Lin Miao ate a lot at noon, so she wanted to sleep when she was full, but when she woke up, there was no one at home.

Mom and Dad didn't even leave a word, so they ran outside in broad daylight, Lin Miao could guess with her toes that she must have gone to the dance hall again. It is thanks to these two that they were not born ten or twenty years late, otherwise they will definitely become problem Internet addicts.

Lin Miao got up from the bed, stretched her muscles, and got dressed.

Then he went downstairs, hugged the thermos that was huge for his small body, and poured himself a cup of hot tea with all odds.

Quenched his thirst, rinsed his mouth, and then took advantage of the fact that the yard was empty, and ran outside the door to put water again.

With everything ready, Lin Miao washed her hands and went upstairs, taking out the paper and pen she bought in the morning from her schoolbag.

After several days of grinding, writing a book, which is related to poverty alleviation and prosperity, can finally start to operate.

Lin Miao opened the door of the balcony and let the breeze blow in a little.

Then I found a chair of just the right height, brought my own small bench, and faced the balcony door, while enjoying the rare sunshine after days of rain, and began to think about what to write.

In fact, the writing environment in this place is good.

The yard is quiet. Because most of the people in the neighborhood rely on the business of the vegetable market to make a living, they usually get up early in the morning, and during the noon period, most of them either stay at the stalls in the vegetable market or rest at home.

It's just the energetic kids who make noise.

But now, without Lin Miao's child, they can't quarrel anywhere. After all, not all children can organize 80% of the children in the yard at one time like Lin Miao to play a silly game together.

"What should I write......

After Lin Miao was in a daze for 10 minutes, there was still not a word on the paper.

But Lin Miao was not in a hurry.

This is the norm in the secretarial profession.

Thinking, this thing, either doesn't come, or is as unstoppable as a torrent.

He stood up and walked out onto the balcony, intending to look at the black tiles on the roof of his neighbor's house to brew his feelings and find inspiration.

Speaking of Lin Miao's balcony, it is probably the best place in this dilapidated house.

Not to mention the excellent lighting, the most rare thing is that it is large enough, and it is about 12 square meters by visual inspection.

Jiang Ping has nothing to do on weekdays, she always likes to take out the quilt covers, pillowcases, and bed sheets at home and wash them again, especially when the washing machine enters the house, she even engages in a big cleaning campaign at two ends in three days, which is more diligent than Lin Miao playing with toys.

And a large pile of bed sheets and other large items after washing can be hung on the balcony to dry at one time, turning into a maze

When he was a child, Lin Miao would shuttle back and forth between the freshly washed sheets, pretending that he was practicing secret methods such as ninjutsu. However, if you are too forgetful of yourself, you will usually be dragged into the house by Jiang Ping and beaten up. Because it is easy to stain the sheets.

Later, one year, Lin Miao suddenly became obsessed with calligraphy, so she scribbled on the wall of the balcony with a brush.

The results of those graffiti were later regarded as treasures by Lin Guorong, and they were not erased until the house was demolished.

Jiang Ping didn't do any laundry today, and the balcony was empty. Lin Miao looked around along the wall, and the wall was clean, not even half a word. Obviously, before the first grade, he couldn't do what he owed so much.

Lin Miao grabbed the handrail of the balcony again and tiptoed.

He remembered that when he was a little older, he often climbed on the handrail and did unprotected extreme sports on it.

At that time, there were often neighbors who shouted in a hurry because they saw him sacrifice their lives on the railing, but he was a real skin when he was a child, and the more anxious the neighbors, the more chaotic he became. Originally, at most, it was walking around, and as soon as people called it, it was directly changed to trot. Lin Miao estimated that if he hadn't learned gymnastics when he was a child, it was very likely that he would have spun Thomas on the handrail of the balcony. The height of the balcony handrail from the ground is about three meters five, as long as the head does not hit the ground, you will generally not die, but there is definitely no problem with a third-level cripple.

"What was going on in my head at the time?"

Lin Miao moved the small bench out of the house, stood up and looked downstairs, and in the next second, he directly dispelled the idea of revisiting the old and learning the new.

Seconds.

"I'm grass, it turns out that my brother was also a pure man who regarded death as home, what a hero!" Lin Miao boasted to herself, and then couldn't help but tell the truth, "Damn, children really have no brains, and they don't know how to write the word 'death' ......at all."

After entertaining herself on the balcony for a long time, Lin Miao sat down again, and it was already 40 minutes later.

But inspiration came.

Now that I'm back, why don't I write about my current situation?

"Miscellaneous Conversations in the Small Courtyard". Lin Miao opened a question, and after a little thought, the words poured out from the tip of the pen, "The place where I was born is called Tianji Lane, and it is rumored that it was once the place where the staff officers of the army were stationed in ancient times, and then after hundreds of years of construction, it finally formed an architectural ......style that has been preserved from the Republic of China period to the present."

Something written specifically for money doesn't need to be examined at all.

So in Lin Miao's pen, except for the three words "Tianji Lane" that are true, everything else is nonsense.

But nonsense is good at nonsense, the author writes lightly, and the reader looks at it more easily.

And once Lin Miao's earth-to-earth magic skills are released, they can't stop.

He only hates that he doesn't have a computer these years, and the speed of writing is a little bit uncatchable, plus the occasional pen forgets to write, and he has to mark a shameful pinyin on it first, and wait for a while to finish writing, and then check the dictionary to fry it. It's a pity that the pinyin written with a ballpoint pen can't erase the traces like pencil words, and it will be a bit of a loss of face if it is handed over as a manuscript in the future.

Lin Miao wrote about 1,500 words in one go, using a full 4 pages of 400 sheets of paper.

When he rubbed his delicate little hands and put down the pen, Lin Guorong and Jiang Ping came back.

Lin Miao stood up from the chair and was shocked to realize that almost two and a half hours had passed.

At a young age, I even felt a slight backache.

He gently hammered his waist, and Lin Guorong had already walked upstairs.

Lao Lin had been thinking about Lin Miao's "calligraphy works" for a long time, and when he saw that his son's new works came out, he immediately picked them up and appreciated them carefully.

Then he pretended to instruct while watching: "Is it more appropriate to change this 'some' in this sentence to 'many'?"

People who are engaged in writing work can't stand this kind of tone of half a bucket of water.

Lin Miao directly scolded back and said, "Dad, you either watch quietly, or don't speak, don't pretend to understand, okay?"

Lin Guorong couldn't hold back his face at this time, and immediately replied: "Don't you be the same, you can't even recognize the words, and you still have to use pinyin, you are still far behind!"

Nima, it's really a big loophole, and computers make people degenerate......

Lin Miao was too lazy to argue with Lin Guorong, and went downstairs without saying a word.

Lin Guorong couldn't help but feel a little lost when he saw his son being angry, he took Lin Miao's manuscript, sat on the sofa, looked at the paper full of profound skills, and sighed in his heart - his son has not grown up yet, and he can't keep up with him.

I regret that I didn't go to high school......

Lin Miao didn't feel as much emotion as Lao Lin, and all he was thinking about now was how to finish this book.

The outline of this book has actually taken shape.

Lin Miao planned to write down all the people, things, and things that could be written in the yard.

There are fish sellers at the entrance of the alley, shoe repairers at the end of the alley, hairdressers from the east family, tailors from the west family, as well as the old well in the courtyard, the ancient trees in the alley, the Buddhist shrine in the hidden place, the pigeon raised on the top of the highest building, the earth dog at the door, the sheep intestine path paved with bluestone, the messy wires in the air, the basket with nowhere to place, the cries in the vegetable market in the early morning, and the Qin dialect coming out of the radio of Ah Gong next door......

Zero and zero, there are enough 30 articles, plus the prologue written today, and a vision for the small courtyard ten years later, it should be enough to write 50,000 words. This length, out of this book, is just right.

Lin Miao came down from the upper floor and looked at the pedestrians walking by the door.

Calm down, he thinks the nineties are really good.

There are not so many temptations, and people can always focus on one thing calmly.

Turning her head, Lin Miao saw her father's writing on the edge of the door again.

Tianji Lane, No. 7, Lane 71.

Written with a brush dipped in red ink, Lishu, the penmanship is round and elegant, and it looks better than what is printed.

Dad actually has some skills, at least in the matter of calligraphy, he actually threw Lin Miao several streets.

Lin Miao can only write with a hard pen, and the font is only limited to the line letters.

But Lin Guorong is different, no matter soft or hard, he can use any pen, and he can operate with a branch. The proficient range of fonts is Kai, line, grass, and Li. And I've never learned from anyone, it's purely hard to rely on talent.

"Awesome......" Lin Miao looked at her father's words, and remembered his miserable situation later, her heart softened, and she turned her head and shouted upstairs: "Dad! I was wrong! I think you are still very awesome!"

Lin Guorong, who was in a daze upstairs, couldn't help but bend the corners of his mouth when he heard this, and whispered: "Nonsense, I'm your father!"