Zheng Long's home. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 infoThe three of them sat around the table.

"Hey, Xiaohai is not a bad person, why does he always like to gamble?"

Qian Lizhen sighed while eating.

"If you want me to say, once this person gets involved in gambling, it's over. No matter how good a person is, he will become like a ghost! ”

Zheng Nanxing said with a sigh while chewing dried bamboo shoots.

Listening to Zheng Nanxing's words, Qian Lizhen sighed again.

Zheng Long was sandwiched between the two, and he didn't know what to say, so he had to take a mouthful of fermented bean curd and send it to the mouth.

The bean curd was a little sour, but Zheng Long vaguely tasted a little bitterness.

Zheng Long's family is one of the most ordinary families in Pucheng. After his grandmother died last summer, the family members became parents and himself. His father, Zheng Nanxing, and his mother, Qian Lizhen, are both teachers at Pucheng Primary School, and they are both timid and afraid of things. Perhaps because of the personality of the parents, the social aspect of the family is very narrow, let alone any connections.

Although the ancestral home of the family is not small, it is a real estate and cannot be easily realized. And there is such an uncle in the family who comes to borrow money every now and then. The first few times Zheng Nanxing couldn't bear to see Zheng Xiaohai suffer, even if his family was not rich, he still gritted his teeth and borrowed money, but this time, he decided not to borrow money anymore.

In fact, it's not that he made up his mind that he doesn't want to lend money to his uncle, but the situation at home, he really can't borrow a penny!

"Hey, my salary is in arrears again this month, and the principal told us that we will go to the Municipal Education Bureau in two days to ask for the account, who knows when we will get it."

"Hey, isn't it, there are no gifts for the holidays this year. In previous years, I gave a bag of rice on Teacher's Day, but now it's good, and I'm completely poor. ”

Qian Lizhen is not the kind of woman who is particularly greedy for money, but in front of firewood, rice, oil and salt, she still can't help but make careful calculations. Fortunately, the room is rented out at home, and a little rent can be used to subsidize the family, otherwise these salaries will not be paid, and the family will really have to drink the northwest wind.

In 2001, due to some reasons such as the country's economic transformation, some enterprises and institutions in Pucheng City could not pay wages for a while, but fortunately, this period did not last long. At that time, it was the period when Zheng Long was growing up, but the Zheng family could not afford to come up with the money to buy him nutritional products, which made Zheng Long remember it vividly.

Looking at his parents' sad faces, Zheng Long suddenly put down his chopsticks and said solemnly:

"Dad, Mom, you don't have to worry about money, I'll earn it!"

Qian Lizhen and Zheng Nanxing looked at each other, and they didn't know what to say for a while. It is said that when the child suddenly says this, the parents should be moved, but for a child to say such things, the shame of the parents is also extreme.

Qian Lizhen looked at Zheng Long distressedly, and said earnestly:

"What nonsense are you talking about. Your task now is to study hard, and you don't care about money, you know no. ”

Zheng Long nodded.

The kindness and love of parents for themselves are often not directly spoken, but they are contained in bits and pieces.

Although Zheng Nanxing and Qian Lizhen didn't have much to give Zheng Long, they gave everything they could, at least ensuring that Zheng Long had a simple and complete student life.

Every time he thought of this, Zheng Long couldn't help but want to burst into tears.

After work, Zheng Long still maintains the habit of going home often.

The kindness of his parents to him will always be the most difficult for Zheng Long to give up.

Since he was born again, he must use his own golden key to improve the situation of his family as soon as possible.

If possible, it's best to save the uncle who didn't make it.

Zheng Long knew that in the previous life, his uncle who was addicted to gambling ended up very tragic - because he owed high gambling debts and did not want to affect his family, he hid in the park to sleep, and finally clashed with the homeless man for grabbing the quilt and was beaten to death.

In the previous life, Zheng Long was not impressed by his "legendary" uncle, perhaps because he died early. But in this life, it is his duty to do something.

However, it is too early to say that.

No. 76, Julu Road, Jing'an District, Haishi City.

A quiet small western-style building, hidden behind a few pines and cypresses, is not conspicuous.

On the side of the street are the usual shops, and the four King Kongs of the morning have an ordinary atmosphere.

Then, almost every house here has a shocking history behind it.

It is not the former residence of the rich of the Republic of China, or the former residence of the comprador of a foreign bank. The French plane trees on both sides of the road have witnessed the changes of the world and the turn of the years.

For a considerable period of time, it was an important town in the Chinese literary world - "Maritime Literature", "October", "Budding" magazine, etc., carrying the literary memories of several generations, making Haishang and Kyoto City the two most important cities in the Chinese literary world.

Unlike Kyoto, which has a strong sense of culture, Kaidai is a city that has only opened its port in the past 100 years, and has formed its own unique Shanghainese culture. Especially in the twenties and thirties of the last century, here is the paradise of adventurers, ten miles of oceans, bright lights, in that era of beacons, the sea market represents the drunken gold fans of China, when it was known as the Oriental New York, the largest city in the Far East.

And the writers who said that the sea was listed are even more numerous. Wang Anyi, Yan Geling is one of the representatives. Of course, in 2016, if you go to the street and ask anyone who can represent maritime literature, a large number of people will probably say that it is Guo Mingming's "Little Times".

This is the change that the media has brought to us.

Far from it. The maritime literary scene in 2001, although it cannot be said to be a complete backwater, is not far off. Since the wave of root-seeking literature, avant-garde literature, and poetry in the 80s has ebbed and dissipated, the importance of literature has declined sharply in people's lives, even to the point of dispensability.

The scene of the 80s when 10,000 people sang long live the hymn is gone forever. Literature began to be rapidly commercialized, and it began to become more and more dependent on film and television – and in this regard, the city of Kyoto had an unrivaled advantage.

The center of the Chinese film industry is no longer the pre-liberation overseas listing. Many famous art schools such as Chinese opera, Nortel, Zhongchuan, and Beiwu have provided a steady stream of artistic talents to Kyoto City; And the braggart atmosphere under the roots of the imperial city that Kyoto City has always had has also added fuel to the fire of the linkage between literature and film and television. It can be said that the emergence of Wang Shuo is such a typical representative.

At this time, the sea market seemed a little lifeless.

Although it still has an incomparable advantage compared with the rest of the country, the gap between it and Kyoto City in terms of literary status is getting wider and wider.

"Budding" magazine is located on the second floor of this small western-style building at No. 76 Julu Road. On the first floor, there is an auditorium and a public cafeteria for the Overseas Writers' Association, where well-known writers often come to give lectures and exchange ideas. On the third floor is the magazine "Maritime Literature", and on the fourth floor is the magazine "October". These ordinary and cold editors, at noon mealtime, are no different from ordinary people, and they have to eat mechanically and orderly.

On this day, editor Hu Future seemed a little excited.

Hu Future's face has never had such a clear expression of excitement - she is a typical girl who grew up on the sea, cold, arrogant, no matter what the situation, she must maintain the tone and style of a sea person, and she must not show the slightest bit of Zhang Huang and at a loss.

Therefore, Hu Future's expression is particularly abnormal.

"Sister Hu, what's the good thing today, look at you!"

The person who spoke was Shi Yi, a part-time editor who had just come to the "Bud" publishing house for an internship and had just graduated from the Chinese Department of East China Normal University.

"Hehe, I saw a very interesting manuscript today, I'll show you later."

"Good character, good character!"

Shi Yi also went upstairs after eating, thinking to himself, what kind of manuscript would make Sister Hu so excited?

It is said that Sister Hu is also an experienced old editor, and her taste for manuscripts should also be picky and abnormal, is it possible that there is really some magic in this manuscript?

Shi Yi shook his head, thinking that he was too funny - what kind of good articles can be written by those stinky middle school students! It's not just those loves, loves, at most, it's just a little disease-free moaning!

Sister Hu is making too much of a fuss!

"Well, that's the manuscript I just told you!"

As soon as Shi Yigang sat down in his seat, Hu Future hurriedly handed over the manuscript.

Shi Yi took the manuscript and reviewed it carefully-

Let's start with the title - "If there is no sun tomorrow".

It's cheesy!

In the end, it was strongly recommended by Sister Hu, and Shi Yi still read it patiently-

"If there is no sun tomorrow, how big will the next night be?

Born at zero degrees in the dark. Shu Ting's poem.

When the night swells again and again in a stubborn manner, the boundless darkness either stiffens me or makes my blood boil, and this state is very hysterical, I know it.

At night, I like to lie down on the bed alone, looking at the black canopy through the tall glass window, and watching the dark white clouds drift across the sky with a lonely and cool atmosphere.

I also like to crouch on the side of the road, watch the large sycamore leaves fall in a mess, and hug my knees if it's cold. It's a good posture, like a lonely good boy. If there is no sun tomorrow, I think I should shed a good tear in that dark night. ”

Reading this, Shi Yi had no choice but to despise it anymore, but held his breath, as if his whole heart was strongly attracted to the past-

"I divided the article into eight paragraphs, which is an auspicious number.

Winter is already deep, and I know that spring will soon be bright.

This winter was like a beautiful illusion, and everything was pressed into that thin, thin bright negative that lay on my heart. While the sun is fading and the calendar is getting thinner and thinner, there is more and more text on my computer. It was filled with my beautiful hallucinations, like a gorgeous garbage dump. When I cleaned up my words the day before I left for Shanghai, I felt like a happy little beggar.

If there is no sun tomorrow, I know it's fake.

But my black poems, the starry sky above my head and feet, the lonely posture I crouched on the side of the road, my English dictionary, the long-haired girl across my house, the road I saw walked by lanterns, these are all true.

And the Chinese New Year, I want to hurry up and go home quickly. ”

Read it all.

Shi Yiyi felt a powerful shock that poured into her heart, shattering her heart.

A feeling that I don't know where it came from, as if it was rising from the bottom of my heart.

To tell the truth, Guo Mingming must not be the first class in the Chinese literary world if he wants to be talented in essays; Even many of the companies he would later founded were superior to him in literary talent, and his talent was primarily commercial; But in the early days, Guo Mingming's literary writing ability was still quite outstanding among his peers.

Shi Yizhong looked at "If There Was No Sun Tomorrow" again, and couldn't help but fall into deep thought.