The straight man of steel in the entertainment industry

"Thank you grandma." Lin Li answered respectfully.

Xu Zhaoying smiled and said, "This is the best Biluochun in Suzhou City, you should like it."

Lin Li smelled it, and it was indeed very fragrant.

"Well, it's very fragrant. I've never had such a good Biluochun in Sioux City."

Fang Jiandao: "Few of you young people know how to drink tea, only old people like us do."

"It's okay to drink once in a while," Lin Li said.

Fang Jian smiled and said, "Why did you think of coming to me today?"

Lin Li put down his teacup and said seriously: "Actually, I should have come to visit you a long time ago."

"It doesn't matter, if you, Lin Li, are the kind of students who come to Yanda University to greet me, I don't like it." Fang Jian's tone was full of joy.

Lin Li was a little embarrassed. To be honest, he really forgot about visiting Fang Jian during his visit to Yanda.

"Actually, I came here today to show you something."

Lin Li took out Huali's notebook that he had brought, and handed it over with both hands.

Fang Jian was slightly surprised, took it, opened it, and found that it was a poem.

"I'll see"

Fang Yurong was also curious, and said to Lin Li, "Lin Li, can I have a look?"

Lin Li nodded and said, "Yes, you can all watch."

Fang Jian held the notebook and squinted his eyes to look at it. Fang Yurong rested his head on Fang Jian's shoulder and looked at it seriously. Xu Zhaoying took reading glasses and looked at it closely.

Fang Jian read very quickly. After more than ten minutes, he read half of the book. He closed the notebook and handed it to Fang Yurong.

"If you wrote these poems when you were young, they would be good, but they are much worse than your current poems."

Fang Jian commented that the poems in the notebook were written by Hua Li many years ago, but Fang Jian didn't know it and thought it was written by Lin Li.

Lin Li knew that Fang Jian's words were good, which was already a very high evaluation.

Lin Li handed over dozens of slightly messy papers and said, "Look at these again."

The number of times Fang Jian was begged to read the manuscript was countless, and every time someone handed it over with a well-organized manuscript, Lin Li was fine, it was too casual, it felt like he came with a draft.

Fang Jian smiled wryly, took it, and looked at it.

After only looking at the first picture, Fang Jian's expression changed, and he continued to look at it.

This time Fang Jian read a lot slower, and his face became a little elusive as he read the poem.

Fang Yurong and Xu Zhaoying also quickly joined in, and their expressions were the same, becoming a little serious.

After watching for half an hour, Fang Jian slowly put down the paper in his hand, and he looked at Lin Li.

"Who wrote this poem?"

Apparently, Fang Jian also found that the crude blood stains in these poems did not seem to be written by Lin Li.

"I just met a friend." Lin Li said.

"Oh?" Fang Jian was silent for a while, "Isn't this person from the Poetry Association?"

"The group of people in the Poetry Association, no one can write with this feeling. This is obviously written by a person whose life is not satisfactory. It is not written with a pen, but written with blood."

Xu Zhaoying is also a professor of Yanda University, and her research on modern poetry is deeper than that of Fang Jian. After reading it, she felt heavy and her words hit the point.

Fang Jian nodded, he and his wife agreed.

"It is true that she is not a poet in the system, and she is not even a poet at all. She is just a patient, a poor person who was planning to end her life two days ago." Lin Li said flatly.

Fang Yurong's heart sank suddenly, these poems made her feel very uncomfortable, but knowing that this person was going to commit suicide, she felt complicated.

Both Fang Jian and Xu Zhaoying were silent. This man's poems can be regarded as real poems, because real poems are recited with life.

And in this society that claims to not bury talents, there are still people who are buried after all.

"Ah, Lin Li, the person you're talking about is the one you saved two days ago, right?!"

Fang Yurong suddenly remembered something and exclaimed.

Fang Jian and Xu Zhaoying also suddenly remembered that Lin Li said that the friend they just met was going to commit suicide two days ago. Combined with the news that Lin Li saved people two days ago, it seemed that it was the person who committed suicide.

Lin Li nodded heavily, and began to tell them the story of Huali that he had come into contact with in the past two days.

After listening to Huali's story, Fang Jian's grandfather and grandson were silent for a long time.

Huali's story made them feel sad. This is the capital, such things cannot be avoided, let alone other places?

However, what Lin Li and An Xiaoxi did moved them, and Fang Jian was even more delighted that he saw the right person.

"So, you are here today for Huali?" Fang Jian asked.

Lin Li nodded and said, "I would like to ask you to write a preface to her poetry collection."

Fang Jian is still very well-known in the industry. With Fang Jian writing the preface, at least people can rest assured that the quality of the poetry collection is fine.

"Is she going to publish a collection of poems?"

Fang Yurong was a little surprised. She didn't question Hua Lishi's level, but was surprised that the reversal of fate was so fast.

"Yes, I have contacted the publishing house, and they will publish the collection of poems for her as soon as possible." Lin Li said.

Fang Jian glanced at Lin Li with relief, and said, "Yes, tell her, I am honored to be able to write a preface for her."

Lin Li hurriedly stood up, bowed to Fang Jian, and said, "Thank you."

Fang Jian said: "It should be me thanking you for not letting an excellent poet be buried. I will read it carefully later and give you the preface tomorrow."

"Ok."

Xu Zhaoying said: "If you need help, you can talk to Rong Rong, she can also help."

Fang Yurong nodded at Lin Li with earnest eyes.

"If there is a need, I will definitely say it." Lin Li said.

It was only after two o'clock when Lin Li came. After reading the collection of poems and talking about Hua Li's story, it was almost four o'clock now.