"You're welcome, the poem is well written, not a word has been changed, and the editors of the literary club like this poem that expresses nostalgia."

When he sent it to her, he didn't have much hope, it was just a poem written casually in a flash of inspiration, and he didn't know whether it was good or bad, and he didn't want to send it to others so that others could point fingers at his poems. When he writes poetry, he never sticks to form, he only likes to pour out his heart in plain language. He dreamed of the day when his poems would become pencil and lie in newspapers and magazines, but he did not deliberately seek such an outcome, he was a little unconcerned and did not believe that his poetry could be recognized by others. And now, his dream has come true.

"It's a prize!"

"I heard Fang Feiyun say, your dream is to become a writer?"

Tang Long hesitated for a moment, and moved the gaze cast on Bai Sumei's face to the center of Wenshan Lake, where the blue sky, white clouds, and turquoise trees were torn to pieces by the claws of the autumn wind.

He didn't know whether to tell Bai Sumei the real answer, the word writer is very reminiscent of the image of a poor scholar, it is a profession that seems a little ridiculous to many people and has no future, and he is a little ashamed to say it when facing Bai Sumei. But Bai Sumei is the president of the literary club, although her dream in life is not necessarily to become a writer, but at least she will not hate writers! So he strengthened his inner thoughts, moved his gaze back, looked at Bai Sumei and said, "Yes, this is my original dream, and it has never changed. ”

"As long as you follow your heart and write, you will definitely become a great writer, come on!"

"Thanks, I hope so......"

"Well, especially this one, I like it very much." Bai Sumei approached him, pressed her face to him, and used her slender index finger to draw the poem "Under the big poplar with golden tears", saying, "The colors are brilliant, the imagery is vivid, and it exudes a touch of sadness." ”

"Really? If you like it......" Tang Long said.

He plucked up his courage, raised his head, and gazed at her as carefully as if he were admiring a work of art, while she was still reading the poem with her head down. She was right in front of his eyes, her long hair, her eyebrows, her eyes, her high nose, her rosy lips, her towering breasts, unfolding before him like a beautiful dream, and the distance between her and him was so close that the few strands of hair hanging from her head shook his face and tickled at his every nerve.

From her there is a smell of osmanthus perfume, this is the smell of hometown, this is the smell of mother, this is the smell of Lin Jiali. In the osmanthus town, which is full of osmanthus and rich in osmanthus perfume, almost every woman, whether it is a housewife or a young girl, will spray this osmanthus perfume on her body. However, if you carefully distinguish the taste, you will find that everyone's body odor is different, the same osmanthus perfume, sprinkled on everyone's body, and the body odor is mixed and blended, and then the osmanthus perfume smell will undergo subtle changes. If you are not a perfumer, or someone like Tang Long, who has grown up smelling the scent of osmanthus and osmanthus perfume, it is difficult to distinguish this subtle change in perfume.

However, what makes people feel strange is that whether it is their mother, Lin Jiali or Bai Sumei, the perfume smell of osmanthus emanating from them seems to be exactly the same, all in the rich fragrance of osmanthus, with a faint sweet fragrance like ripe apricots, this smell perfectly blends these three completely different images together, making him confused and confused, as if he is in another world.

"That's funny, are you guys procrastinating?" An unfamiliar voice came from behind him.

The voice slowly moved through the air like a dying train, mixed with mockery, puzzlement, and anger, and Tang Long and Bai Sumei turned to see a tall boy with makeup on his face, a black T-shirt, narrow-legged cow pants, and black high-top leather boots standing behind them. He put his hands in his trouser pockets, his head slightly bowed, his eyes at a forty-five degree angle, his sharp gaze staring at them from the bottom up, and his left earlobe sparkled with two diamond studs. He was followed by three tall boys.

When Bai Sumei saw him, her face changed color and flushed.

"You think too much, this is a student from the Chinese Department, and we are discussing the poems he wrote in the latest issue of the Yinhua Literature Society." Bai Sumei closed the magazine "Silver Birch".

"Blame me for my bad eyes, I'm blind." He walked up to them and said.

"My name is Dongfang Zhou, Bai Sumei's boyfriend." He stretched out his palm to Tang Long.

"My name is Tang Long." Tang Long shook his hand gently.

"Oh, I have an impression of you, I've seen you a few times in the OCT Dark Night Bar, which is owned by our family." Dongfang Zhou said.

Tang Long was silent, and the nerves in his whole body tightened like bowstrings. The Dark Night Bar was one of Fort Fort Forde's customers, and he often went there to deliver beers.

"At that time, you were carrying beer to the bar, and it was an honor to meet the only wine delivery worker in such a romantic place as Wenshan Lake." Dongfang Zhou said as he looked at the three boys.

They laughed exaggeratedly.

"Dongfang Zhou, what are you talking about?" Bai Sumei raised her voice and asked a little angrily.

"Didn't say anything, I just don't understand how you can talk to a wine delivery man from the countryside like that?"

Tang Long didn't know how to respond to Dongfang Zhou, he lowered his head and felt his face burn. He was born in a poor and remote village and town, this is a fact that he can never change, since he left Guihua Town Middle School and was admitted to the first high school in Xianning City - Hunanan High School, he closed his heart, ashamed to mention his hometown and birth in front of his classmates, and because of his birth, he has never been able to integrate into his classmates, and has been regarded by his classmates in those cities as an introverted, never social, and hard-working nerd.

"Shenzhen is an inclusive city of immigrants, please take back your sense of superiority of the aborigines of Shenzhen, and throw aside the paranoid and narrow regional concept." Bai Sumei looked directly at Dongfang Zhou and said angrily.

"Am I disturbing your talk about poetry by protecting him so much?"

"What do you say?"

"Can you show me the poems he wrote?"

"Of course." Bai Sumei handed him the poem and said.

Bai Sumei opened the table of contents of "Silver Birch", found the poem written by Tang Long, and then turned out the poem according to the page number, and then handed it to Dongfang Zhou.

Tang Long was a little nervous, he didn't know what Dongfang Zhou would say about his poetry. He wanted to leave this place of right and wrong as soon as possible, but he was unwilling to end the wonderful time strolling by the lake with Bai Sumei, and he thought that it was not an unpleasant thing for the two to discuss literature and poetry, and leaving as soon as he saw Dongfang Zhou appear, it would make him misunderstand the relationship between him and Bai Sumei.

"Tsk, good poem, awesomely written." Dongfang Zhou exclaimed.

"It's over." Tang Long said.

Hearing only a snort, Dongfang Zhou tore off the poem "Autumn Wind" written by Tang Long, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it on the grass on the side of the road.

Tang Long was surprised by Dongfang Zhou's move, and Bai Sumei was so angry that she went crazy. When Dongfang Zhou kicked the crumpled poem into a paper ball to the three boys who had been standing behind them who came with him, Bai Sumei couldn't hold back any longer, she snatched the magazine from Dongfang Zhou's hand and slammed it on Dongfang Zhou's head.

"It's so comfortable." Dongfang Zhou looked at Bai Sumei, shrugged his shoulders and said.

"Dongfang Zhou, you are sometimes very disappointing." Bai Sumei shook her head and said.

"It's a good poem, but what's the use?" Dongfang Zhou shook his head and said to himself. "No matter how well you write, isn't it still a wine delivery worker from the countryside?"

After one of his three classmates kicked the paper ball back, he walked up and flattened it with one foot, kneading it vigorously on his toes as if he were kneading dough.

"What are you talking about? Can you be normal? Bai Sumei glared at him and said.

"What am I talking about? I've figured out what he's all about. Eight years ago, his father was driving to deliver beer to a dark night bar, and eight years later, his son followed his father's business and drove his father's broken truck to continue delivering beer, how could you soak with such a person? Just because he can write a few bad poems? Looks like I'm going to have to learn how to write poetry from this great poet. ”

"Dongfang Zhou, you listen to me, it doesn't matter to me where he comes from, his father and what he does. He and I are friends and literary friends, and we exchange literature together, and it is not as complicated as you say, don't talk nonsense. ”

"Really? Just a literary friend? You don't take everyone for fools. ”

"You're the one who made yourself a fool."

"I'm stupid, I'm mentally retarded, look at this stupid goose, I'm at least much better than him."

Dongfang Zhou pointed at his head, Tang Long felt that he couldn't be silent anymore, he took a deep breath, steadied his trembling legs, looked at Dongfang Zhou and said, "Everyone is equal, you can't insult my personality." ”

"No one in this world told me what I couldn't do but my dad. You may think that your personality is as noble as poetry, but in my eyes, it is as humble as this piece of waste paper. Tang Long said.

He began to rub Tang Long's poem curled up in a paper ball with the tip of his right foot again, and soon the paper ball turned into an oval-shaped flat thin piece of paper like a biscuit.

Although Tang Long consciously tried to control his legs, his legs were still shaking, no, not only his legs, but his lips, his hands, and even his heart were trembling. He knew that this kind of nervous and frightened embarrassment could not escape Dongfang Zhou's eyes, but he couldn't suppress it at all, and the more consciously he tried to suppress it, the more nervous he became.

"I never considered my personality noble, as ...... Just as I never considered your personality to be lowly. ”

"Bitch, what are you talking about? Do you dare to sarcastically mock me for being lowly with rhetoric? Dongfang Zhou slammed in front of him, poked his forehead with his fingers, and glared into his eyes, "Believe it or not, I beat you up?" ”

"That's not what I meant." Tang Long looked at him.

"Enough, Dongfang Zhou, you took the wrong medicine today, hurry back!" Bai Sumei shouted angrily.

"Shut up for me." Dongfang Zhou yelled back at Bai Sumei, then turned his head and stared at Tang Long, taking a step forward, "Then what do you mean?" What use can you do but play with your pen, play with your mouth, and deliver beer, waste wood? ”

The word waste wood shot into his heart like a bullet, and he felt a pain coming from the depths of his heart, and the word brought him to the shore of Wuyou Lake in Zhengdao Mountain, to that desperate dusk, to Lin Jiali's heart-rending cry. He wanted to punch Dongfang Zhou in the mouth, punish him with his fists, and make him close his mouth that kept taunting and torturing him, but he didn't dare to punch him, anger aggravated his nervousness, but it didn't give him courage, he had a tall skeleton, empty developed muscles, and the skeleton and muscles wrapped in a fragile and timid heart.

He vividly remembers that before the age of nine, he was mischievous and often fought with the children of the village, but after the age of nine, his life was changed by the three demonic teenagers, who knocked down his body and the other self who lived in his body. From then on, he was like a lost soul, and in the face of provocations, ridicule, abuse and even beatings from others, the only thing he could do was to be silent and endure.