at first. When Sartre mentioned it, his headache became worse. He rubbed his forehead hard and said, "Stop talking. Let me get some sleep."

Sartre said, "That's why I say you're a bit twisted. Driver An Younan is off work, there are no cars at this time, your phone is running out of battery, and she even wore nice stockings. If she wants you to stay, you should stay."

Sartre's words didn't make any sense, but he added at the end, and it sounded strangely reasonable:

"If you can make her happy, you won't be afraid even if Shi Tonghe and Shen Qingfeng join hands and make a song about you tomorrow."

Holding onto the rich woman's silk stocking thighs is indeed a way to solve the current predicament, but the prince shook his head.

Sartre said, "What's wrong with you? Is she not pretty enough?"

An Younan was very pretty. She had long legs, a beautifully shaped chest, and a waist curve as gorgeous and attractive as her house. Even Wang Zixu, who hated her, had to admit that this guy was really an outstanding sexy animal.

Sartre asked again: "Are you waiting for Chen Qingluo?"

Wang Zixu remained as silent as a star.

Chen Qingluo was still writing in seclusion. He was secretly excited and looking forward to her new work.

But even if she wrote great work, what did it have to do with him?

They are two people after all. Wang Zixu is Wang Zixu, and Chen Qingluo is Chen Qingluo.

Besides, what position did he have to wait for her? How could he be so sure that she needed him to wait?

Sartre said, "Then you must have thought about what to do tomorrow?"

Wang Zixu finally opened his dry mouth and said, "I've figured it out."

"What are you going to do?"

"What I want to understand is," Wang Zixu said, "my only choice is that I have no choice."

Sartre tilted his head: "What do you think this is?"

"It's not about thinking it through, it's about understanding it. That's different. When you understand it, your thoughts are clear." Wang Zixu smiled, "No more internal friction."

“Can we get through this difficult time without internal friction?”

"I don't know." Wang Zixu said, "No internal friction means no internal friction. Just let nature take its course."

Sartre put his finger to his lips, noncommittal about the answer.

"It's been half a year since I came to Donghai," Wang Zixu said, "Do you remember what we've been through?"

Sartre mused: "A great writer who provides for his son's livelihood, a noble woman who is the daughter of a mistress, a cold female author who is good at dealing with people."

“There’s more to it than that.” Wang Zixu said with some emotion, “The students of Nankai University look down on me, but they are crazy about the little prince;
“The editor of Ancient City suppressed my manuscript, and Yangtze River also rejected it;

“Now, all kinds of artists are criticizing my hard-earned works and are sharpening their knives, waiting to fire at me at today’s seminar.

"The city of Donghai is so realistic. A little-known author like me has no dignity at all. Not only do I have no dignity, but my works also have no way out."

Sartre put his hands behind his back and pursed his lips: "I have also discovered that Chinese tradition emphasizes the internalization of social norms. In a society with a differential pattern, individuals use face games to complete the transfer of dignity in order to maintain relationship capital. People like you will certainly feel tormented."

"speak English."

"You can't flatter them," Sartre said. "They like people who are submissive. You can't flatter them, so of course it's painful."

Wang Zixu turned his head and looked ahead: "Yes, after all, it's still fire in the stone. Fame and wealth are just a waste of effort and energy."

"Do you miss Xihe?"

Wang Zixu shook his head: "How could that be? It's just that when I was in Xihe, I had some fantasies about the East Sea."

"disappointed?"

"A little bit, but it doesn't matter. I feel more comfortable now. Because I am not good at getting along well with the city."

Sartre smiled and took out his pipe from his pocket: "You mean you finally found a shared bike, but found it was kidnapped?"

"Including but not limited to." Wang Zixu said, "I am more accustomed to living in a resistance posture."

Professor Zhong said that the line of the god of literature is a straight line, and you have to approach it.

So what if he approaches it?
Professor Zhong did not answer the question, but just stared at him.

His eyes said: Then you are invincible.

Wang Zixu walked on the deserted street. The weather was cool after the rain and the accumulated water had turned into ice. The buildings were reflected in the shadows, leaning towards him.

……

Early morning. NCU.

The weather forecast said that the visibility today was 50 meters. While walking through the campus, a figure occasionally emerged from the white fog, holding steaming buns in his hands.

There was also a thin layer of mist in the bookstore window. The bald branches of the sycamore tree were shaking in the cold wind. He Yang Yuxiao huddled in a cashmere scarf, counting the fallen leaves.

She was not the only one squatting at the door of the library. The students of Nanjing University who usually looked up to the sky and shouted "Tian Wenjing, I'm going to school at 8am" were now huddled in their down jackets, squatting like a row of potatoes beside the flower bed, waiting obediently for the library door to open.

If there is anything special about today, it is the day when the new issue of "New Appreciation" is released. The news that the Little Prince is going to publish a new work has been leaked from some unknown channel and has already spread all over the city.

She had originally scoffed at him: How long had it been since the Little Prince wrote "The Lost Sky Slash"? Inspiration always takes time to brew, right? Even if the Little Prince was an absolute genius, it was impossible for him to produce so many masterpieces like this, and all of them were famous, right?
She had originally planned to put it aside for now, but as the release of "New Appreciation" was approaching, the discussion atmosphere became increasingly intense, and some social media added fuel to the fire. A simple title "The subject of the Little Prince's new work is actually..." was able to trick people into interacting with it for 30 times. When people clicked on it, they found that there was no content at all, only readers who did not know the truth and were cursing, thinking that the Little Prince's new work had been published in advance.

So He Yangyuxiao was shamefully tempted. Even if it wasn't for her own curiosity, even if it was just to become a social media sensation for a few seconds, it was worth buying the first batch of magazines.

Based on her last experience, she got up early and came here without saying a word, but she didn't expect that there were many people who had the same idea as her.

She even heard that the magazine orders at the Nanjing University Inner Library were too small, so some people had gone to the Book City at Qingshan Square. But according to news from there, there were even more people squatting at Qingshan Square!
He Yang Yuxiao exhaled a breath of white air and then waited boredly.

When she counted to the eighth fallen leaf, the crowd became agitated. She sensed something, so she pushed away the mist and followed the crowd forward, gradually speeding up her pace.

She heard the shutters of the library open, heard the students shouting, and finally heard the store manager's voice:

"The book hasn't been delivered yet! Why buy it? I want to read it too. Wait!"

A girl said, "Didn't we say it would be released today?"

The shop owner said, "Do you think this is a game? It will automatically refresh after a certain period of time. I also have to wait for others to deliver the goods to me!"

"Will it be delivered today?"

The boss became impatient: "Yes, yes."

"really?"

"Yes!"

A figure with long pink hair emerged from the mist. He Yangyuxiao turned around and happened to meet her classmate Ye Zhihan.

Her heart tightened: "Why are you here?"

Ye Zhihan smiled: "Aren't you here too? What can you do here? Don't you know it well?"

He Yangyuxiao was sure on the third day of coming to this class that she did not like Ye Zhihan.

Everyone thinks Ye Zhihan is an artistic girl, and on Weibo, she is even an artistic blogger. But from He Yangyuxiao's perspective, Ye Zhihan is just a person who likes to be pretentious.

She is not literary, and her favorite genres are always the latest hot topics on Caiya. Her reading experience is always a few highly praised comments and her own beautiful life photos.

Take The Little Prince for example. She read The Little Prince only because he was popular. If someone else was popular, she would have read something else. She didn't really like The Little Prince.

So He Yang Yuxiao felt a little hostile towards her.

More importantly, as a pseudo-literary blogger who pretenses to be cultured, she would snatch "New Appreciation" from her.

"Don't do what you did last time, buy 20 copies at once and then give them away as gifts on Weibo. Don't you think that's cheap?"

Ye Zhihan smiled: "I think the key point is not the price, but the content. I never care about the price when I watch a work."

He Yangyuxiao curled her lips: "Have you given away all the gifts from the last lottery?"

“It was gone in seconds, and the number of followers increased by more than 2,000.”

He Yangyuxiao was gritting her teeth when a freight tricycle not far away rang a crisp bell. She and Ye Zhihan put aside their grudges and rushed out at the same time.

"Boss, I want two copies of New Appreciation!"

"Boss! I want 50 copies of New Appreciation!"

The scene was a little chaotic for a moment, just like crossing the river in white clothes. When they arrived at the city, Lu Meng's army shouted together. Fortunately, the glass door of the study was strong enough, otherwise it might have been broken through in the previous attack.

Thanks to the boss's wise purchase restriction measure, each person was limited to one copy, and Ye Zhihan's request to buy 50 copies was flatly rejected. This time it was her turn to grit her teeth. He Yangyuxiao smiled contemptuously, turned back to open the magazine, and couldn't wait to read it on the spot.

There was no room in the library, so she squatted in front of the bushes at the door. Normally, she would feel a little ashamed, but the morning mist gave her a sense of security, and she was not the only one who did this.

"Oh my god, the little prince is really going through this. He's finally willing to expose himself!"

"Where? ... What are you yelling about? You scared me. Do you know what first-person writing is?"

"What's the situation with the New Appreciation this time? Not only is there the Little Prince's new work, but Xiao Mengyin's new work is also on the list!"

"The small, broken society is getting better. It can even invite Xiao Mengyin to submit her manuscript."

……

There were whispers of discussions in her ears, most of which were stupid. He Yangyuxiao didn't mind as her mind had already been immersed in the story.

She was so absorbed in the reading that she lost herself in isolation. As she read, she seemed to be approaching the little prince in spirit through these symbols, wandering on his cerebral cortex.

She read, eagerly and even greedily. She wanted to lick every line and every word with her eyes. These characters had an inherent wild tension, as if every word was fucking her.

She wanted to look up and take a breath, but the story in her hands was too exciting, like a pair of big hands holding her face, hooking her eyes, and then clamping her waist, preventing her from thinking about anything else, dragging her into a turbulent, deep whirlpool like a water ghost.

After reading the last word, she sighed with contentment, closed the book, sat on the flower bed, and looked up at the sky.

She didn't want to do anything, didn't want to think about anything, she just wanted to sit there and recall the emotions just now.

Genius. The Little Prince is definitely a genius.

She wanted to talk to someone about this story, but when she looked around, she found no one she knew except Ye Zhihan who was busy posting on Weibo. So she felt deeply lonely again.

At this moment, a familiar figure walked towards the library.

"Boss, do you have any copies of New Appreciation left?"

“It’s gone. It’s sold out in seconds.”

"Oh, then get a copy of Get."

He Yang Yuxiao picked up the book and ran towards the figure.

"Du Kezhu! You're late. If you want to read it, I can lend you my magazine for one class. I just finished reading it."

The innocent poet had a calm face. After scanning the code and paying, he turned to look at her and said, "Thank you. But I already have a reading book for the next class. You can lend it to me when we get back to the dormitory."

She raised the "Get" in her hand and waved it in the air. He Yangyuxiao then realized that the new issue of "Get" was also on sale today. She, a student of the Department of Literature, actually didn't think of it, which was a bit dereliction of duty.

"Is there anything exciting in this issue?" She leaned over.

"I bought this one for Wang Zixu's Fire in the Stone."

"Wang Zixu? Are you still looking at Wang Zixu?" He Yang Yuxiao was a little surprised.

Hearing the conversation between the two, Ye Zhihan, who was not far away, also raised her head and looked over.

(End of this chapter)