"Not used to it?" Wang Zhong asked with a smile.
"A bit!" Actually, he was mainly shocked by Wang Zhong's age, otherwise why would he be like this.
"The conditions at home are simple, and we only have some coarse tea. Don't dislike it, Mr. Wen." Wang Chong smiled and poured a cup of tea for Wen Qinghua.
It was a coincidence that Wen Qinghua came because Wang Zhong was the only one at home.
"Mr. Wen has a good temperament, but I don't know where he can get a job?"
"I don't dare to claim high status, but I am currently working as a lecturer at Jinling Normal University. I had the honor to read Mr.'s works, and I was astonished, so I took the liberty to come and visit..."
"Okay, okay, you and I are both young people, so stop making those docile remarks!"
"I'm a guest here. It's my honor to be valued by Teacher Wen for these few humble works."
Wang Zhong's easygoingness surprised Wen Qinghua: "Sir, you are so humble!"
Wang Zhong said: "You are older than me, so it is not appropriate to call me sir!"
"There is no priority in learning, and those who have mastered it come first! Your skills in literary creation are far beyond what I can match!" Wen Qinghua said this sincerely.
Wen Qinghua's sudden arrival surprised Wang Zhong, and the method surprised him even more.
After chatting for about half an hour that day, Wen Qinghua stood up and left. But from then on, Wen Qinghua came to visit frequently.
Every time he came back, he always brought gifts, of course nothing expensive. Wang Zhong didn't want anyone to leave empty-handed, so he gave Wen Qinghua several sets of first drafts of collector's editions sent to him by the publishing house.
As soon as they met, the two gradually became familiar with each other and became friends who talked about everything.
Wang Zhong looks young, but he has accumulated experience and knowledge from three copies of the world. He has read almost no books on ancient and modern times, Chinese and foreign, and has visited all three mountains, five lakes and four seas.
The more he came into contact with him, the more Wen Qinghua felt that Wang Zhong's profound knowledge and vast knowledge were as vast as rivers and lakes.
Although Wen Qinghua was curious, he never asked Wang Zhong why he had such profound knowledge far beyond his age.
······
"What's wrong?" On Jiangsu Road, in a luxuriously decorated small western-style building, at the dining table, a woman in her thirties with stunning appearance, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and her hair pulled back looked at the tattoo in front of her. Qinghua couldn't help but frown and asked.
"Nothing, just thinking of a friend!" Wen Qinghua met her sister's gaze and said with a smile.
"Friends? What friends?" Wen Qingxue asked.
"Uncle, what kind of friend?" Wen Ju'an, who was sitting next to Wen Qinghua, also looked at his uncle curiously.
From before the meal to now, his uncle, who used to take everything indifferently, had wandered off three or four times in a row. How could Wen Ju'an not be curious.
"A strange man, a nationally famous writer friend!"
"Is that the writer Qingshan you mentioned last time? The one who wrote "Hexi Corridor"?"
Wang Zhong's "Hexi Corridor" was inspired by a documentary he watched in real life. It is a book composed of Wang Zhong's decades of life experience in the northwest Gobi Desert and what he saw and heard. It is composed of short stories involving many areas in the upper reaches of the Yellow River. The humanistic features, food and specialties displayed in it are fascinating.
"That's Mr. Qingshan!"
Wen Qinghua said: "Mr. Qingshan is also from Nanjing. He lives near the Drum Tower. He is not only knowledgeable and talented in literature, but also has superb medical skills. Last time I fell asleep and the pain lasted for several days. I just asked Mr. Qingshan to take a look, and he was cured immediately."
"Oh? There is such a strange person in our city of Nanjing?" Although Wen Qingxue was a little surprised, she was not shocked.
Since ancient times, there has been no shortage of strange people hidden in the chaos of the world. The Wen family is a scholarly family with a rich family background. Both Wen Qingxue and Wen Qinghua are well-read poetry and books.
"Not only that, sister, do you know how old Mr. Qingshan is this year?" Wen Qinghua pretended to be secretive.
Wen Qingxue shook her head, looked at Wen Qinghua, and asked, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-five looks at twenty-six."
"What?" Wen Qingxue's beautiful eyes widened, she looked at Wen Qinghua and said in disbelief: "Twenty-five looking at twenty-six?"
"I remember when "Hexi Corridor" was first serialized. It seemed to be a few years ago, right?"
As he spoke, he raised his eyebrows slightly: "Doesn't that mean that Mr. Qingshan was only eighteen or nineteen years old when he wrote this book?"
Wen Qinghua smiled and corrected: "To be precise, he should be seventeen years old!"
"Seventeen?"
"How could such a young man write such an excellent work?" Wen Qingxue has a good family background and good talents. Now that he is engaged in this field, his ability to appreciate literary works is unquestionable. .
"When I just found out, I was shocked too!" Wen Qinghua couldn't help but sigh when he saw his sister's reaction.
"Perhaps there really is a genius in this world!"
Wen Qingxue nodded involuntarily.
His eyes inadvertently moved to Wen Ju'an, the daughter next to Wen Qinghua. Thinking of Wen Ju'an's achievements, he accidentally compared Wen Ju'an with Mr. Qingshan in Wen Qinghua's mouth.
At about the same age, he had already written a classic book like Hexi Corridor, but his daughter had not even been admitted to college.
"Uncle, did Mr. Qingshan really write "Hexi Corridor" at the age of seventeen?" Wen Ju'an couldn't believe it.
A seventeen-year-old boy can write works that would please someone as proud as Wen Qingxue.
"Seventeen indeed!"
"Then Mr. Qingshan is really awesome!"
Wen Anju didn't feel any sense of frustration. He nodded first, then his eyes lit up and he asked curiously: "Uncle, which university did Mr. Qingshan graduate from?"
"Mr. Qingshan didn't go to college!" Wen Qinghua smiled and shook his head. He looked at his niece. He didn't know what he was thinking. Suddenly his voice changed and he said: "Mr. Qingshan's parents left early. In the early years, he was with a form and his cousin. They lived together. Later, even his cousin-in-law passed away. Mr. Qingshan followed his cousin to take care of his five children. He resigned from the factory a few years ago and opened his own medical clinic. While making money, he also Reading and creating, writing articles for magazines, and helping his cousin send his five children to school."
"This Mr. Qingshan is so awesome!" Wen Ju'an couldn't help but nodded and sighed.
"The edge of a sword comes from sharpening, and the fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold!" Wen Qingxue also said with some emotion: "The hardships of life have not worn away the edges of Mr. Qingshan, but have added a lot of charm to his words!"
······
"That's not right!" While chatting, Wen Qingxue suddenly realized: "Tsinghua University, haven't you and Mr. Qingshan known each other for a long time?"
Wen Qinghua said: "Mr. Qingshan and I have known each other for almost half a year!"
"Then what are you doing?"
Wen Qinghua said: "It's like this. Mr. Qingshan has read a lot of martial arts from Hong Kong and Taiwan in the past few years, and read a few volumes of "Shushan Swordsman Biography" by Huanzhu Louzhu. He became interested and wanted to write. I’m trying to write a few martial arts stories, and I’m currently collecting some ancient books, as well as Taoist scriptures and Buddhist scriptures. I thought, sister, you’ve collected a lot of ancient books in the past few years! I just wanted to borrow them from you!”
"That's it?" Wen Qingxue glanced at her brother angrily.
