Dimensional Bookstore

Chapter 68 Dream Weaver (3)

As soon as it dawned, the People's Park was bustling with activity, mostly people doing morning exercises, and Qu Guangqian was one of them. He danced the Tai Chi sword for a while and broke out in a sweat. When the game was over, he saw a group of old men crowded in the chess corner from a distance, and their fierce cheers made him feel itchy in his heart.

He knew that those old men who screamed so loudly must have encountered a master. He ran over excitedly, looked over through the crowd of onlookers, and saw that it was Lao Wang playing chess with a young man.

This young man was a new face, it was his first time seeing him here. But at such a young age, his chess skills are really good. In just a few minutes, Lao Wang was completely killed.

"I accept." Even if he won, the young man's expression was not arrogant. He smiled and found a step for Lao Wang: "I also took advantage of being young. If you were decades younger, I would definitely not your opponent."

Qu Guangqian pushed aside the crowd and said, "Come on, young man, let's play a few tricks."

As the saying goes, chess quality is like character. Old-school cultural figures like Qu Guangqian like to use the chess surface to figure out the character and character of the chess player.

Qu Guangqian became more and more pleased with his words. He had already noticed it when he was watching the chess game just now. Now he played a game with this young man in person, and his judgment was finally confirmed - this young man is thoughtful and has far-reaching strategies, and he can deal thunderous blows to the enemy quietly. Not in the pool.

"General." The young man moved the pawn and ate his handsomeness, with a calm and gentle smile on his face: "I accept."

Qu Guangqian was convinced and said, "The next generation is to be feared, the next generation is to be feared."

Lao Wang also shook his head and sighed: "Lao Qu, Lao Qu, you have disappointed me so much. I still expected you to win the game back for me!"

"If you want to win the game, you come here." Qu Guangqian choked, "I'm not that capable."

Qu Guangqian joked with his old friend and did not forget this young man. Old friends all spoke highly of this young man who had a moderate ability to advance and retreat, and everyone started chatting with each other with just a few words.

Qu Guangqian is the chairman of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles, and his friends are all seniors in the provincial entertainment industry, so the topic of conversation turned to literature and art. What surprised Qu Guangqian was that this young man could easily follow their topics and could also give philosophical answers to some of the questions they raised. It could be seen that he was as knowledgeable as them. After doing this for several times, everyone stopped trying to point him out and began to interact with his peers. So they talked about the books they had read recently.

"What books have you read recently?" Qu Guangqian said somewhat depressedly: "If you have any good ones, please recommend them to me. I've been short of books for a long time."

Although dream novels weaved by dream weavers are now popular, old-school people like Qu Guangqian, although they are also excellent dream weavers, still read traditional books from time to time. It’s just that there are fewer and fewer in-depth traditional works on the market, replaced by countless dream novels of mixed quality. Qu Guangqian was really depressed.

Le Jing said casually, as if casually: "I have been reading "1984" and "Animal Farm" recently. I think these two books are quite good. They are absurd but also a wonderful satire of human society. It makes people's hair stand on end when reading them. , chills down my spine. I think the authors of these two books are either geniuses or madmen.”

When he said this, Qu Guangqian was completely interested, "I have never heard of these two books. Who is the author?"

"Lu Miaomiao." The young man said a name that was unfamiliar to everyone present, and said with stern words: "She has been following the path of a traditional writer for several years, but she has remained unknown. This is really a loss to the world's literary world."

Qu Guangqian said half-jokingly: "You praise her so hard, doesn't it have anything to do with her?"

To his surprise, the young man simply nodded and admitted: "I am her agent and also her fan." The young man showed an embarrassed smile: "So I can't help but recommend her books to others. . I think her book will become a classic. It’s just that Bole is missing.”

A glint flashed in Qu Guangqian's eyes, and his smile faded slightly. His eyes when looking at the young man were no longer as affectionate as before, "Do you think we will be her bridesmaids?"

If this young man had used them as a springboard and approached them with such an impure purpose, he would be very disappointed.

Of course, Le Jing saw the coldness of Qu Guangqian's smile. He didn't explain anything more and just gently recited the content of the first chapter of "1984": "It was a bright and cold April day, and the clock had just struck ten. Three times. Winston Smith quickly slipped through the glass door of the Victory Building, chin pressed against his chest, trying to escape the cold wind, but he was not fast enough to prevent a swirling cloud of dust from following him through the door... …”

Qu Guangqian's expression gradually turned serious from disapproval at the beginning. His gut was screaming: This would be a good story! He gathered his mind and began to listen to the story with full attention.

"...You can only live under this assumption - starting from a habit that has become instinctive, you have already lived like this: every sound you make is heard by someone, every action you make, unless In the dark, there are always people observing carefully..."

"... what he was going to do was keep a diary. Writing a diary was not illegal (nothing was illegal, because there were no laws), but if discovered, it would be grounds for death or at least twenty-five Years of labor reeducation..."

"...Down with Big Brother, Down with Big Brother, Down with Big Brother, Down with Big Brother, Down with Big Brother, over and over again, filling up half a page..."

In the young man's calm and almost eerie voice, a little chill spread from Qu Guangqian's back along the muscle texture of his body and condensed into countless goosebumps all over his body. His scalp was tense and his brain was numb, as if someone had opened his skull and licked his brain.

He shivered slowly, slowly, and subconsciously looked around in fear, as if there was really a big brother monitoring their every move, and the police of thoughts were spying on their brains all the time. Then he saw the frightened and frightened faces of his old friends - the same expressions as his.

This young man did not use any speaking skills and was not a dream weaver, but he easily brought them into the world of the article. In the terminology of dream weavers, they "dream" at the same time.

There is no need for any pretense, the article itself is enough to touch people's hearts, and it has a strange magic that can make people "dream".

These seniors who are all-powerful in the literary world are sitting as neatly as primary school students, listening to Le Jing's speech eagerly, too hungry to give up a word.

"...At this time, there was a knock on the door. It was already here! He sat motionless like a mouse, hoping in vain that whoever it was would knock a few times and go away. This was not the case, The knocking on the door continued. The worst thing was the delay in opening the door. His heart was beating like a drum, but his face was probably still expressionless due to long-term habit. He stood up and walked towards the door with heavy steps. Go."

Le Jing stopped reciting, looked calmly into countless pairs of frightened eyes, and said calmly: "Chapter 1, end."

"Then what? Then what???" Qu Guangqian was dripping with cold sweat, his voice was almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of being heard by others: "Who is behind the door?"

Le Jing stood up and said irresponsibly, "I'll have to wait until you buy the book and read it yourself." He showed a sly smile to Qu Guangqian, who was rarely in a daze: "It's getting late, I should go." He took out a business card from his pocket and put it on the table, "If you still want to meet the hen after eating the eggs laid by the hen, then just call the number on the business card."

Le Jing walked away lightly, leaving behind a group of frightened old men who wanted to know the plot of the next story.

Qu Guangqian quickly put the business card into his pocket, "I'm leaving first!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Lao Wang also reacted and quickly chased after him: "Old Qu, you are not kind! Why are you walking so fast? Wait for me!"

"The old man is in a hurry to go back and buy books! Hurry up!"

He doesn't know whether Lu Miaomiao, the author of "1984", is a madman or a genius. But he can be sure of one thing - the author will be a master-level figure who will leave his name in history in the future.

A few years later, people will not remember his name, Qu, but people are destined to remember Lu Miaomiao's name!

Lu Miaomiao was sitting in the bookstore, staring at the pages with wandering eyes. She was obviously distracted and not reading.

"Hi!" Sang Qing patted her shoulder carelessly, startling her: "What are you thinking about? Are you so lost?"

Lu Miaomiao glanced helplessly at the uninvited elder sister and said honestly: "I wonder what Boss Le is doing?"

Xin Yuen interrupted and said, "Didn't he say he was going to promote your work?"

Mentioning this, Lu Miaomiao felt a little guilty: "Where did he go to sell? Don't sell door to door, right?"

Sang Qing touched her chin, "This is too cheap." She said with a smile that had nothing to do with her, "But this can be regarded as building your reputation a little bit."

Lu Miaomiao was finally annoyed.

She asked coldly: "You said you are a writer. Have you written any masterpieces?"

Sang Qing shrugged, "I'm not as good as you. I'm not a writer. I was just lucky enough to publish an article in a magazine before."

Lu Miaomiao took a deep breath. Before she could say more evil words, Xin Yuen laughed out loud: "So I've always been weird. Your article is so good, why don't you publish it?"

Lu Miaomiao was stunned for a moment. She believed in Xin Yuen's vision. Since he said yes, then Sang Qing's article was not much worse than hers - at least not worse than hers.

"Because it's boring and meaningless." Sang Qing said in her usual nonchalant tone: "I write for myself, not for others."

Xin Yuen was silent for a moment, took out her mobile phone and asked, "Can I show your work to Lu Miaomiao?"

"It's up to you." Sang Qing's voice suddenly had a coldness and melancholy that isolated him from the world: "Not many people can understand it anyway."

Lu Miaomiao checked her cell phone and saw the title in black letters at the beginning of the document: "Transformation Plan".

The author has something to say:

Don't put Lu Miaomiao and the others in the same league as those great masters in history. Because of the differences in space, time, and background, their personalities and ideas are actually different. You can see them as brand new people.

And, yes, Miss Sang Qing’s prototype is Kafka.

As for guessing Dazai Osamu, I can only say that you guessed wrong.

I think Dazai Osamu's personality is similar to that of Yezo in "No Longer Human". In my opinion, "No Longer Human" is Dazai Osamu's autobiography in a sense. The Dazai Osamu I imagine should be nervous and nervous, and his eyes are not as pure as gods, but empty and nothing.

As for Kafka, sometimes I think our personalities are a bit similar.

On the surface, we look safe and sound, and maybe we are cheerful and normal people, but in the dead of night, we are all silently collapsing and desperate, so we can only use writing to vent our emotions and escape reality.

Is this flattering myself? 233333

It's obviously my personality defect, but I feel that I have become more fashionable by comparing myself to Kafka 233333

The saddest thing is that I don't have Kafka's talent (sad)

You don't have to worry about my emotional problems. There was a time when I almost got depression, but I have come out of it now. And thanks to this experience, I feel that I can understand some things better. It can be regarded as a blessing in disguise.

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