In the process of eating, Tian Xiaoxia barely moved her chopsticks, and chatted with Shen Long about her feelings about reading this book, until she found that Shen Long patronized to answer her questions, and had no time to eat, so she stopped with a smile.

After eating, the time was not early, Shen Long got up and sent Tian Xiaoxia home, the place where he lived was a bit out of the way, and now there were not so many street lights on the road, and with the return of educated youths to the city, there were gradually more idle people in society, whether it was for etiquette or safety considerations, he couldn't let Tian Xiaoxia go home alone.

A laborer and a female college student walked on the street, but neither of them felt uncomfortable, and they were immersed in each other's spiritual world until they reached the door of the family courtyard of the local party committee.

"When you're done, try to submit it! I'll go to the school library and help you find the addresses for those literary magazines. Tian Xiaoxia stopped and said, "You don't have to rush to show me, I know that writing is a very difficult thing, don't put too much pressure on yourself." ”

This is very different from just now, in the face of her desire to read and the pressure on the other party, Tian Xiaoxia decisively restrained her desire, in order to reduce the pressure on the other party, you know, Shaoping has to go to work during the day, this is heavy physical work, tired all day and writing in the dim light, how difficult it is.

"The story is already in my head, and all that's left is to change the words, and it won't be very hard." Shen Long told the truth that the work he did was just to rewrite Ke Lan's story, and adjust it into words that matched his identity and experience according to Sun Shaoping's memory.

Seeing Tian Xiaoxia enter the courtyard, Shen Long turned around and left; Tian Xiaoxia turned her head and watched his figure disappear around the corner of the street, her eyes lost in the night.

There were no people in the streets anymore, and the street lamps cast long shadows of light on the water-stained streets; On the opposite hill, it looks like a cone

The ninth-level ancient tower pointed straight to the night sky with chaotic clouds in the haze; There are no stars, no moon; The cold wind blew through the trees in the distant mountains

Lin, setting off a commotion; The majestic sound of the Huangyuan River and the sound of the Xiaonan River sound like a duet......

She couldn't help but sing—Sing us a song, happy wind!" Happy wind! You blow all over the mountains and seas of the world, and your song is heard all over the world. Sing, wind! To the steep peaks, to the mysterious ocean, to the whispers of birds, to the blue sky, to the brave and great people. Whoever can fight for victory, let him sing with us. Whoever wants to be happy can smile, whoever wants to do can succeed, and whoever wants to look can get ......

This is an episode from the Soviet film "Captain Grant's Children", she has not seen the film, but loves to sing this song; Walk through the empty yard to the house; She felt that her relationship with Shaoping would have a mysterious tinge, perhaps like a story depicted in a romance - the thought of that made her even more excited!

Back in his broken cave, Shen Long was not in a hurry to rest, sat at his desk and continued to rewrite..... and when he returned to work, whether it was moving bricks and stones, or eating and resting at noon, he carefully observed the surrounding workers, contractors and passers-by, and paid attention to their demeanor and speech.

Especially the touching stories they tell in simple language, he can only rewrite the unpublished classics now, but this does not mean that he is willing to do it all the time, the suffering life on the Loess Plateau has accumulated too many valuable materials worth writing, and one day, he will come up with his own works.

When I get home in the evening, I write down all the words and stories that are worth recording in a specially prepared notebook, and then start to revise them again.

After more than ten days, Shen Long finally finished writing this one, Tian Xiaoxia held the manuscript paper and read it as soon as she came, the expression on her face kept changing as the plot progressed, sometimes smiling and sometimes frowning, and when she saw the end of Cui Qiao's burial in the Yellow River, Xiaoxia even cried. is still muttering, Shaoping, you bastard, why did you write Cui Qiao to death.

This reminded Shen Long of Lu Yao crying and telling others about his experience of writing Xiaoxia to death, literature has this kind of charm, whether it is a writer or a reader, you can feel this charm; To be honest, when he should have written this paragraph, his heart was also a little pantothenic.

After going over and over again, Tian Xiaoxia took out a few densely written pieces of paper from her bag, "This is the address for the literary magazines I have collected during this time, including "Harvest", "October", which was established the year before last, "Contemporary" and "Flower City", which were just held last year, as well as "Yanhe" in our province, and "Huangyuan Literature" in our city....."

"Harvest" is an old-school literary magazine, founded by Ba Jin, which has long occupied the first place in Chinese pure literature, even in the era where Shen Long lived, each issue still sold more than 100,000 copies; Together with the following "October", "Contemporary" and "Flower City", these four magazines are known as the four major magazines of pure literature in China.

The province's "Yanhe" is a well-known banner of local literary magazines, and in this era, the sales volume can even exceed 100,000 a month, and almost all literature lovers in the province want to publish articles on it.

"Huangyuan Literature" is a magazine that was just established last year, Jia Bing also has a job in the magazine, Tian Xiaoxia also mentioned him, "I originally wanted to take the manuscript to Mr. Jia with you to see if it can be published in "Huangyuan Literature", but I think it's a pity to think about it, how can I try "Harvest" if it's so good." ”

"You're complimenting me too much, aren't you?" Shen Long smiled, "Actually, I also want to ask Teacher Jia to help take a look." He didn't want Jia Bing to help publish it in "Huangyuan Literature", but he wanted Jia Bing to help correct it, and by the way, he told himself about the way to submit the manuscript.

"It's not an exaggeration at all, Shaoping, your work is fully worthy of "Harvest"." Tian Xiaoxia said seriously.

The next day, they found Jia Bing with the manuscript, Jia Bing was a little surprised when he heard that Shen Long had written, but at the same time he was happy for him, so he immediately read it carefully, and praised it as much as Tian Xiaoxia after reading it.

Without saying a word, he left his work "Huangyuan Literature" and recommended Shen Long to submit articles to "Harvest" magazine, and enthusiastically provided him with envelopes and stamps, and told him the skills of submitting articles for a long time.

Shen Long carefully copied the manuscript, affixed a stamp, wrote the words "Harvest" magazine on the envelope, came to the mailbox with Tian Xiaoxia, and solemnly stuffed the envelope in.