Liu Chan and Wang Shanshan knew Lin Yiran in junior high school. They knew that she had always liked poetry, so they were not surprised that she had such thoughts. They just thought about it and shook their heads.

Liu Chandao: "It's a bit difficult. How to compare singing in the Super League? How to compare poetry? Write poetry?"

Wang Shanshan smiled and said, "It is definitely not possible to write poetry. You can't recite more poems than anyone else, right?"

Lin Yiran also knew that this idea was not practical, and she smiled and didn't care. However, she suddenly saw Zhang Yang staring at him, her expression seemed a little strange, and she said strangely: "What are you looking at?"

Zhang Yang's memories of film and television music in his previous life have been sealed and blank, but Lin Yiran mentioned it just now, he discovered that there was a fish that had missed the net. For example, the memories of "Chinese Poetry Conference" are still there, and some documentaries have not been killed, probably because they are cultural promotion rather than entertaining the public.

"In fact, poetry can really record programs."

Anyway, it was just a chat, and Zhang Yang didn't care. Seeing that the three girls were staring at him in confusion, he simply explained the mechanism of the poetry conference.

Wang Shanshan said disappointedly: "What's the point?"

Liu Chan nodded and said, "It's just Feihua Ling and Xielong that are interesting. It's better to keep playing these two."

Zhang Yang shook his head and said, "Music is for talent shows, and after all, it is for profit. However, poetry is different. There is almost no market for ancient poetry in modern society. If someone does this, it can only be to promote traditional culture. Since this is the case, it cannot be too difficult. Moreover, everyone has blind spots in knowledge. Even if it is "the bright moonlight in front of the window", there will definitely be someone who can't answer the next sentence... You can't think that all students understand this because our school has always had poetry classes, and there are also many people who have never attended school."

"It seems to make sense."

Liu Chan and Wang Shanshan both nodded, and Lin Yiran seemed to be thinking.

A few fish that missed the net was a small surprise, but it was useless because it was almost worthless. Except for the official promotion of traditional culture, it is basically impossible for people to be willing to shoot such programs.

The next two days were busy and calm. The final exam started on July 3rd, and the exam was completed on the fifth, and then another day of class was taken, and teachers of each subject took turns assigning homework.

Summer vacation.

Until the last day of class, Lin Yiran did not ask Zhang Yang why she hung up her phone. Zhang Yang naturally couldn't take the initiative to tell her that I was in the hospital at that time and that my sister hung up your phone. I had already scolded her. It was a pity that I felt that I wasted such a good reason I thought.

My parents and Zhang Wei had a vacation two days later, and it was not officially on the Ninth. Zhang Yang seized the opportunity of these two days and spent the first five chapters of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes", totaling 100,000 words, and then printed them out, preparing to take them back to his hometown to review for the old man.

After resting on the Ninth day of the year, early on the 10th, the family of four took the bus to the suburbs.

The old man Zhang Cong, whose courtesy name is Shilun, was born in 1925. His life experience is not very exciting, but he has also witnessed the decades of changing situations in China and even the world.

The ancestors of the Zhang family were once rich and were a big family at that time. However, the old man's branch was always poor and was born in Huizhou. When he was eight or nine years old, he came to Luzhou with his family. However, a few years later, his family died. He was alone and half of China was settled in Qingcheng in middle age.

He studied at a young age and was self-conceited and talented, but he was in a poor life. After knowing his destiny, he decided to leave the podium where he worked hard for half his life. He resigned and wrote, and gained a certain reputation under the pseudonym "Luo Shengyong". He was hailed as the leader of the four great martial arts masters at that time.

The wife who depended on each other six years ago passed away. The old man gave a pen and said, "I won't write a word again." He took care of the half acre of flower fields left by his wife every day to enjoy his life.

He had three sons under his knees, but he couldn't say he had any prospects. The eldest son Zhang Shouren died early, the second son Zhang Shouyi taught, and the third son Zhang Shouxin worked as a farmer. Fortunately, although he was not rich, he had no worries about food and clothing, which was much better than when he was young.

The bus stopped by the road. The two-story building in the former residence of my uncle Zhang Shouren was on the side of the road. Behind it were large orchards and fields with only wheat stubble left after harvesting.

There is half an acre of flower fields next to the orchard. It was created by my grandmother after she was distributed to the fields. After she passed away, she was taken care of by the old man. At this time in early July, roses, jasmine, peony, hominis, daylily, lilies... white, red and yellow blooming.

There is a pergola under the grape trellis near the two-story building. There is a mat in the shed and a desk with a book. An old man, who is famous for his writing, is wearing a short-sleeved shirt, big shorts, and a towel on his shoulder, sucking and gnawing watermelon.

"grandfather!"

Zhang Wei shouted and ran over happily. The old man followed the reputation and waved the watermelon in his hand to his granddaughter. After a moment of carelessness, the watermelon fell down and was hitting his face. The beard on his nose was covered with light red juice. He quickly picked it up in a hurry and wiped his face with a towel.

"Hahaha……"

Zhang smiled so hard that he couldn't stand up, "Oh, you don't want to give me food, and you don't have to make this bad decision. I don't dare to snatch it with you."

"Hey, why are you talking to your grandpa?"

Zhang Shouyi couldn't help laughing, but when he saw that his daughter was too arrogant, he scolded her a few words, and then the old man waved his hand and said, "You are so many rules. When you were a child, you didn't tell you the rules on your face?"

Zhang Shouyi said a little embarrassedly: "When did it happen? What else do you want to talk about it?"

While talking, he brought a large bag to the yard with him. Fang Qianxue also followed him, while Zhang Yang came to the awning with a cane, found a stool to sit down, and listened to the old man's questioning.

The old man has always been strict in educating his children. Zhang Yang remembered that when his mother talked about this, she said, "Your father is so smart, but his grandfather is disciplined by his parents. People who understand the rules too much often have no future."

Perhaps because of this, although Zhang Yang's family is a strict mother and kind father, when the brother and sister act outrageously, his mother is more indulgent than his father. For example, if Zhang Yang goes to an Internet cafe, if his father knows, it will definitely not be so easy to pass. He will not scold or block it very hard, but will keep nagging you and not nagging you like this.

It is said that it is easy to spoil each other. However, the old man is extremely strict with his two grandchildren since he was a child, and he is very spoiled with his only granddaughter. However, in the words of his mother, this is actually a manifestation of favoring boys over girls, because he does not have much hope for his granddaughter, but instead he is doting.

The old man wiped his face, asked his granddaughter to eat watermelon, got up and washed his hands in the basin under the grape trellis outside the pergola, and began to ask Zhang Yang: How is the exam, is there any delay in review during the hospitalization, is there any difficulties and confusions, and how is the relationship with his classmates...

Zhang Yang finished answering one by one. Zhang Wei had already eaten two pieces of melons. The old man asked him how the injury on his feet was, when he could remove the plaster, and so on, so that Zhang Yang could also eat the melons. He said, "I'm going to come here in the past few days. I've been stolen from the well next to me. If I don't have enough food, I'll cut it."

Zhang Yang had plaster on his feet, which was not convenient to sit on the mat. Zhang Wei handed him a piece and asked him to sit on the stool and chew it.

Zhang Yang handed her the file bag she had been holding, which was a transparent plastic bag she had found from home. Zhang Wei glanced at the densely packed printed text and said strangely: "What is this?"

Zhang Yang said vaguely while gnawing on the melon: "Don't worry, let me show it to my grandfather."

Zhang Wei pouted and handed it to the old man, who also asked: "What is this?"

"You have a look first."

The old man glanced through the document bag first, wiped his hands on the towel, and found that it would be better not to wipe it, so he simply got up and washed his hands again, washed the towel, and let his granddaughter dry it. Then he sat on the other end of the book case again and opened the document bag.

The 100,000 words were thick, just like this book. When the old man put on his glasses and looked closely, he saw a prominent book title with black in regular script printed on his head: "The Legend of the Condor Heroes"

The first time the snow and snow changed

Qiantang River is vast and flowing into the sea. It is endless day and night by Niujia Village, Lin'an Prefecture, Liangzhe West Road, and flows eastward into the sea. There are dozens of cypress trees on the riverside...

A page of a4 paper has about two thousand words. The old man read it for more than ten minutes. Until Zhang Shouyi and Fang Qianxue both came back, he was still reading that page.

Zhang Shouyi sat down on the mat, Fang Qianxue and Zhang Yang were sitting on the stool. Zhang Wei hurriedly brought the melon to his parents, and Zhang Shouyi took it in his hand, but he was not in a hurry to eat it. He looked at the old man and asked, "Dad, what are you looking at?"

The old man ignored his son and looked up and asked his grandson: "Where did it come from?"
Chapter completed!