There was no scandal about the school beauty until I went to college

As time passed, Luo Ye had arrived at the check-in area of ​​a hotel in Beijing.

The Tomato platform's activities will provide round-trip travel, food and accommodation for participants. Even though Luo Ye lives in Beijing, he is still provided with these.

After all, the process still has to go through.

As for food, Luo Ye didn't want any.

Although the food provided by the platform is expensive, it is flashy and not tasty at all.

Compared to the feasts in high-end restaurants, Luo Ye still thinks lamb skewers, copper pot hot pot, and donkey meat hot pot are more delicious.

“May I ask who the author are you?”

The staff member in charge of event check-in asked.

"I am a fallen leaf returning to its roots."

"Ah, it's Teacher Luoye. I'll take you to the front desk to check in. By the way, this is a small gift provided by the event."

The staff handed Luo Ye a handbag containing gifts for participating in this event.

Arriving at the hotel room, Luo Ye opened his handbag and looked inside, discovering things like a water cup, a notebook, and a pen.

Since the activity this time is to attend classes, it is reasonable to give these things.

Luo Ye is quite looking forward to the course taught by a professor of the Department of Literature at Peking University and Tsinghua University, and winner of internationally renowned literary awards.

Having said that, Luo Ye did not go there with the attitude of learning. He just wanted to hear what those famous people thought about novels.

Because in Luo Ye's eyes, there is no strong or weak in story creation. As long as you write your story with your heart, every story will be the best.

Data can only reflect the degree to which others recognize your story, not whether your story is good or bad.

In the online writing world, no one has ever taught anyone how to write. No one can teach others. The most they can do is teach some writing techniques.

The activity starts with check-in in the evening of the first day and starts in the morning of the second day.

Unexpectedly, Luo Ye also had to attend the morning class during the summer vacation.

At 7:30 in the morning, Luo Ye woke up and waited for the bus at the hotel entrance to take them to class.

He took a quick look and found that there were quite a few people, more than a dozen authors, and many other people participating in the event who were also literary workers.

A total of more than 30 people will go to the class together.

Soon, the bus stopped at the entrance of a park eight kilometers away. Inside the park, there was an indoor venue that had been arranged as a classroom by the staff.

Arriving in the classroom, Luo Ye couldn't wait to send a message to the fairy senior, telling her that he was going to class.

Mrs. Fan: Take a picture for me.

She also wanted to see what the professors of the literature departments of Peking University and Tsinghua University looked like.

Mr. Luo: No problem.

At eight o'clock sharp, the opening ceremony of the class began.

The editor-in-chief of the Tomato platform, the bald middle-aged man, came on stage to give a speech and invited professors from Peking University and Tsinghua University to give lectures.

Amidst the warm applause, an old lady with white hair, thin figure but excellent temperament walked up to the podium and sat on the sofa that had been prepared in advance.

You know, professors from the literature departments of Peking University and Tsinghua University are people of great status in the entire Chinese literature forum.

Each of their titles and reputations could fill a single page in a book, and their representative works are well-known both at home and abroad.

It is no exaggeration to say that if the time were pushed back a few decades, they might have been famous contemporary writers recorded in history.

Luo Ye stared at the old lady seriously, listening to her talk about her understanding of new-age novels.

From traditional literature to modern literature, and then to the more vernacular novel literature, although the old man is engaged in traditional literature, he is also very knowledgeable about novels.

What he said made perfect sense. Luo Ye nodded repeatedly, like a good student, even more attentively than when he listened to Professor Qi Wenliang's lectures.

"Student, I see you are listening so attentively, would you like to share your understanding?"

The old man suddenly looked at Luo Ye.

Suddenly, the photographer at the back of the classroom quickly came in front of Luo Ye and pointed the camera at him.

Luo Ye stood up and asked in confusion: "Excuse me, what is your understanding?"

He was indeed listening very carefully, but when his name was suddenly called, his mind went blank and he forgot everything he had just heard.

But then again, if he wasn't in school, how could he escape the fate of being called out?

"How do you understand the current novel culture? The Internet has mixed opinions on it. Some people even say that online novels are not worthy of being called literary works."

Such a sharp question made Luo Ye slightly stunned.

But he does have his answer.

Luo Ye looked at the camera, picked up the microphone handed to him by the staff, and said: "I think that in this fast-paced Internet era, online novels are more suitable for the literary style of this era... The so-called literature must eventually be oriented to the masses. Literature should be what the masses need it to be. However, it is difficult for most contemporary people to calm down and read some traditional literary works. This means that traditional literature is gradually coming to an end in this era."

"Every era has its own literary style. Perhaps one day in the future, online novels will be replaced by more direct forms of expression."

After he finished speaking, the old man nodded and said, "You are right. Literature will adapt to the development of the times. Just like in modern times, because of the form at that time, most of the literary works at that time used textual criticism..."

There were two classes in the morning, taught by different teachers.

In addition to professors, many other literary workers also participated and gave lectures to everyone, which also benefited Luo Ye a lot.

Speaking of which, Luo Ye didn’t know any of the authors participating in the event this time.

None of the authors I met at the last platform event came this time.

Mrs. Fan: How is it?

Mr. Luo: It’s okay. As long as you don’t wake me up, I think everything is fine.

That’s right, Luo Ye was called in both classes in the morning.

After all, everyone was listening attentively, but when the teacher glanced at them, everyone would lower their heads. Only Luo Ye, like a newborn calf that is not afraid of a tiger, looked straight at the teacher on the stage.

He is also the youngest author here, having not yet graduated from university, and the oldest one has a child who is even as old as Luo Ye.

It was this elder who, after class, came to Luo Ye with a smile and asked, "Boss, how do you write a love story?"

Hearing this, Luo Ye looked over and asked in confusion: "You are..."

"I am the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, and I write historical articles."

"profound……"

Luo Ye nodded, then continued to ask: "Brother, how old are you?"

"Forty-three."

"no?"

Luo Ye's originally indifferent expression suddenly changed, and a hint of respect appeared in his eyes.

"Uncle, don't call me big brother, I'm just a junior."

"The wise are my teachers. My history book ranks eighth on the history list, but yours ranks first on the love list..."

"I was lucky, and the difficulty of history is too high. If you asked me to write a history article, I would definitely not have the same results as you."

"Oh, let's not talk about this anymore. I just want to ask, how do you write a love story? I also want to write about my love experience with my wife in a novel."

"This."

Speaking of this, Luo Ye obviously seems very experienced.

He opened his mouth, but suddenly realized that he didn't know how to make a suggestion.

He wrote about his own love experience, so he didn't know how to let others write about other people's love experiences.

After thinking it over, he sighed and said helplessly: "I'm sorry, uncle, I only know how to write my own love story... But I think you can think about how to use the form of a novel to unfold the story between you and your aunt?"

"Expand the story in the form of a novel?" The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl were stunned.

"That is to say, it's like a historical article. If you write history directly, no one may like to read it. But if you let the protagonist travel back to ancient times and unfold history in the form of a novel, more people will read it."

"I see, I understand, sir."

"Uncle...it sounds weird to me."