Under the guidance of Xiao Yu, the waiter drove into the Guhuai Garden and stopped in front of a three-storey, ten-meter-wide antique building.

"Thank you, tip, fifty yuan." Xiao Yu took out fifty yuan from his pocket. Hand it to the waiter.

"I can't ask for it, I'll be criticized when I go back." The waiter got out of the car, made a hand gesture and walked away.

Xiao Yu was in front, and the three mermaids rushed into the villa. There were a lot of people in the hall. A large group of men and women sat around the case.

The decoration of the whole room is the ancient style of Zhonghua, which is simple and simple, and modern geometry. The large window hangs the floor-to-ceiling long gauze silk embroidered curtain, the famous paintings and calligraphy of the ancients and today, hanging on the wall of the ironed wallpaper, there is the one that Zhang Bo brought to her yesterday, the Chinese painting "Sunset Picture" painted by Miao Qing, its technique, thick, light, dry, wet, deep, shallow is just right, its bone method with a pen, the force can carry the tripod, the pen in the center, the side, the reverse front, the drag pen, the scattered front is really amazing, go along the hair, stretch smoothly. It only took Xiao Yu a little more than a day to have the framer frame it hung, which is enough to show how much she cherishes this painting.

Zhang Bo didn't continue to look at it, because Xiao Yu Zhouguang and his appearance attracted the attention of everyone present, and there were many young writers among them. Writers' Symposium.

"I have brought gifts to everyone, these two are authentic rural vernacular writers, welcome." Xiao Yu took the lead in applauding, and everyone also welcomed it. This gift really had to be accepted, and it was actually two people.

Zhang Bo glanced at Zhou Guang, Zhou Guang was a little hairy, he had never seen this formation, so many gods. Spotted, eye-wearing, white-haired, crepe-ridden, thin-eyed and bright-nosed, youthful. It's all talented and talented.

An old man with a spotted top at the head of the case got up from his seat and beckoned Zhang Bo to sit down. Xiao Yu turned around and pushed Zhang Bo and asked Zhang Bo to come over, and the old man came over and pulled Zhang Bo over and sat beside him as if he were a young man.

"My name is Soothing, a literature lover and I've written several books. The rustic, the sound is not high, and it sinks in the sea of nets. I still want to continue creating, but I can't find the feeling with the memory of when I cut in line. Soothing was very amiable and said, "There is no progress in writing." ”

"Senior, you sit, my name is Zhang Bo." Zhang Bo was very polite and polite.

"Sit down. Listen to President Xiao said, your "Ballad of the Reclining Buddha" may be popular. The click-through rate is rising day by day, and the commercial value must have a future, so we sixteen people who love the countryside gather together, most of us are old plugs of the year, and we are waiting for your arrival and talk about our experiences after President Xiao's other arrangements. "Soothing is very sincere.

"I'm not as good as everybody. before trying to write. Zhang Bo said.

"Sensei modest, let's talk to everyone!" Said soothingly.

Xiao Yu and Zhou Guang sat on the sofa in the second row. A young maid specializes in cooking and pouring water. Ma Li gave Xiao Yu and Zhou Guang a cup, and then made another cup and sent it to Zhang Bo, and looked at Zhang Bo intentionally or unintentionally.

"I'd like to hear your opinions." Zhang Bo said.

"Let's talk about it, there are all people drowned in the sea of Wen below. Those who drink fantasy soup choke. Those who eat sci-fi meat, choke. Traversal. Can't run fast. There is no time for cultivation, mythology is good for dreaming, Xianxia does not understand righteousness, Tanmei is always shy, and martial arts have no tricks. The great man has never seen it, orthodoxy is not fashionable, etc., etc., just wait for you, a rower, to come, can you save everyone. The bespectacled, thin, thin-faced young man said with a wilted voice. Said coldly, said yin and yang weirdly, said hangerlang, said frustratedly, there are all kinds of ingredients.

"Today is fate, throwing bricks and stones, first of all, I was sent a gift." Zhang Bo deliberately misused the words.

Everyone laughed loudly, Xiao Yu was in the back row, ancestor, you are amazing.

Zhou Guang glanced at Xiao Yu's red face, and he was happy in his heart. President, play, someone will cook a pot for you. Dig a pit and bury you.

"I'm a native of the countryside, and I hated the Tuba Road when the Japanese invaded China. The novel I wrote, The Ballad of the Reclining Buddha, has no sect. One is not like a horse, two is not like a donkey, three is not like a sheep, and four is not like a pig. When I was young, I loved literature no less than a woman who loved herself. In the countryside, my family has been a doctor for generations, and I am now fifty and one, and my work has only come out on the Internet today, and I really started to write, starting from the winter of three years ago, and in the middle of the decades, I have to devote myself to practicing medicine and serving the people, so as to make a plan. Zhang Bo's ridiculous language is eloquent.

"Born in the countryside, write about the countryside, write about the peasants' labor, write about the peasants' struggles, write about their psychology and living customs. For example, if an old lady who sacrifices to the sky during the Spring Festival snorts, she is very likely to say in prayer, God, open your eyes, don't let your neighbors live a good life, let me live well. It's okay to write like this, but it can't be lifelike. If you change the way of writing: she burns incense and makes offerings to drink, kneels on the ground and prays, and there are words in her mouth, saying: God Grandpa open his eyes, don't die to his neighbors..., one head knocks, the sky spins, the two heads knock down, the eyes are full of gold bricks, and the three heads are knocked, and the face is full of red light. Zhang Bo went down the ladder of writing and sipped his tea.

Everyone laughed again, and then they all applauded.

Xiao Yu smiled forward and back, his soothing smile hair fell, and the young man smiled so much that he clasped his hands together, Amitabha.

"My Wenzun, don't stop, keep talking, I'll burn incense for you until dawn. Guanyin Bodhisattva who saves suffering. The young man with his hands folded said.

"My mother, no wonder we can't write good works, let him use magic to collect them! Zhou Guang was moved to tears. Enlightenment.

"Regarding the description of love, we have to use the perspective of farmers to describe love, red sorghum is planted in the field, the big girl goes in red clothes, how about the young man go in? You can associate with yourself, according to your own level, spread the wings of association, let the sorghum plant on the young man's head, red on the girl's face, and give birth to a little girl like red sorghum in the coming year! Zhang Bo's heavenly voice vibrated in the villa, in the hall.

In the hall, the writers' emotions were very high, and Xiao Yu involuntarily stood up and leaned forward, for fear of losing every word.

Shu was very excited, and his white hair almost touched Zhang Bo's face and ears, because he saw Zhang Bo too close. He opened the notebook and wrote hard, for fear of missing a word, and wrote carefully and auspiciously, with every word of gold beads and every word of article.

"A cold and fever are not the same, let the despicable people burn their hearts in a panic, make the kind people insignificant, let the madman roll in pain all over the bed, let the neurosis burn to the mother, let the corrupt officials burn the heart, and a wolf is drilled into the heart, and the dream of day and night pushes him into the water with ghosts and gods, and dreams of black and white impermanence day and night, catch him and go to see the king of Hades." Zhang Bo's slow and urgent speed of speech struck everyone's pen, and the words were like mountains and flowing water, and the water of the Yellow River flowing into the sea and ocean.

"I am a doctor, virtuous and sophisticated, erudite and far-reaching, is the direction I am heading, in this ancient land, not only to extensively treat the physical wounds of the people, but also to treat the spiritual wounds, in the land under my feet, there are thousands of years of peasant thoughts, excavated, clarified, there must be gold, there must be dross, a needle, a handful of grass, double combination, to a disembowelment, brainwashing and intestines, open up the soil of human nature and goodness." Zhang Bo took a sip of tea.

The maid stood there stupidly with the pot in her hand, forgetting to flush the water on. Hey! How is it a bit like Shi Yan, isn't she in school, because the work hat covers the light, the work clothes cover the neck, the ponytail is crossed behind the head, and the mask covers the mouth. I can't see what she looks like.

"Teacher Zhang, go on, you are the father and mother of literature." The young man with the eyes burst into tears from under his glasses, and he was confused.

"Let's talk about the deeper details." The soothing voice is like a begging, like the old 60 cannon in the army, "Dong one." ＂

"I can't talk about it at a deep level, I think it in my heart. Walking on the golden sand, picking up a handful of sand, each grain of sand is absolutely different, the old man counts the loss of years, the child counts the golden fantasies, the lover counts the number of sweet words, the miser counts the banknotes. The waves are definitely not generally large, and the height of the two islands is different; Step writing: Step writing, the first order is higher than the first order, the writing is good, but the cliché, we can't break the routine for what we can't do, let the first order empty in the step upgrade, small plot and big story, write on the side, so that the reader has the desire for beauty. "Zhang Bo's voice is soft, like a military horn ringing.

"Men don't have the same figure, women don't have the same children, and in this world, twins won't be the same, the appearance is the same, the quality is different, the environment is different, which requires the observation of detailed life." Zhang Bo looked around at everyone and continued: "Go into the depths of their souls, whether they are ugly, handsome, bright, dark, healthy, pathological, whether they use lasers or Kama knives, they all dig them out, and put them in bowls of different sizes and put them on the table, so that readers can taste what it is like." Thank you! ″

Zhang Bo stopped talking at this point, and the hall was so quiet that people could hear the sound of the lamp. Exaggeration.

To be continued (To be continued......

PS: There was a class reunion some time ago, I was looking at the bright moon in front of the window, and I heard the voices of the writers there...!

After writing some text, I sat for a long time and felt a little pain in my femoral head, so my wife had to add a cushion to the chair.