Shen Xingye was about to blow up when he heard this: "Huh? Teach me a lesson? It's condescending. Well, come, I'd like to see what you have to say! ”

Shi didn't give in: "It's very simple, in a word: yours, I don't know what to say, it's a mess." ”

"Huh? You, you, you are a fool! Why doesn't my art know what to say, why is it a mess? The kind of stuff you write about is a mess! Shen Xingye rolled the poems and books, and was furious: "Look at you like this, grandstanding, do you have a little depth?" Is there a bit of romanticism in literature and art? You thing, just see it, forget it in the blink of an eye, garbage, literary garbage! ”

When someone Shi heard this, he generously recognized it: "I inherit it, these things I wrote casually really don't have any romantic feelings, in fact, I can't even look down on myself." But what about you, you're awesome? I've forgotten this after seeing it, it's rubbish. You make people not even want to look at it, it's not as good as garbage. ”

"You, you, you!" Shen Xingye stretched out his fingers and almost didn't pull it: "That's someone else's aesthetic ......"

"Pull it down, it's not an aesthetic problem, it's just that the level is not enough." Shi Tiexin's soul asked: "If you think that your own is art and a guideline, then let me ask you, can your works make people forget themselves?" ”

"Is it memorable?"

"Can people gain something intellectually and indulge emotionally?"

"Do you remember when you were intoxicated with literature, the things that made you cherish them, did you keep your hands on them, did you stay awake all night, did you empathize, did you remember them, and have influenced you until now?"

"And what you wrote, can you keep others up at night?"

Shen Xingye's mouth opened and closed, closed and opened, his eyes were round and stunned, and he didn't know what to say.

If it was a simple quarrel, he could pull the fight and quarrel fiercely, and spray it for an hour without repeating it, after all, literati have the traditional virtue of tongue warfare in their bones.

But Shi Tiexin's question was not a simple quarrel, but a torture that went straight to the soul. These tortures made him suddenly understand that the big man in front of him was not talking in general, he did ask about the heart of literary feelings, and he didn't know how to refute it.

Holding back, holding back, his face was flushed, and in the end, Shen Xingye suddenly collapsed like a deflated ball, and sat on the bed with a dejected head: "Yes, you're right, I can't do it, what I write is really rubbish is not as good as ......"

The footsteps moved, and Shi Tiexin walked over.

Hmph, taunt me, proclaim your victory, whether it is knowledge or dreams, I have failed......

But at this time, only hearing a creaking sound, Shi Tiexin pulled a wooden chair, and then sat down upside down.

Shi Tiexin's voice sounded calm and generous, inclusive and full of forging ahead: "I have read everything you have written, including your poems, yours, your essays, your manuscripts, and even your 'driving book'. ”

Shen Xingye raised his head slightly, his eyes wandered, he didn't want to speak, but in the end he couldn't hold back: "Really? ”

"Really, I can recite two paragraphs for you right now. The rooster outside the window, with a lot of mouths on the edge of the oven. When you say this, you feel very hungry. Right? ”

Shen Xingye couldn't help but raise his head completely, and looked at Shi Tiexin in a daze.

His literary dreams have always been a joke, and no one has ever boasted about them. Even if he shamelessly posts poems every day and declares that he is a great writer, in fact, he himself knows that "Night" is not a great poet or a great writer in the hearts of his classmates, but just a strange talk and a vulgar joke on campus after dinner.

He really didn't expect that Shi Tiexin would be able to recite the original text, and at this moment, he was moved from the bottom of his heart.

Shi Tiexin continued: "Actually, what you write is not useless - well, poetry is indeed almost meaningless. But your prose is gorgeous, fluent, and has a wide range of references. ”

Shen Xingye scratched his head.

No, Lao Tie, don't praise me, no matter how much you praise me, I won't laugh out loud, ahaha, ahahaha!

Shi someone has paved the way enough, and the peak turns around: "But you have one of the most serious problems. ”

Shen Xingye asked nervously, "What's the problem?" ”

"Your words have no soul."

Shen Xingye was full of question marks: "Soul? ”

"Yes." Shi Tiexin thought of Fujiwara Jima, remembered the soul of that person's galloping, and said solemnly: "The soul is love." ”

Shen Xingye blushed instantly, and stammered: "Lao Tie, let's not talk so ......."

"You think I'm joking? I don't, I'm serious, the soul of literature comes from love. Shi Tiexin said solemnly: "Do you love your characters?" ”

"Can you respect their character and respect their ideas?"

"Do you feel like they're alive? Do you have free will? Have you ever had the feeling that what a character says is what he wants to say and what the character does is what he wants to do, rather than being completely under his control? ”

"Can you breathe with the characters and share the joys and sorrows, be happy with their happiness and be sad with their sadness?"

"Can you be happy with the growth of the character and lonely at the end of the stage?"

"Will you have to stop, not write, or break the file for some reason, crying bitterly, breaking your liver and intestines, and spilling tears on the end of your pen?"

"Will you simply worry about your work, rather than your grades, manuscript fees, income, and the number of readers?"

"When you don't write well, it's so annoying."

"When the writing is smooth, I am so happy that I forget to sleep and eat."

"You once said that your pen pal can draw Dusao and draw whatever you want. But what about you, why don't you know how to write? Since you have a brilliant pen, why don't you just write yellow and fleshy texts just to satisfy the sensory stimulation? ”

"I'm telling you, when you really love your words, you don't write."

"You will see your role as a parent, as a child, as a lover, as yourself."

"Because what you write is your most beautiful fantasy, pure emotion, and the most determined yearning."

"And that's love."

"If you don't write well, you can practice, if you don't have enough knowledge, you can save it, and it doesn't matter if you can't read words, those are all variable. Only this unrepentant love is the soul. And as long as you have this soul, as long as you don't let go-" Shi Tiexin raised his hand and pointed at Shen Xingye's heart: "Your dream can't be taken away by anyone." ”

"Because for you, everything in the text is alive, in the world you know."

Shen Xingye, stupid.

He never thought that he would hear such words from Shi Tiexin's mouth that directly touched his soul.

He couldn't help but ask, "You don't write again, how do you know?" ”

"Because all things in the world have the same end." Shi Tiexin smiled gently: "You love literature, and I love life." ”