Inverness, the UK's northernmost city, has an oceanic climate, but has the coldest winter of any city in the UK, with temperatures dropping as low as -17.8. Because of its proximity to the Arctic Circle, it not only has an extremely cold climate all year round, but also has the longest summer of any city in the UK, with temperatures reaching 29 on some days.

In March, in other cities, it is the season of spring and the revival of all things, but at the moment in Inverness is still swept by the icy cold wind, and there is a white snow everywhere, this small city seems to have become a veritable snow city.

Isaac Anderson, a journalist for the London Daily News, came to Inverness to photograph the snow and bring it back to London to give a piece of news to Londoners who were having afternoon tea and having a good time.

"Whew, it's cold in here. ”

Walking down the street, Anderson couldn't help but sneeze, if it weren't for his work, he wouldn't have come to such a cold place.

After taking a few photos of the snow-covered building, Anderson finally couldn't stand the cold and was ready to go back to the warm room of the hotel to rest. Soon, when he arrived downstairs at the hotel, he noticed a bookstore not far away, and thought that he would have to take it here for a week, and it would be good to buy a book.

Ten minutes later, only a "click" was heard, and the door of the hotel room was opened.

Anderson walked in with his newly purchased book, felt the warmth of the room, threw his coat on the bed, and sat down at the small desk in the room.

"Game of Thrones! ”

Looking at the text and pictures on the cover, Anderson raised his eyebrows, the book had been promoted in London as early as last month, but it was not published when he arrived in Inverness, but he didn't expect it to be available in the bookstore today.

"In a game of thrones, if you don't win, you're dead, there's no middle ground. Summer is dying, winter is coming, wolves are howling at night......"

The prologue is very short but very exciting, and Anderson can't help but exclaim in his heart.

"Tolkien, my God, it's actually a foreword written by Mr. Tolkien himself, it seems that this book should be very good, otherwise it would not have been so praised by Mr. Tolkien!"

As an Englishman, Tolkien's name is almost universally known, and Anderson is no exception.

Seeing that this great writer highly recommended it, Anderson also patiently began to read it slowly.

Winter nights always come early, and by four o'clock in the afternoon, the sky is already dark, and the last rays of light have set in the west.

In the dark night, the city lights illuminate a patch, as if in the cold snow, there is a raging flame, bringing hope and light.

The time unconsciously came to eight o'clock in the evening, and the cold wind howling outside, like a miserable wail, was so frightening and terrifying.

"Game of Thrones" is a magical continent, a world where power and desire are intertwined, and people are full of betrayal, evil, and greed...... Court struggles, battlefield battles, travel adventures and magical confrontations are like a real second world, with distinct characters and suspenseful plots, which immerse Anderson in this book.

"Oh my god, this story is amazing!"

It wasn't until Anderson was hungry that he came back to his senses and realized that it was already nine o'clock in the evening, and he couldn't help but clench his fists fiercely and praise the book for being so wonderful.

In order to be able to read it all night, he hurriedly went out, bought a little cooked food at a 24-hour convenience store opened nearby, and hurried back to the hotel, eating food while reading a book.

It wasn't until after six o'clock in the morning that he finally read through the night.

His eyes were bloodshot, not only did he not feel tired, but he felt energetic, picked up the brand-name fountain pen that he had spent two hundred pounds on, wrote a review of the book on the letterhead, and quickly completed a thousand-word essay.

After writing it, Anderson immediately called the hotel staff and asked them to mail the letter to the London Times in the United Kingdom.

What Anderson didn't know was that at this moment, "Game of Thrones" had already set off a huge sensation in London, England, as a fantasy masterpiece comparable to "The Lord of the Rings", and with a foreword written by Tolkien himself, sales had exceeded 100,000 copies in the first week.

The editor-in-chief of Thames Publishing has long since lost his teeth in laughter.

……

On the other side, outside the emergency room of St. Paul's Hospital on Hong Kong Island, Huo Yaowen and Yao Wenjie hurried over.

Zhang Chengyi saw that someone was coming, got up and said, "Yaowen, you're here!"

The Foundation was relatively close to the hospital, and he rushed over as soon as he received the information.

"Teacher. ”

Huo Yaowen nodded, turned to look at the Wu family who came over and asked, "What's the matter? Hasn't Old Wu been in good health recently? Why was he suddenly sent to the hospital and given a critical illness notice." ”

Wu Liande can be said to be Fok Yaowen's earliest right-hand man, not only helping him to keep the HKU Press tightly organized, but also relying on his many contacts in his early years, he recommended many Hong Kong publishing companies and writers and literati who wrote manuscripts, and the relationship is naturally quite deep.

The Wu family was annoyed: "It's all my fault, the nanny went out to buy vegetables, and I was busy dealing with the business of "Good Friends" in the study, who would have thought that my father would actually get out of bed and pour water by himself, and he also fell." ”

"Okay, now is not the time to blame yourself, what did the doctor say?"

Wu's family infarction said: "The doctor said that my father had a stroke, and this fall caused a cerebral hemorrhage directly, and he was still being rescued inside, but... I'm afraid ......"

"Alas......"

Hearing this, Zhang Chengyi sighed deeply.

"Click"

The lights in the emergency room went out, and a doctor in a surgical gown walked out, and everyone surrounded him at once, only to see the doctor take off his mask, with a hint of sadness in his tired face, and listened: "I'm sorry everyone, we did our best." ”

When the bad news hit, Wu's family sat directly on the ground.

Huo Yaowen's face was not very good at the moment, his face was pale, he never expected Wu Lao to leave like this.

Zhang Chengyi on the side staggered a few steps, and with the support of Huo Yaowen, he finally stood firm, only to see that his face was full of sadness and sadness. Wu Liande, as his old friend for twenty or thirty years, is now separated forever, and grief fills his heart.

When the bad news came out, friends who had a good relationship with Wu Liande, or people who had dealt with him, published eulogies in the newspaper.

After three suspensions and two republications, the pictorial "Liangyou" finally resumed publication for the third time on March 12, 1972.

The cover of the first issue of the republished magazine is a restored personal photo of Wu Liande in his early years, with a thickened and bold font on the photo, which reads: "Wu Liande, the father of Chinese pictorial, has been fighting for good friends all his life"

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