After interviews in the morning, everyone was talking about the media reporters in Xiangjiang to the extent that they were talking about it.
They don't care about what happens in literary exchanges, that's a matter for the cultural world. They only care about your gossip and certain tendencies. No matter if it was your intention or not, if you accidentally say it and they hear it, then wait for the report to be reported.
The final result probably won't be too wonderful.
For example, a certain old comrade from the Writers' Association, who had experienced that era, almost revealed his words during the induced interview.
In the afternoon, it was the tea party arranged by the publishing house.
People in the Writers Association were confused. They had never heard of it and they had to have a tea party with the publishing house.
In the eyes of many older generation writers, literature is serious. In special times, they don’t even ask for royalties, and talking about business is too vulgar.
But Xiangjiang is different after all. This is a business society. Talking about money is not an insult to politeness. On the contrary, having no money is a shame.
If a writer lives in embarrassment in Hong Kong, no one will praise you for your high moral integrity. They will only think that your works are not good enough and no one will read them.
Regarding this arrangement, Feng Xianzhi and others were scratching their heads, but several publishing houses in Xiangjiang were sponsors of this exchange meeting, so they must give them face.
It is said to be a tea party, but it is actually an invitation to people from the publishing industry to meet with these local writers from the mainland and learn about what works can be published in Xiangjiang.
The result of the final discussion was that the publishers hoped that Feng Xianzhi could communicate with the mainland, compile and select the works of several writers, and introduce them to Xiangjiang for publishing.
This is a good thing, and Feng Xianzhi readily agreed.
After the tea party was over, everyone thought they could rest, but it turned out that the evening was not over yet. In the evening, there was a banquet for Mr. and Mrs. Jin Yong from "Ming Pao".
The dense itinerary and long activity time made the veteran comrades miserable.
Before getting in the car, everyone chatted about today's activities, and it could be said that they were full of complaints, especially because they were so tired and couldn't rest, and they had to attend Jin Yong's banquet.
These old comrades who are used to it do not care much about satisfying their appetites. What they think most about is exchanging writing experiences with their colleagues in Xiangjiang. It is best if some skills can help them.
An old comrade asked in confusion: "Who is Jin Yong of Ming Pao? Is he a reporter or a manager? He has such a big reputation?"
Feng Xianzhi touched his chin and recalled: "Jin Yong, that brother William Chen seems to have mentioned that he is a newspaper giant in Xiangjiang, the founder of "Ming Pao" and his boss."
"It turns out he's a big capitalist boss. Is it appropriate for us to meet him?"
"Yeah, it seems like we can't talk to the businessman, right?"
"Old Feng, I think you should refuse it for us."
Seeing this, Jiang Yulou pretended to cough, and at the same time attracted everyone's attention to him, "Mr. Feng, everyone, in fact, Jin Yong's identity is not just as simple as the founder of "Ming Pao", he also has another identity, A writer just like us.”
"What, a big capitalist or a writer?"
"What works did he write? Is it famous?"
Jin Yong's identity as a writer aroused everyone's interest and they started asking about it.
Jiang Yulou smiled, and after reminiscing, he introduced: "Jin Yong, original name..."
He first introduced Jin Yong's background and told the old comrades that this great writer had a close relationship with China. Sure enough, with such an introduction, everyone immediately put away their contempt.
Wang Meng was a well-informed person and immediately recalled the gossip about Qian's old relative, so he got in touch.
However, for such an awesome person who is also a writer, how come no one has heard of his works in the literary world?
Therefore, Wang Meng couldn't help but urge: "Yulou, don't whet the appetite of us old comrades, tell us what works this Mr. Jin has."
"Yeah, tell me quickly."
Everyone booed, and even Feng Xianzhi looked over.
Jiang Yulou said: "Mr. Jin mainly writes martial arts novels."
Martial arts novel?
Everyone looked at each other in shock. This was the first time they heard this term and they didn't understand its meaning.
Ever since, Jiang Yulou once again acted as the commentator, explaining to the old comrades what martial arts novels are.
After the introduction, everyone in the Writers Association had only one thought: engaging in feudal superstition, can this be considered a writer?
…
Xiangjiang is a brightly lit international metropolis. Even at night, the lights are still bright and the traffic is busy. The local residents have a rich nightlife that people from the mainland can never imagine.
The bus was moving slowly, and Tang Yuewen was flipping through a fashion magazine with her eyes very close.
She had only lived in Xiangjiang for two days, but her ideas had been greatly impacted. It turns out that life can be like this. It turns out that colors are not just black, white and gray.
Not to mention the development of the entertainment industry, which made her feel an unprecedented thrill. Here, she got to know the word soil again. Girls who are obviously not as good-looking as her can outshine her with their fashionable and glamorous clothes.
For this reason, she specially bought fashion magazines, and there was no need to express her thoughts clearly.
"Yulu, do you think it would be good if I wore this?"
"so gorgeous!"
"What about this one?"
"It can make you more beautiful."
Tang Yuewen closed the book and pouted, "Can you be more careful?"
"But I really think you look good in anything you wear." Jiang Yulou said softly.
Tang Yuewen was not happy, "Not all clothes can look good, so how can I look good on them all?"
"For the same piece of clothing, other women rely on their clothes to enhance their own beauty, but your beauty makes the clothes look good as well."
"Really?"
Tang Yuewen was very happy to be praised. She is more beautiful than beautiful clothes. Is there any better compliment than this?
"Of course, in my heart, no one can compare to you." Jiang Yulou's eyes were extremely serious, and Tang Yuewen was convinced by his words.
"Oh, but isn't there a saying that says Buddha relies on his golden clothes, and a man relies on his clothes?"
"Why do you suddenly care so much about your clothes?"
"This...because I heard someone call me Tumei..."
Jiang Yulou said patiently: "They are jealous. How about calling you vulgar instead of saying you are ugly? And your clothes are not vulgar, you are just more popular. When you have free time, I will take you to the mall. buying clothes."
"Hehe, I will be proud if you say that." Tang Yuewen raised her head, revealing her white neck, like a proud peacock.
Girls in this era are really too simple. If she had left the green tea she knew in her previous life, she would have acted like a spoiled child and asked you to buy her clothes and bags.
She is such a good girl, she doesn’t ask for much and is easy to support.
"Yue Wen."
"Um?"
"I love you!"
"I love you too!"
The two of them kissed each other on the bus, which aroused the eyebrows of old comrades.
