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In the midst of scolding, Chai Guosheng kicked the accelerator and blasted out far away. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

However, just when he was ready to be intimidated by the evil ghost, he listened to soft music on the radio, and at the same time, the plot took a turn: Ning Caichen was favored by his sister in the middle of the night because he peeped at someone else's party.

"Grass, this is a ghost story?"

Although it had been expected that what Ning Caichen saw were ghosts, such a glamorous . It still made Chai Guosheng scold with envy, jealousy and hatred.

As the plot deepened, Chai Guosheng had forgotten that this was a ghost story, and Xiaoqian's kindness and helplessness were also forgiven with her life experience, not only that, but when she heard that she was going to be controlled by monsters after death and had to suck human blood, a wave of anger rushed up.

Chai Guosheng didn't notice that at this moment, his emotions had been completely mobilized by the story, and he had ups and downs with the play.

The cowardly but stubborn Ning Caichen, the frightened Yan Chixia by ghosts, the pitiful but kind Xiaoqian, and the cold-blooded tree demon, all vivid images appeared in front of his eyes.

Unconsciously, half an hour passed, and the program on the radio came to an end, and the ending of Ning Caichen and Xiaoqian also came to an end in the prelude to Leslie Cheung's "A Chinese Ghost Story", "Thank you for listening to "Midnight Chat Zhai", I am Meng Ke, at the same time tomorrow, I will bring you "Strange Stories", welcome everyone to continue listening at the same time tomorrow night." ”

Citylink?

Hearing this name, Chai Guosheng subconsciously looked at the time, roughly calculated the start time of "Midnight Chat", and looked at the channel segment, before stepping on the accelerator and driving away.

===

"Whew! It's finally over. ”

Meng Ke stretched out in his chair and looked at his watch, it was already two o'clock in the morning.

To say that this village channel is a fuck, there is not even recording equipment, the midnight channel is all live broadcast, if he hadn't written it on the manuscript earlier, it would be difficult to stick to it with this brain.

turned off the equipment, spent the night in the broadcast studio, and the next morning, Meng Ke returned to the rental house, and before he entered the door, he saw Aunt Zhao standing at the door of the unit and scolding her little daughter, "Tell me about you, how did the teacher teach you?" Are you that stupid? You can't even write a poem if you are asked to write it, and you weren't allowed to play when it snowed last year or what? How can you be so stupid. ”

"Aunt Zhao, what's wrong? Such a big fire early in the morning. Meng Ke pushed the wheelchair over.

Aunt Zhao has two daughters, the eldest daughter Zhao Jin is twenty this year, and the youngest daughter Zhao Xuan is only seven or eight years old this year, which is when she was in elementary school.

Seeing Meng Ke coming, Zhao Xuan buried his head in his chest and rubbed his school uniform nervously.

"Oh, it's Xiao Ke," Aunt Zhao smiled bitterly at Meng Ke, "What can there be, it's not Xuanxuan, it's not good at studying at all, yesterday the teacher asked her to write poems, and the whole class handed it in, so she couldn't write it, if it wasn't for the teacher calling me over, I wouldn't know about it." ”

In the end, Aunt Zhao was angry again, and poked Zhao Xuan's head with her fingers, "Tell me about you, what can you do, you know how to play every day, and you don't know how to work hard at all." ”

Zhao Xuan held his head, his innocent eyes full of tears.

"If you don't study well, you still have a crying face."

"Aunt Zhao, the child is still young, don't be so excited," Meng Ke interrupted Aunt Zhao with a smile, turned his head and asked Zhao Xuan with a smile, "Xuanxuan, what poem did the teacher ask you to write?" ”

"Poems about snow." Zhao Xuan held his mouth, tears rolling in his eyes.

"Did the teacher say, what kind of poem should I be?"

The most indispensable thing in China is poetry, but because there is no shortage, poetry has been baptized by successive dynasties, and it is even more diverse in terms of classification and faction.

Although Meng Ke does not know much about the extent to which the current Chinese poetry has developed, he also knows that in the current Chinese China, the carrier of poetry is more branches in the development of five-character poems, seven-character poems, and miscellaneous poems.

Even though Meng Ke was willing to help, he had to figure out the ins and outs of the matter first.

Zhao Xuan shook his head.

"Look at it, look at it," Aunt Zhao pointed at Zhao Xuan with hatred, "What a simple task the teacher assigns, she can't write it, you have paste in your head?" ”

"It's not that I don't write," Zhao Xuan completely collapsed, crying wow, "I ...... I've written a lot, teacher...... The teacher said it was not good, so let me rewrite it...... I...... I've written it all...... Woowoo"

"What's wrong with the teacher asking you to rewrite? Rewriting is your own problem, crying and crying, you know crying, not studying well and crying in your face. ”

"Aunt Zhao, don't be angry first, child, take your time."

Hearing Meng Ke say this, Aunt Zhao sighed, "Alas, Xiao Ke, don't you know, I was ignorant when I was young, I got married early, and now I don't have any ink in my stomach, I don't want these two children to follow my old path, tell me, what can I do if I don't study these years?" As soon as everyone came out, they all graduated from college, their families were better, and they all let their children study for doctorates, I didn't have any skills, so I thought about sending Xiao Jin and Xuan Xuan to graduate school, at least they came out and had a better life than me. ”

Aunt Zhao, this is the truth.

According to the memories of the original owner's previous life, Meng Ke also knew that although the current Huaxia is full of humanistic care, under the thirteen-year compulsory education system, the soft power competition in the entire Huaxia is stronger than that in the previous life, especially for undergraduates, which is almost the same as graduating from junior high school in the previous life.

Of course, there are also some people who choose to drop out of school and work, but in the environment of soft power competition, life is not very satisfactory, and the parents of the original owner are living cases, which is also the main reason why Meng Ke is so miserable now.

"But you can't be in a hurry when writing poetry," Meng Ke smiled, "I think Xuanxuan is very smart, and if there is a case, he will definitely write a good poem." ”

"I also know this," Aunt Zhao's eyes dimmed, "but I don't have ink in my stomach, and I can't teach if I want to." ”

Meng Ke's eyes rolled, "That's it, Aunt Zhao, I'll write a poem for Xuanxuan first, so that she can have a reference, so that she can have an explanation in front of the teacher." ”

"Okay," Aunt Zhao breathed a sigh of relief, "Xiao Ke, thank you so much, don't you know, Xuanxuan is facing a quiz this time, and the performance in the classroom is usually counted in the comprehensive score, if she doesn't meet the standard, she has to go to the bad class, what do you say this bad class can be, those children ......"

"Aunt Zhao, give."

Before Aunt Zhao could finish speaking, Meng Ke had already handed her the paper and pen.

Aunt Zhao was instinctively stunned, in all fairness, she was a little envious of the ink in Meng Ke's stomach, but this envy did not make her dizzy.

Meng Ke enthusiastically agreed to help Xuanxuan write poems, but is writing poems overnight? Therefore, in her prediction, she will have to get Meng Ke's poems at least tomorrow.

"Can you read it and see if it's okay?" Meng Ke naturally ignored Aunt Zhao's shock and touched Xuanxuan's head with a smile.

"Hey, okay." Aunt Zhao came back to her senses and hurriedly read the poem in her hand.

Yongxue poems

One piece, two pieces, three or four pieces, five, six, seven, eight, ninety, and ten.

Thousands of pieces of countless pieces, flying into the plum blossoms are always gone.

This is the Yongxue poem written by Zheng Banqiao in the Ming Dynasty, and later became famous because of Qianlong's adaptation, although it seems simple, but it is full of innocence, in the previous life, this is a necessary subject for primary school poetry, Xuanxuan is only in the third grade now, so the first thing Meng Ke thought of was this poem.

Seeing that the embarrassment on Aunt Zhao's face became more and more intense, Meng Ke was not angry, Aunt Zhao dropped out of school to work before finishing junior high school, and got married when she reached the legal age.

"Ahem." Aunt Zhao coughed dryly, handed the manuscript paper to Xuanxuan, and said insincerely, "Okay, that's it, Xuanxuan, thank you, uncle." ”

"Thank you, uncle."

"Don't, just call my brother." Meng Ke said busily.

Seeing off Aunt Zhao and Xuanxuan, Meng Ke returned to the rental house, rushed into the back room, and as soon as he turned on the computer to log in to TT, Xiaobai's message popped up, "Zicai, go to Yingkong, something happened to Zichuan!" ”