Gong Xuegang had just arrived on the train last night. After a night's rest, he ran to the doorman in high spirits to ask if there was any letter for him.
"Eh? Xiaoxue! When did you come back? Are you waiting for a letter from your great poet lover again?"
Gong Xue, who was looking out from the gatehouse, was patted on the shoulder by her good friend Zhang Rong from the drama troupe, who smiled teasingly.
Gong Xue never told anyone about her correspondence with the great poet Zhong Yuejin and their mutual affection for each other, and only mentioned it to her best friend Zhang Rong.
Zhang Rong was also amazed and envious at the time. After all, she was also a literary young woman and loved "Facing the Sea, Spring Flowers Blooming" very much.
However, she was not as bold as Gong Xue, who dared to send photos and letters so directly to confess her love to a stranger she had never met.
In this conservative era, Gong Xue's behavior is very easy to be criticized.
Zhang Rong admired Gong Xue's courage very much, and suggested that when Zhong Yuejin returned to Beijing, he should accompany her to see what the great poet looked like.
So, when she came to the drama troupe early this morning and saw Gong Xue standing anxiously at the gatehouse, Zhang Rong immediately guessed that she must be waiting for a letter from Zhong Yuejin.
"Oh my! Rongrong, you are going to scare me to death!"
Gong Xue looked back and said with a smile.
"How is it? Any letters? Didn't he say that he would be transferred back to the capital after the New Year and then write to you to arrange a meeting?"
Zhang Rong asked curiously.
Gong Xue shook her head in disappointment and said, "No letter. It seems that he won't be back to Beijing soon! I'll wait a little longer!"
Such a wait is extremely tiring, full of hope but with no end in sight.
However, at this time, Zhang Rong glanced at the newly arrived People's Daily at the doorman's place, and especially saw the headline on the front page, "One poem kills two people, fake fakes are rampant, a warning bell," and immediately shouted with interest:
"Uncle Qin! Let me see the People's Daily!"
"Rong girl, take it! You have a good eye. Today's front-page report in the People's Daily is very interesting. Because of a poem, two lives were lost. Actually, to be precise, it should be three lives..."
The doorman, Uncle Qin, adjusted his reading glasses and handed over the People's Daily with a smile.
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