He Zhixing and Zhao Shu, the two bigwigs of Qingbei and Yangyin, were originally very harmonious.

But at this moment, there is a faint contradiction.

Zhao Shu looked at He Zhixing, and there was anger in his eyes: "Old He, you are a little unscrupulous." How can he, Wang Mo, understand literature? ”

He Zhixing: "You don't believe me? ”

Zhao Shu: "Do you think I believe it or not?" ”

He Zhixing: "I feel like I believe it. ”

Zhao Shu: "I'm sorry, you think it's wrong. ”

At this moment, Zhao Shu looked at He's trip and was not pleasing to the eye.

Wang Mo is such a good seedling, if you don't let him go to CCTV for further study and continue to develop his potential, this is a waste of his talent and talent.

Because Zhao Shu thinks that if the training is good, Wang Mo will most likely be able to become an international pianist. Even one day in the future, it is not impossible to write a good piano piece that can be recognized internationally and become the first international pianist in China.

What an honor!

Zhao Shu was excited when he thought about it.

But He Zhixing stopped Wang Mo from going to Yangyin, and said that Wang Mo knew literature, isn't this nonsense?

He Zhixing snorted coldly and wanted to say something.

But in the end, he held back, the old man Zhao Shu already knew too much, and he couldn't reveal the secret anymore.

Wang Mo knows about literature, and only a few people such as him and Tang Xuanyuan know about it.

The more people who know, the less good it is.

However, Zhao Shu kept chattering in his ear, and He Zhixing had no choice but to say: "It's not that I don't tell you, there is a secret involved in this." I ask you, can you keep the secret? ”

Zhao Shu raised his head: "Of course you can!" ”

He Zhixing smiled mysteriously: "I can too." ”

Zhao Shu: "......"

He took a deep breath, resisted the urge to beat He Zhixing into a pig's head, and then looked at Wang Mo: "Xiao Wang, let me ask you, do you understand literature?" ”

Wang Mo smiled innocently: "I understand a little." ”

Zhao Shu laughed: "Lao He, did you hear?" Xiao Wang said that he only understood a little. You don't even know what it means? ”

He Zhixing sneered: "Xiao Wang, then I also ask you, do you know the piano?" ”

Wang Mo smiled shyly: "I understand a little." ”

Zhao Shu: "......"

He felt that there was a flood of power surging in his body, and he wanted to crush the old and young in front of him.

Who are these people?

He Zhixing patted Zhao Shu's shoulder and said with a smile: "Lao Zhao, I said just now, Xiao Wang has a bit of a secret, and it won't do you any good if you know too much." But I'm really not lying, Xiao Wang does have an extraordinary talent in literature. Well, don't go to any music event and come with me to the literary exchange. I asked Xiao Wang to show his hands a little, what do you think? ”

Zhao Shu blinked and nodded in approval.

In this literary exchange meeting held by students from Qingbei, each participant was a literary leader from several top universities. If Wang Mo can overwhelm everyone at such exchange meetings, it can indeed be called a profound attainment in literature.

But Wang Mo was stunned when he heard it: "Old He, this can't work......"

Eldest brother!

Is it okay for my literary talent to be limited to the "100 Modern Poems" given by the system?

Who knows what topics those students will discuss at the next literary exchange meeting?

European and American literature?

Classical literature?

Modernism?

Architecture?

Romantic?

If you want to rush forward, the probability of losing face is as high as 99%.

He Zhixing thought that Wang Mo was disdainful of making a move, and said with a smile: "Just play with the children." ”

Wang Mo wanted to cry speechlessly, he was a child himself.

He Zhixing continued: "Originally, I just wanted you to feel the atmosphere of Qingbei today, but in order to convince Lao Zhao, you should reveal something a little." If you are worried about identity, you can be anonymous later, anyway, this kind of literary exchange meeting, many times it is anonymous, and there is no need to worry about looking down on each other because of the gap in literary level. ”

"That'...... All right. ”

Wang Mo could only nod.

At the same time, I secretly said in my heart: I still have a silver treasure chest and a bronze treasure chest, which is useless.

Wait, if you really encounter an uncontrollable situation, it's a big deal to open a treasure chest.

Thinking of this, he had confidence in his heart.

……

In today's Qingbei event, there was a piano god.

In today's information age, the news of Wang Mo playing the piano quickly spread.

It's just that there is almost no clear video outflow, and there are only a few videos where no one can be seen and only the piano can be heard.

Because when Wang Mo was playing the piano, few people entered the classroom.

Later, when everyone entered the classroom, everyone was first shocked by Wang Mo's performance and forgot to shoot; The second is that he was afraid of He Zhixing and Zhao Shu's majesty, and did not dare to shoot.

But just these few sound-only videos still shocked countless students who knew music.

"It's really good."

"This level is awesome."

"I heard that the person who plays the piano is a handsome man, and he is still very young, which simply satisfies all my fantasies about the prince of piano."

"Is there really a piano prince in this world?"

"I urgently ask for all the information of the Piano Prince, thank you!"

“……”

At this moment, in the lecture hall of the literary exchange meeting.

Many of the students who participated were a little depressed.

It's obviously a literary exchange meeting, but who would have thought that it would be robbed of all the heat by a strange piano prince?

Even now, there are many people on campus who come to see the true face of the "Piano Prince".

overshadowed the originally fiery "Literary Exchange Conference".

Never mind.

The exchange meeting still has to be held.

However, more than ten minutes after the start of the activity, suddenly the classroom became noisy, and everyone's eyes were looking at the door.

Outside the door.

He Zhixing, Zhao Shu, and Wang Mo returned.

But this time, almost every eye was focused on Wang Mo.

"It's him."

"He's back!"

"The Piano Prince."

"Oh my God, it's so handsome."

He Zhixing coughed lightly, and the originally noisy classroom became silent again.

At this time, He Zhixing smiled and said, "You continue to carry out the activities, and we will listen here." Especially in front of Professor Zhao, don't lose face in studying literature. ”

Hearing this, the students had to be serious.

Even Wang Mo sat upright and listened carefully......

After listening to it for a while, Wang Mo nodded secretly, it was worthy of being an activity of a top university, and every student's speech revealed confidence, high spirits, rich and colorful content, and thought-provoking.

The theme of the conference was: Our Generation.

When literature involves a certain generation, things get complicated.

Some people say: Our generation is enjoying happiness, so many people choose to lie down.

Some people say: Our generation is in the midst of a great change in the times, and it is a good opportunity to fight.

Some people say: The thinking of our generation is degenerate and degenerate, and the situation is serious.

Some people say: Our generation has the courage to say no to tradition, and it is a vigorous generation.

Say anything.

Each has its own reason.

Since it is a literary exchange meeting, the host finally said: "The beauty of literature is that we can use words to record our thoughts, let ourselves read, let others observe, and let future generations understand." What kind of responsibilities and burdens does our generation bear? Is it hope? Is it despair? Is it depravity or prosperity? Is it forward or backward? No matter what you want to express or what emotion you want to express, you can use words to show it.

Today, we're showing the way it is: poetry.

Students who participated in the exchange meeting can use a short poem to record their experiences.

Ancient poems, yes.

Modern poetry, too.

Of course, as is customary, we still use the anonymous method, write our own verses on the slips of paper, and put all the notes in a box. Then it's up to me to recite everyone's work.

The top three with the highest number of votes are chosen, and the three can take the stage themselves to reveal their identities. ”

There is no first.

Wu Wu is the second.

This anonymous communication, in which the top three are selected anonymously, has always been popular.

What you wrote this time didn't play well, and no one will laugh at it. In this way, people will not have a psychological burden.

But if what you write this time gets a high vote, you can enjoy the applause and popularity of the crowd.

Hearing the rules, Wang Mo nodded secretly.

Of course, especially when he heard that the way of this exchange was "poetry", his heart skipped a beat.

Seemingly.

There is no need to open treasure chests.

Soon, a female classmate gave everyone a piece of paper and a pen - except for He Zhixing and Zhao Shu.

After sending out the note.

The host said loudly: "Everyone can start to create freely, and the time is limited to 20 minutes. ”

In the lecture hall.

There were more than 30 students who participated in the literary exchange meeting, and at this moment, everyone lowered their heads and took pens in contemplation.

In order not to put pressure on Wang Mo, He Zhixing and Zhao Shu deliberately sat several positions far away.

At this moment, Wang Mo was in trouble.

He rubbed his heartlessness, his eyes full of confusion.

Student.

Our generation.

Emotions, futures, ideals.

Together, these key words flashed into his mind with a poem almost instantly.

But he was hesitating: "Do you really want to come up with this poem?" ”

Without him, the influence of this poem is too great, and Wang Mo feels that taking it out at a literary exchange meeting is a bit like an anti-aircraft gun to fight mosquitoes.

But apart from this poem, I can't think of any better poem.

"I don't want to, let's do it!"

It was tangled for a few minutes.

Wang Mo no longer hesitated, spread out the paper, and wrote a few words on it.

Get!

Not far away, although He Zhizhang and Zhao Shu sat at a distance, their attention was always on Wang Mo.

Especially Zhao Shu, after seeing Wang Mo write, he finally couldn't help his curiosity, stretched his neck to look, and muttered in his heart: "I still don't believe it, does Xiao Wang really understand literature?" ”

In the muttering, his gaze just swept to the words written by Wang Mo.

At that moment, Zhao Shu's eyes turned into copper bells.

(End of chapter)