If you want to obtain privileges in this era, you must not take the usual path. Qin Huai actually had a plan in mind. After entering the city, he went directly to the stationery store to buy a book of letter paper and a few envelopes, and also bought a pen and ink, and then found a teahouse to sit down.
That’s right, there are still places for entertainment these days. The teahouse is a quiet place in the bustling city, and the waiter is a young man of fifteen or sixteen years old.
This teahouse also seems to be state-owned. Like state-owned restaurants, prices of various teas are hung behind the counter, with the cheapest cup of tea being 20 cents.
A cup of tea is more expensive than two bowls of noodles. The prices are not low, but prices have never been calculated in this way. No matter what era, leisure and entertainment consumption is always higher than normal living expenses.
If you buy sweet potatoes for 20 cents, you can buy several pounds, enough for the whole family to eat for several meals.
But here, it’s the price of a cup of tea.
There weren't many tea drinkers. Qin Huai's neighboring table was occupied by several people who looked like retired cadres. Come to think of it, anyone with leisure time in this era must be either rich or noble. When Qin Huai, a young man with pen and paper, arrived, these people had already studied him.
The 17-year-old boy was wearing the tattered clothes of a countryman, and his trousers were covered with yellow mud all the way to his knees. These were mud spots caused by walking on the dirt road, and all countrymen would have them.
He was wearing a pair of old straw sandals. Apart from his clean head and face, he was just a country boy. It was rare to see a country boy willing to spend money in a place like this.
Other country kids are extremely timid when going to the city, but this one seems to be different. He doesn't care about his shabby status at all, and even smiles and nods to greet a few tea drinkers.
Although the tea drinkers ignored his greeting.
Qin Huai didn't care what these people thought. He spent a huge amount of money to come here just to perform. He thought that everyone would forget his poverty and he had some confidence.
If there is any privilege in this era, it is the intellectuals, who can publish a few articles or poems in newspapers and magazines and get a non-staff journalist certificate. If they are lucky enough to get a certificate like a writer's certificate, then the problem they worry about most, being forced to leave home and starve their family to death, will no longer be a problem.
In his previous life, he was an only child. His father died early and his mother raised him alone. He always dreamed of having a younger sister. After being reborn here, although he had parents, it was worse than having no parents.
It was my younger sister who had two children at once. Especially when they first came, he was confused and it was the maid who went out to beg for food to support him, so he could survive.
Thinking about the difficult lives the two little girls had lived in the past, he decided to make sure they lived a happy life no matter what.
Everything he did was for one goal, to stay with his two younger sisters and take care of them.
When he picked up the pen, he realized that his mind was full of distracting thoughts, about his past life and this life. He shook his head vigorously, and held the pen for a long time without thinking about how to start writing.
If he were to write a novel, even a short story, it would have to be around 10,000 words, which he certainly couldn't finish in one afternoon, so he could only write poetry.
Thanks to his life experience in his previous life, he was still an artistic youth who liked the poems of Gu Cheng and Haizi. He also tried to write them himself, but what he wrote was a bit disgusting: "Even if you don't take a shower, I am willing to kiss your butt. I just like you so much."
It is definitely impossible to create something original on my own, so the idea from the beginning is to copy.
But whose copying can make me famous? The paper and pen I bought today, as well as this teahouse, all cost a lot of money. I can't hang out here every day, which means I must copy well and become famous today to make the money worthwhile.
The tea drinkers had originally lost interest in him, but when they saw the ragged country boy in front of them actually holding out paper and pen as if he was about to write something, they couldn't help but feel curious. However, after waiting for a long time without seeing the boy write a single word on the paper, they began to laugh in their hearts.
I don't know where this fool came from. I guess he spent the money his mother gave him to marry a wife. He will probably get beaten by his father when he goes back. He wants to write a letter? He can't write a single word after a long time. It's so funny.
Qin Huai recalled two famous poems from his previous life in the Internet era.
Now that I had made up my mind, I started to do it. So, amid the tea drinkers' subtle sarcasm, I suddenly began to write furiously.
The tea drinkers were stunned. Hey, he started writing?
What was he writing? From a distance, I could see the writing style, but it didn't seem like a letter.
Qin Huai had already written on a piece of paper. He tore it off and looked at it. He found that there were a few ink stains that seemed unclear, so he copied it again and put it aside to wait for the ink to dry.
He thought about it again and continued to write quickly. Hard pen calligraphy is fast. He picked it up and looked at it. Well, there was no white drawing in Pang Zhonghua's calligraphy copybook when he was a child. Although he was reborn, the basic skills of calligraphy were also brought with him.
The tea drinker saw him reading for a while with his head shaking, then he put the paper away, put away his pen and ink, picked up the cup and took a sip.
Seeing that there was nothing surprising about him, the tea drinkers withdrew their attention. Qin Huai asked the waiter to refill his water, then closed his eyes to rest.
There was a newspaper in the county, and his initial plan was to submit his article directly to the newspaper.
There was another farmer in the teahouse like Qin Huai, but he had a friend, a man who was obviously a cadre.
The cadre said, "Teacher Xiong, you must help me this time. The newspaper in the neighboring district has invited a famous peasant poet to support the event. I heard that Crazy Shi wrote five poems in one breath. Teacher Xiong, you are the only one in our county who can rival Crazy Shi. I don't think anyone else can do it."
Teacher Xiong took a sip of tea and said, "Poetry writing is about rhythm and state of mind. It's never meant to be a test of strength. Rhythm and words are the product of a master's hand. Crazy Shi's five poems appear to have been written on the spot, but in reality, they took who knows how long to conceive. Even if I had come up with five in such a hurry, their quality wouldn't necessarily be as good as that piece of shit."
At first he spoke quite seriously, but at the end he revealed his true colors. Qin Huai just happened to hear it and burst out laughing.
The cadre glared at him fiercely and said, "Teacher Xiong, I don't think the five poems that Crazy Shi hid are of any high quality. I think if you could take action, you would definitely be able to crush his arrogance. There are many poets in Wanbei County, but none of them can compare to you."
Teacher Xiong was very impressed by this cadre talk. He stroked his long beard and said modestly: "Writing poetry requires a wealth of experience. Young people certainly can't compare with me. I have experienced too much. Every wrinkle on my face is a poem of time."
As expected of a wet man, he praised himself as so fresh and unworldly. Qin Huai felt that he had learned something.
The cadre said hurriedly, "That's right, Teacher Xiong, how about this? Could you please write a poem for me today? I'll publish it in the Dawn Newspaper right away. They've already called, and our county can't be cowardly."
Teacher Xiong thought for a moment with reserve and said, "Since President Yu has said so, I will help Wanbei gain some face."
"Thank you so much, Teacher Xiong. The reputation of our northern Anhui can only be saved by your efforts."
Hearing the words "Dawn Newspaper," Qin Huai immediately walked up to the two of them with the two pieces of paper he had just written and said, "Teachers, I heard you were talking about poetry."
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