Facts have proved that even if you are reborn, you will not be able to accomplish whatever you want.
For example, Zhang Yixing wanted to submit an article, but he couldn't find a computer even though he knew it was most convenient to use a computer.
He remembers that the first time he learned about computers was after he entered the fourth grade of elementary school. At that time, the school offered microcomputer classes, and he had to wear shoe covers every time he went to class. The computer was not connected to the Internet, so he had to learn the five-stroke font.
Later, when I entered junior high school, I heard about Internet cafes for the first time.
Therefore, Zhang Yixing could only choose to submit his manuscript by letter.
Zhang Yixing remembers that there used to be reading corners in the classrooms of grades one, two and three.
The so-called book corner is to put a desk in a corner of the classroom and place some reading materials for primary school students such as "Hong Lei", "Contemporary Primary School Students" and "Primary School Students' Composition".
These publications generally have notices calling for submissions, ranging from a few sentences that are similar to what is in the heart to small essays of a few hundred words.
Zhang Yixing decided to start his writing journey from these call for papers.
It is unrealistic to write articles for junior high and high schools in kindergarten, but when writing articles for first or second grade, a clever person can cover up the past.
Zhang Yixing has been smart since he was a child.
Zhang Yixing's mother, Li Hongyu, was literate and could even read and write letters. Compared with most of her fellow villagers who could only write their own names, she was considered a literate person.
Under the guidance of his mother, Zhang Yixing also began to learn literacy and arithmetic very early.
As soon as the bell rang, Zhang and his party followed the teacher and rushed out of the classroom.
The second-grade classroom is located behind the Yuhong classroom, separated only by a large flower bed.
After class in Grade 1, Zhang Mingming grabbed a handful of glass balls from the hole in the table. Just as he was about to put it in his pocket, he heard someone calling him outside.
When I looked up, it turned out to be my neighbor Zhang Yixing.
Zhang Mingming walked to the door of the classroom and said, "Yixing, what's going on?"
Zhang Yixing stretched his neck and looked at the inner corner of the classroom. While looking at it, he said: "Obviously, your class's reading corner has "Hong Lei" and "Contemporary Primary School Students". Give me a few books to read."
"Ah, no, these books can only be read in the classroom and cannot be taken out." Zhang Mingming shook his head and refused.
Zhang Yixing whispered, "I'll bring it back to you in the next class!"
Zhang Mingming was very determined, "That won't work either."
Zhang Yixing scratched his head and said, "When you get home from school, I'll give you some big glass balls."
"It's a deal!"
Zhang Mingming immediately ran to the reading corner, grabbed two magazines and ran back.
He handed the magazine to Zhang Yixing and said, "Bring it back quickly after school. The study committee will count it."
"I know, I know!"
Zhang and his party took two magazines and looked at them, one was "Hong Lei" and the other was "Sunflower".
"Let's go quickly, don't be discovered!"
Zhang Mingming pushed Zhang and his party away from the classroom door, and he did not forget to shout to some classmates beside the flower bed, "Zhang Heng, Zhao Qi, you two wait for me and let's play together."
Zhang and his party returned to their seats in the classroom, opened "Sunflower" and started browsing quickly.
The content is very rich, including primary school students' compositions, fairy tales, poems, comic strips and other columns. There is also a call for submissions on the last page, which is exactly what I need.
"Zhang Yixing, what are you looking at?"
Zhao Jinmai poked his little head and asked curiously.
"Read a book!"
"let me see!"
"You can't understand!"
Zhao Jinmai glanced at his deskmate, reached for another magazine, took a look at it, and said disdainfully, "Isn't it "Hong Lei"? I have many of them at home!"
Zhang Yi Xing was stunned, and immediately turned around to greet me with a smile, "My deskmate, please give me a few books to read. Don't just take "Hong Lei", give me a copy of whatever you have."
"never!"
Zhao Jinmai's head shook like a rattle.
Alas, children are so difficult to take care of!
Zhang Yixing sighed and continued to look down at the "Sunflower" in his hand.
Seeing that his deskmate was silent, Zhao Jinmai turned to look at him and couldn't help but feel a little frustrated, "Zhang Yixing, why don't you ask me again?"
Zhang Yixing hummed, "I won't ask, I won't read."
Zhao Jinmai snorted angrily and pushed Zhang Yixing's elbow, "You have crossed the line, you are not allowed to cross the line!"
Zhang and his party drew back their arms.
Zhao Jinmai began to move the small bench to the side.
…
In the next few classes, Zhang Yixing basically stopped paying attention to the class except to keep vigilance to the teacher.
He glanced at the teacher from time to time, and then secretly wrote a manuscript in his homework book.
But no matter how careful I am, if I make a mistake too often, I will end up getting hit with a piece of chalk by the teacher.
Of course Zhang Yixing, who is just a piece of chalk and has a mature soul, doesn't care at all. He still goes his own way, but is more careful.
He was not anxious at all, but Zhao Jinmai, who was next to him, was always worried about him.
After Zhang Yixing received a chalk blow, Zhao Jinmai secretly touched Zhang Yixing with his arm as soon as he saw the teacher showing signs of turning his head this way.
Zhang and his party thought she was careless at first, but they woke up after repeated attempts.
So whenever Zhao Jinmai touched him, he would quickly stop writing and pretend to listen to the lecture.
With his deskmate as an accomplice, Zhang and his party became even more unscrupulous and even stopped looking at the teacher, since someone was watching for him anyway.
When school was over, Zhao Jinmai lay on the table tiredly, with beads of sweat on his forehead due to nervousness.
Zhang and his party apologized to Zhao Jinmai while cleaning up, "Thank you, deskmate!"
Zhao Jinmai curled his lips and gave him a proud look on the back of his head.
…
After returning the two publications to Zhang Mingming, Zhang and his party took his sister home.
The sun had just begun to set, and the treetops at the end of the field of vision were covered with red clouds.
Zhang and his sister happily held branches on the road and "toot-toot-toot", feeling that the future was bright.
After returning home, Zhang and his party quickly completed their homework.
They are all stroke exercises, which are really child's play for Zhang Yixing.
Zhang Xiuxiu looked like she was gnashing her teeth, as if she had encountered a strong enemy, and couldn't write a line for a long time.
Zhang Yixing even saw the horrific scene of two years later when he and his mother had to help his sister with her homework every day.
Alas, it is all sorrow!
My mother was busy cooking in the kitchen, burning a large pot on the earthen stove, and smoke was rising from the chimney.
Zhang Yixing was actually willing to help light the fire and pull the bellows, but his mother wouldn't let him do anything.
Since Zhang and his party burned down the kitchen a year ago, his mother has not allowed him to go near the kitchen.
Zhang and his party put away their homework, walked to the closet at home, and took out a few envelopes, red plaid letter paper, and a few one-cent stamps from the drawer inside.
Because my aunt went out of town and often corresponded with my mother, there was always a stockpile of these things at home.
Using slanted handwriting, I copied four short essays written in class, stuffed them into two envelopes, and found some paste to put stamps on them.
Before his mother finished cooking, Zhang and his party had already put the manuscript into their school bag.
The address was the school address, and he didn't want his family to know about it yet.
Then he ran under the big poplar tree and dug out a small box following his memory.
There are no treasures in the small box, just some colorful glass balls.
Zhang Yixing picked one up and looked at it, as if he was holding onto a distant childhood.
