Writing here, I wanted to finish the draft, but I couldn't stop the car, the memorial service was postponed for a while, let's go to see the one in the provincial capital, the literati are idle.

The provincial capital is a water city, every spring water, every household weeping willow, has long had the reputation of the provincial spring water in the world. The spring water dingdong.

Zhang Bo took a bus from Wencheng Station and took six hours to the provincial capital. Before leaving, Miao Qing called President Xiao Yu, and Zhang Bo naturally lost President Xiao Yu's phone number on his mobile phone. With a pocket, I took the sunset map of Nanhu Lake and came to the main station of the provincial station.

At the exit of the main station of the long-distance bus station, Xiao Yu wrote a hand card for the convenience of picking up people, and waited, "Mr. Zhang Bo", which is quite creative.

Xiao Yu is wearing goose yellow trousers, with stockings and high-heeled sandals, stockings, faintly seeing beautiful red toenails, a self-colored smock on the upper body, light blue sunglasses, high mane, fresh and refined truth, jade fingers and red lips and beautiful nose, revealing the beauty of a mature woman.

"You're President Xiao, right? Zhang Bo saw the sign, got out of the car and walked over.

"Yes, please show your ID." Xiao Yu put down the sign and seemed to smile. She looked at the tall middle-aged man in front of her.

"It's good." Zhang Bo took out his ID card from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Give it back to you, don't mind, I'm sorry, I haven't met." Xiao Yu was full of smiles, and the spring flowers were blooming. She took off her glasses to show respect, and the long eyelashes were blurry, showing that she was full of charm and demeanor.

"This is my business card, I'm Xiao Yu." casually took out a business card from the bag in his hand and handed it to Zhang Bo. She added.

"I'm sorry, but I still have to look at your ID." Because there is no photo on the business card. Zhang Bo said. It's not troublesome.

"I forgot to bring it, let's stay and see! Xiao Yu was amused by the other party's seriousness.

Zhang Bo didn't rush to go with her, but took out his mobile phone from his pocket and broadcast a call, and the mobile phone in Xiao Yu's bag rang with a voice prompt: Master. There's a stupid guy calling, and you can't answer. Zhang Bo turned off his mobile phone and humiliated himself, Xiao Yu smiled very embarrassedly. Meaning: I didn't mean to give you a bad shot.

"Get in the car, Mr. Zhang." Xiao Yu said that she opened the beige car door next to her. Put the sign in. Laughing and groaning.

"Thank you!" Zhang Bo got into the co-pilot, in order to talk.

"Old Miao's health is fine!" Xiao Yu greetings.

"As hard as an old locust tree." Zhang Bo replied.

Xiao Yu drove Shevlai, got out of the station, and slowly walked towards Wenhua West Road.

"Teacher Zhang will stay today to relieve his fatigue, and we will talk again tomorrow." Xiao Yu drove the car into the courtyard of a guest house facing the street.

"Guests are at your disposal, and listen to your arrangement." Zhang Blog is angry. He was about to get out of the car, but stopped again, from his bag. Pull the zipper, take out a picture scroll and say: "This is the "Sunset Picture" given to you by the painter's sister, because it is in a hurry, and the future is framed.

"Sunset." Xiao Yu was pleasantly surprised, took it, and said with a smile: "Miao Lao is really generous, this painting is a masterpiece." ”

"Teacher Zhang, this is a accommodation card and a dining card. I'm wronged, I'll treat you to dinner tomorrow. Xiao Yu exhibited the woman's characteristic smile.

"President Xie takes care of it." Zhang Bo took the double card from her. Push the car door, get out of the car and walk into the guest house building.

Xiao Yu looked at Zhang Bo's figure walking into the building, a blurry color appeared in his eyes, and he said in his heart: This man is really charming, he is forty years old, or thirty years old. It is impossible to judge his real annual meeting. Thoughtfully, she turned around and drove away in Schaeflae.

Zhang Bo lived in a guest house, which was as convenient as home, but there was a modern atmosphere here, bathing and bathing. Changing clothes and eating, he was informed, and in the evening, he did not go out, but just stood in front of the window facing the street, looking at the street scene of the convoy. If the road in my hometown is the same as here, it will be more advanced and economically developed than here. All the way to the car and all the way to the lights. Like the heavenly market,..., daughter Shi Yan goes to school in this city, and now she doesn't know how her studies are. I don't know if I have time, if I can find time, I must go to see her, the phone can't be called.

I am in my hometown, from the car accident to the present, I have not been to the day shift, and when I think of this, my heart is a little panicked and sour. Alas, I'll go back here as soon as I visit.

When I woke up, it was the next morning, I got up, changed my clothes, washed my face, rinsed my teeth, and then opened the door, and it happened that a girl with a smile came to inform: "Mr. Zhang, it's time for breakfast." ”

Then, she withdrew from the room with a smile, she was neither yin nor yang, not bewitching, like the warmth of spring, the coolness of summer, and her evaluation was not exaggerated.

Zhang Bo walked into the restaurant, just like yesterday, swiped the dining card to take a seat, and there was a set meal on the table. He sat down and began to eat slowly.

"Hey, classmate, what's your last name?" A middle-aged man at the next table greeted him and was friendly.

"Are you calling me?" Zhang Bo raised his head and looked at the other party. He is only in his thirties, and although his eyes are small, they are shining like fireflies.

"Yes, my name is Zhou Guang, I'm here to publish a book, and I can't be considered a third-rate writer, I want to increase my popularity and publish a book for people in my hometown." Zhou Guang was very happy, as if he had no worries.

"I, Zhang Bo, like you, what subject? Zhang Bo asked, he wanted to know about Lu Dao.

"Sorghum flowers, rustic, there are not many visitors, improve it." Zhou Guang said with a smile.

"I like vernacular literature, it is more relevant to life, and it is easy to write about feelings, but I must explore a new way of writing." Zhang Bo chatted while eating, and so did he.

"So, you're on that too?" Zhou Guang asked: "Fantasy, transcendence." Xianxia, not high H, science fiction, anime, Tanmei, etc. ”

"It depends on the background of the subject matter, what the angle, in short, there must be new thinking and genres. Write familiar, vulgar and elegant, heard and seen, and the material must be written. Zhang Bo said with a smile that he liked the friend in front of him: "Actually, as long as the realm is good, that faction will become a great god." ”

"Your masterpiece, what's the name?" Zhou Guang inquired.

"The Ballad of the Reclining Buddha." Zhang Bo said.

"Oh, your book is on fire, yes, you can become a god after you send it, dozens of websites are posting, and the click-through rate is very high, excluding those pirated and shameless." Zhou Guang said excitedly, it seemed to be his book.

"Don't be so left, even if you write it, it's for people to see, of course, it's okay to have fame and fortune, that is, you can't just be fame and fortune." Zhang Bo said with a friendly attitude.

"They all go to piracy, starve writers, who still writes books, go there to find books to read, I am a reader, readers are not for me, who is still interested in writing books." Zhou Guang said while eating.

"Students, let's look at the horizon, as long as you write well, write with blood and tears, and write in a realistic art form, and think less about other issues." Zhang Fu Zhilu said that this is the grievance of some writers.

Cao Xueqin only wrote one masterpiece in his life, and there are forty-four unfinished, he died in a deserted temple, and he was not famous and profitable at that time, didn't he think of these, writing a book is a kind of dedication. We are standing on the mountain, on the earth, as long as we have deep feelings, we are still worried that readers will not be able to read. When we finish writing, we can go and see its social value. Zhang Bo said again.

"Convincing you, no wonder your book network is quite popular. Learn from you, ask for a big pointer on the work, and give a comment. Zhou Guang said. He ate quickly, put down his chopsticks and sat down at Zhang Bo's side.

"Okay, this is definitely helpful, but I am only a shallow learner," Zhang Bo said humorously.

"How many books are out? Long-formed? Zhou Guang shook his head and asked.

"I hope that my debut novel will be recognized by readers." Zhang Bo said. He put down his chopsticks and finished eating.

"What type." Zhou Guang asked.

"There is no type." Zhang Bo said.

"Then write a few more articles and be a top god." Zhou Guang said wishfully.

"There are stories that have been sleeping for thousands of years, and there are innocent human natures, conscience, backwardness, kinship, jealousy, like a glass of wine, sweet, beautiful, the more you drink, the more you taste." Zhang Bo said, very proud.

"I understand, how old is my classmate? Zhou Guang asked.

"Guess what! Zhang Bo came with a bit of humor.

"Twenty-eight, thirty-eight, no more than forty." Zhou Guang really guessed.

"Looks are not equal to the year, as long as there is thought, it is like there is goods in the store, there is rice in the tank, and it doesn't matter if he is twenty, thirty, forty or fifty." Zhang Bo said in a word.

"Incisive," Xiao Yuji stood behind them for a long time, but he didn't alert them, listening to the high opinions of these two, especially Zhang Bo.

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

PS: Write a book, don't write according to someone else's path, success or failure doesn't matter, because there are later generations, there are no immortal writers, only immortal works.