Write well, don't fight

The breeze is blowing, and the slender and curly buds stick out their heads shyly from Zhiya, and unfold the immature leaves little by little.A little bit of spring is dotted among them, the water is swaying, and the warm sunshine gently brushes over the branches, making it rustle softly.

There was just a light rain last night, and the dripping drops of water still remained on the tips of the grass and leaves, and the clear surface reflected flashing spots of light.

Going out in the morning is really a good idea!

Breathing the fresh air with a hint of moist earthy aroma, a little crystal sweat remained on her small nose, the girl was wearing a comfortable sportswear, and her white breathable canvas shoes landed silently.

While admiring the morning scenery of Yokohama, Weisha paid attention to the clock on his wrist.

You have to go to the detective agency on time. After all, you have to take a detour on the way to see if there are any new books in the bookstore. It's okay to be late.

Because she was distracting her thoughts and didn't look ahead for a moment, the girl who almost bumped into someone gave a sudden pause, hurriedly stopped and took a step back, bowing: "I'm sorry."

When she raised her head, she saw an orange-haired man in a suit and a coat. Her brain quickly searched for his identity, and the girl exclaimed, "Mr. Zhongyuan! Long time no see!"

Zhong Yuanzhong is not so much coming prepared, it is better to say that he also has the mentality of trying his luck.After all, after he couldn't hold back that inexplicable thought for a while and published the poem, his subordinates looked at him strangely, even Akutagawa.

Nakahara Chuya: ... Akutagawa, you yourself published a novel ...

Akutagawa: ...I never thought Master Zhongyuan would...

It looks like a martial arts school, so it turns out that the brain still has literary cells...

Especially when the leader specially asked him to have a brief conversation, the subtle eyes and tone...

Chuya Zhongyuan: "Boss, you are looking for me."

Chief Mori: "...Chuya-kun, although the mafia is not just a job of fighting and killing, it is also necessary to properly improve cultural literacy."

Nakahara Chuya [confused]: "Yes."

Chief Mori [scrutinized the respectful man in front of him with indescribable eyes]: "...Nakaya-kun, I didn't treat you badly."

Nakahara Chuya [slandered inwardly but kept serious on the surface]: "No."

Chief Mori: "Improving cultural literacy is a good thing. The organization will not care about the personal hobbies of its subordinates, but... the reputation of the organization cannot be misunderstood by outsiders."

For example, there are rumors that the port mafia can't pay wages and even the cadres have to write books to earn extra money to support their families!

Although he likes to buy small skirts for Alice-chan, he doesn't lose a cent of the money that should be distributed to his subordinates!

Nakahara Chuya: ...Yes, the subordinates will pay attention.

After that inexplicable conversation, Nakahara Nakaya keenly discovered that the strange eyes shot by his subordinates not only did not decrease, but also inexplicably increased, especially around him, Akutagawa and Mr. Hirotsu.

Every time the leader sees them, he will look at them with sad eyes, and even the elder sister will come over to ask him if he has no money, so don't be embarrassed to speak up...

He is not some poor mackerel who has no money and only steals other people's money!

He suddenly thought of the girl who made him write poems inexplicably. After a special investigation, he found that the other party behaved very well. Apart from going to school, he went to the detective agency, bought books on the way, and occasionally came to the riverside for morning exercises.

It's completely the template of a good girl.

For some reason, he suddenly had an intuition that he must be able to meet the other party this morning.

Zhong Yuanzhong also lifted his hat and coughed: "Hey, you..."

The girl suddenly slapped her head: "Oh, I almost forgot! Mr. Zhongyuan, please wait."

Nakahara Nakaya, who hadn't had time to say a complete sentence, watched helplessly as the girl ran to the convenience store across the road, paid for something and then ran back.

The girl bowed at 45 degrees and offered it with both hands—a bottle of milk in a boutique package?

"Mr. Zhongyuan, happy birthday!"

Zhong Yuanzhong was also stunned, although he didn't quite understand why the other party wanted to give him milk, but it was a wish after all, and the girl was the first person to say that to him today, he almost forgot.

The girl watched the orange-haired man accept her gift, and her cheeks were dyed pink with excitement, as if wearing a veil of morning glow.

She took out a small book from her pocket and handed it over, her eyes sparkling: "Can Mr. Zhongyuan sign it for me?"

Nakahara Chuya——Because of the girl's congratulations, he felt a little warmth in his heart, so he simply took it and signed his name with a big stroke of a pen.

Wei Xia excitedly put the book on his heart and twirled it several times: "Thank you so much, I will definitely treasure it for the rest of my life!"

Zhongyuan Zhong also suddenly remembered something serious, and straightened his serious face: "Your last time..."

"Mr. Zhongyuan is really hard at work!" Wei Xia stared at the orange-haired man in front of him with a kind of distressed and loving eyes. It was the first time that Zhongyuan Zhong also felt a chill in his body when he was stared at by this kind of eyes, and just slipped to his mouth The words slipped down again.

Wei Xia nodded in his heart, obviously last time his height was only up to Mr. Zhong Yuan's neck, this time it reached the height below the other's eyes. staff.

Black-hearted capitalist. Zhou Papi. Mori Ogai: "Ah..."

The blond girl: "Rintaro, stay away! If you have a cold, don't infect me!"

"Mr. Zhongyuan, you must take good care of your body. I know that your work is very hard, especially being a poet!"

Wei Xia shook the orange-haired man's hand excitedly: "Mr. Zhong Yuan, don't give up writing poems! You must take care of your body. No one will listen to my poems when you write them. A group of people will just watch with cold eyes. This kind of words It really breaks my heart!"

It was this feeling again, and the golden arrow of the wonderful words shot into his heart.This filthy world, hello, hello, hello everyone, why should I work so hard to write poetry!Why should I write poems for people who can only clap and applaud but actually don’t expect my poems at all!

Zhong Yuanzhong also turned around and ran with the milk bottle in his hand. At this moment, he forgot everything and only had one thought in his heart:

He wants to write, he wants to write poems to tell this dirty world.

Poets work so hard!He will never write any more poetry!

small theater:

The detective agency once again watched the newspaper with a huge headline: Why is the budding star poet disappointed in literature? Is this the corruption of society or the loss of morality!

The poem published by the cutting-edge poet Nakahara Chuya caused an uproar this time:

"The Poet Works Hard"

I don't want to write any more poems

Who wants to write poetry?

Everyone doesn't listen to my poems

just pretending to listen

A group of people are just watching with cold eyes

It doesn't matter what kind of love you have for poetry

Even so, I still pretend to be listening

clapping loudly

If I write another poem after the applause

Another look of disgust

I don't want to write any more poems

Hello, me, everyone, there is no need to write poetry in this world!

The author has something to say:

Everyone in the detective agency: ...the mafia is not easy...

Wei Xia slapped the table, and angrily took out a large box of utility knife blades from the desk drawer: Mr. Zhong Yuan must have been bullied by the black-hearted boss.

Osamu Dazai [raises his hand happily]: Add me, add me!

(Actually, if the translation is literary and artistic, this poem is still very good, but I feel that the translation is so cute)

Mori Ogai who received a lot of blades innocently: What did I do...