After hanging up the phone from Ye Lan, Wang Zixu was still thinking, autograph session?

Among all the writer's actions, book signings are one of the things he dislikes most. Not because he doesn't want to reveal his identity as a little prince, but because a writer came to his school to hold a book signing in high school. Leave it to him

Made an indelible impression.

The writer's name is Xie Dongyu, and he is an author of children's books. His story style is more traditional and conservative, with animals as the protagonists, some fables, and highly readable. He is more popular with teachers and parents than readers.

In fact, students prefer to read several other children's book authors who have better market performance. Some of the descriptions of those authors are too bold, and in the eyes of parents, they have more entertainment content and insufficient educational significance. After all, Xie Dongyu's works are better than those

The old-fashioned stuff is so much better, so in the world of children's books, he, a middle-of-the-road choice, has become the most famous one.

At that time, Wang Zixu was in his first year of high school, and a book signing was held in the playground. It was more about selling books than a book signing. As long as the students did not sit in the classroom, they were willing to bask in the sun on the playground.

He followed his classmates to the playground, laughing and joking. At that time, Xie Dongyu was giving a speech, but Wang Zixu's attention gradually shifted to the girl next to him.

"The vocal cords should be the appendix of a writer. If you have this time to chatter and defraud students of their money, why not go home and polish your writing more and stop plagiarism..."

Wang Zixu looked over with great interest and saw that the girl had a ponytail and put her palms on her forehead to make a awning. Her eyelashes were as fine as curtains. Her arms and slender neck had skin as white as snow. In the sunlight,

The bottom is particularly dazzling.

He thought to himself, no wonder she looked so unhappy. With such fair skin, even he would feel a pity if she got tanned.

"Hey, hey." Wang Zixu said to the girl, "You said he plagiarized?"

The girl turned around and looked at him with a sharp look: "What's wrong? He is your idol, do you want to defend your idol? What's wrong with him plagiarism?"

Wang Zixu said: "No, I am just more interested in his plagiarism. Who did he plagiarize?"

"The Golden Rat" by Ditloff Lacey. His "Smart Rat" almost copied the structure of that book." The girl said.

Wang Zixu said: "I've never heard of it at all."

"Haha." The girl laughed twice, then turned away and stopped talking to him, probably because she thought he was too ignorant.

Wang Zixu was not at peace inside. He felt that this girl was a bit aloof and a bit aggressive.

After a while, he heard the girl whisper: "Many writers of the older generation, relying on their relatively large reading volume and the relatively closed domestic market, plagiarize works that have become famous in mature markets in foreign countries.

I can make a lot of money in China, but I just can't stand this kind of behavior."

She seemed to be talking to herself or to Wang Zixu. He was not sure. Although he decided that this girl was very cold and planned to be indifferent to her and let her have a taste of rejection, he still couldn't help it in the end.

, turned around and said: "You look like you have read a lot, you can also copy it."

The girl rolled her eyes at him: "Who do you think I am?"

The prince kept silent. I'm sorry, I don't know you.

After a while, Wang Zixu said: "I think we should respect the older writers a little more. It's not easy for them to come all the way to give us a speech."

The girl sneered: "What speech? You thought it was for charity? He came here to sell books!"

She added: "Look, how many students are there on the playground? There are 5,000 people, right? Did you see the truck next to the playground? Later he will move his old books up to sell them, one for 39,

How much do you think you can sell it for?"

Wang Zixu asked: "How do you know so clearly?"

"Isn't this an unspoken rule in the industry?"

Wang Zixu calculated in his mind that if every student had a copy, that would be an income of close to 200,000 yuan. He secretly exclaimed. At his age, 200,000 yuan was a huge sum of money for him.

The girl said: "If you want us to go up and buy books later, just say you don't have any money."

Wang Zixu said: "What about you?"

"I didn't bring any money either."

Wang Zixu was silent for a while and said, "Ditrov Lacey, right? I'll go and see it another day."

The girl raised her face and glanced at him with the lower part of her eyes, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Later, Wang Zixu found out her intentions. It turned out that she didn't just fall in love with him and wanted to help him save money. She encouraged Wang Zixu not to buy books mainly because she was afraid that she would be scolded by the teacher if she was the only one who didn't buy them.

Sure enough, they were the only ones in the class who didn't buy any books. The teacher's criticism was all focused on Wang Zixu, but she was unharmed.

Of course, she honestly admitted this afterwards, and Wang Zixu also forgave her. However, Wang Zixu still preferred to believe that she encouraged him not to buy the book because she fell in love with him at first sight.

That was the first time Wang Zixu talked to Chen Qingluo.

…

He wiped his face, jumped out of bed, fumbled for his slippers on the ground, opened the music software on his phone, played a random song, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"The Fold" by American rock band Ivan & Alyosha was streaming from the phone. Wang Zixu beat the music with his feet until his mouth was filled with toothpaste foam.

The name of this band, translated into Chinese, is "Ivan and Alyosha", which undoubtedly comes from "The Brothers Karamazov". The milk of that Russian writer is still suckling the world, whether it is Americans far away across the ocean, or

The prince in this room is empty.

Americans sing "Don't You Fold" on their mobile phones. It's slang, and it probably means "Don't abandon, don't give up, don't shrink back." Fold means folding. So a more down-to-earth translation should be

:You have to stand up.

"You have to stand up."

The blond American suddenly turned into Marshal Ma with a Northeast accent. The localization work was completed perfectly. Wang Zixu laughed when he thought about this, feeling proud of his amazing talent.

If his English were better, he could write and translate at the same time, just like Haruki Murakami. Unfortunately, his foreign language skills are frustratingly poor. Chen Qingluo's English is very good, scoring 140 points in every exam

Hesitating about whether she should be the English class representative or the Chinese class representative, the two teachers almost fought.

After brushing his teeth, he stared at the calls from Ning Chunyan and Zuo Ziliang on his phone, hesitating about whom to call first.

In the end, he chose Zuo Ziliang. It was not because he had any special preference for bald heads, but because if he called Ning Chunyan first, he would feel guilty that he would value sex over friends.

"Hey, you just woke up now?"

Wang Zixu said: "My average sleep time this month is only 4 hours. I can't make up for it even if I sleep 24 hours a day."

The other person smiled: "That's right. Having said that, do you know about self, id and superego?"

"ah?"

Wang Zixu had just woken up and was about to go to the kitchen to crack an egg and spread out an egg pancake for himself. At this time, talking about self, id, and superego was beyond his expectation.

"Is it a concept of psychoanalysis? The id is the most primitive animal impulse of an individual, the superego is the pursuit of lofty morals and ideal beliefs, and the self is the self-awareness formed between the two."

Zuo Ziliang sighed: "You have read so many books. You can explain it better than I thought."

Wang Zixu cracked open an egg and was a little flattered: "Thank you. But why do you ask?"

Zuo Ziliang said: "It's nothing, I just suddenly thought of this."

baffling.

Zuo Ziliang added: "You should find a woman to hug."

Wang Zixu said: "Hey, what are you talking about? It's even more confusing. My wife just ran away from home yesterday, and you tell me such a thing, what are you thinking? I'm not the kind of person who just hugs a woman.

A person who can forget all his worries."

"I know, your superego is extremely powerful. But that's not what I meant."

"What does that mean?"

On the other end of the phone, Zuo Ziliang seemed to be troubled by some unspeakable things. It took him a long time to say: "I have read your "Wild Weeds"."

Wang Zixu felt that now the topic was back on track: "Then let's start with "Wild Weeds", don't be so out of touch, and talk about something I can understand."

"I don't know if you have noticed it yourself," Zuo Ziliang said, "In your story, your protagonist has never hugged his wife. When faced with the pressure in marriage, he always digests it alone."

Speaking of novels, Wang Zixu sounded a little softer: "Novel is just an artistic cross-section of life. It may not reflect all the truth of life, nor may it reflect all the truth of everyone."

Zuo Ziliang said: "Yes, but it can reflect your subconscious mind to a certain extent."

Wang Zixu stopped talking.

Zuo Ziliang said: "I am a real married person. Although the kind of marriage you describe does make people feel airtight and breathless, and in some aspects it is so real that it makes people shudder, but in marriage,

There are also occasional bright spots. For example, some problems can be solved with a hug."

The prince replied absently: "Yes, a warm harbor."

"So, try to hug." Zuo Ziliang said, "You are the best speech therapist I have ever seen. You understand loneliness more deeply than anyone else, so you can heal many people. But you also

You need to heal your own hidden wounds, so you must pay attention to this aspect."

Wang Zixu fell into silence. He always felt that Zuo Zi had good intentions, but he did not say anything clearly. He seemed to be hiding something.

Rather than saying it was a hidden injury, he was suggesting that there was a blind spot in Wang Zixu's vision, a blind spot that he himself could not discover. That blind spot was hidden under the dazzling light of the fifty Nobel Prizes for Literature.

Zuo Ziliang added: "By the way, there is something else to say. The editor from the publishing house is looking for you."

"Ye Lan told me about this. She said, what kind of autograph session are you going to hold?"

Zuo Ziliang said: "She doesn't know how to talk nonsense."

Wang Zixu breathed a sigh of relief: "Let me tell you, how could I go to Lao Shizi's autograph signing?"

"The important point is not about the autograph session. The important point is that you are being roasted on the fire. It is difficult for you to go, and it is also difficult for you not to go. In short, this is what a writer should bear."

Wang Zixu looked confused: "What kind of writer am I? What are you talking about?"
To be continued...