Although the Great Cold has passed, the snow continues to fall.
Inside the Xisheng Mansion, a warm and inviting atmosphere prevailed.
The plate of stir-fried carp with garlic on the dining table looked glistening and shiny under the light of the chandelier.
Comrade Wang Xiulian poured the bottle of red wine, which had been there since before the move, into the glass pitcher she usually used for drinking boiled water.
It's euphemistically called "sobering up," but it looks like grape juice.
"149 points!"
"Old Lin, see? I told you our son's finally figured it out!"
Lin Jianguo picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks.
He tried his best to keep a straight face, but the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes had already given him away.
"Alright."
Lin Jianguo took a sip of "Zha Hong" and smacked his lips.
"This is just a mock exam. We still need to keep up the good work and not get complacent."
"Come on!"
Wang Xiulian turned around and placed a large piece of fish on Lin Que's plate.
"Son, eat more, it'll be good for your brain. Your dad's just being stubborn. Believe me, by this time tomorrow, even the security guard at the gate will know you got 149 on the test?"
"Eat your food!"
Lin Jianguo was somewhat embarrassed, so he could only vent his anger on the fish.
"Did you put too much salt in the fish you cooked today? And this rice, isn't it undercooked?"
Lin Que held the bowl, grinning from ear to ear.
Lin Jianguo complained that the fish was too old.
On the other hand, he honestly removed all the fish bones and put them into Lin Que's bowl.
Lin Que chewed on the fish without saying a word.
I just scooped the rice out of the bowl a little more thoroughly.
Some flavors, you just didn't taste in your past life.
This life is about savoring every moment.
After eating,
Lin Que returned to his studio.
He pulled the slightly crumpled registration form out of the inner pocket of his backpack.
The form Shen Qingqiu gave us had a black QR code printed on it.
A line of small print was written next to it:
"Scan the QR code to get the preliminary round questions."
Lin Que turned on the desk lamp, the light cutting through the surrounding darkness.
Point your phone's camera at the QR code, and with a "beep," the page redirects.
There are no fancy animations or exciting background music.
The screen displays a minimalist gray-white interface with only a single black dot in the center.
As it loaded, the text gradually blurred and eventually transformed into two lines of small Song typeface.
[Preliminary Round Topic: Silent Thunder]
[Note: As the ancients said, the greatest sound is silent.]
In this era of information overload and constant noise,
We can hear the roar of engines, the tapping of keyboards, and the flow of data.
But we often fail to hear the truly deafening sounds.
Please use "The Inaudible Voice" as your central theme, create your own title, and choose any genre (except poetry). The word count should be 800-3000 words.
Lin Que stared at the screen, his fingers unconsciously spinning the phone.
This question is interesting.
Deceptive.
It may seem broad, but it is actually full of traps.
If a typical high school student saw this question,
It will most likely lean towards the old clichés of "silence speaks louder than words," "listen to nature," or "listen to the voice within."
Write about the silent love of grandparents, and the scratching sound of pens on paper during exams.
It's reliable, but mediocre.
In this top-level national competition, judges have to read tens of thousands of submissions every day.
Those monotonous, lyrical essays would probably be thrown into the trash after reading just the beginning.
To break through, one must take an unconventional approach, or even use a heavy sword with no edge.
Lin Que leaned back in his chair, his gaze passing through the window and landing in the dark night.
The knowledge stored in my mind rustled like pages of a book turned by the wind.
The ink marks under Sima Qian's pen
The wisps of smoke rising from Mr. Lu Xun's pipe
And there's that figure in a wheelchair at the Temple of Earth.
Silent images flashed before his eyes.
The world's cultural environment is too frivolous.
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