I'm not a literary giant

Chapter 26 Don Quixote
When Wang Zixu saw the woman, his whole body was shocked.

The woman had shoulder-length, slightly curly hair and was wearing an apricot-colored Chinese-style sleeveless long skirt decorated with ink bamboo paintings. The slit at the hem of the skirt revealed two extremely long legs that were wrapped in pearlescent translucent stockings.

Over the skirt was a thin shirt of the same color, which was light and fluffy. One sleeve had fallen down, revealing her smooth white shoulders. Under the ends of her hair were silver pendant earrings, long and gleaming with a cold light.

In fact, if you look closely, her facial features are not perfect: her eyes seem to be able to speak, moist and spring-like, but not too big; the corners of her mouth are raised, as pink as cherry blossoms, but the color is a little too light; her forehead is also a little wider than the beauties on TV.

But when these are combined together, their respective shortcomings are eliminated, just like Bach's Harpsichord Concerto No. 2 in D minor, each part is trying hard to show its own characteristics while maintaining just the right balance.

In other words, she cannot be simply described as "beautiful". Whether it is her smooth shoulders or her strong long legs, they all exude vigorous vitality. Rather than saying she is "beautiful", it is better to say that she is the embodiment of libido.

Wang Zixu seemed to see a elk appear in the office. It first knocked Wang Zixu over with its huge antlers, then jumped onto the table, trampling the room into a mess, with manuscripts flying all over the sky.

"Hey Hey hey!"

Wang Zixu was suddenly startled to see the big face of the middle-aged man in front of him, staring at him suspiciously.

"I asked you when Director Mei will be back?"

The prince seemed to have just woken up from a dream and replied, "About two hours later."

"so long?"

The man frowned, looked down at his watch, and asked the woman, "Mr. Ning, do you want to wait?"

At this time, the woman was already sitting on the sofa, with her hands on her knees, dimples on her face, and she looked obedient:

"Of course I have to wait. I came to Xihe just to see Senior Mei. It's worth waiting no matter how long it takes."

The middle-aged man said, "Okay, then please wait for a moment. I'll go do something else and come back later."

The woman nodded: "Go and do your own thing, don't worry about me."

After the man left, only Wang Zixu and the woman were left in the office.

Wang Zixu opened the "Speech at the On-site Meeting to Celebrate the Completion of the New Dream Project and Optimize the Business Environment" on the computer, dragged it up and down, looked at it casually, and stole glances at the woman.

The woman seemed to notice that he was looking at her and her gaze drifted over. Wang Zixu quickly turned his head to look at the screen, staring at the speech on the screen intently, muttering to himself, as if he wanted to eat the computer.

She was very beautiful, just like a painting in the Louvre. Wang Zixu could stop for a long time to appreciate the beauty of the painting, but he would never be crazy enough to want to possess it.

Only very wealthy people would want to buy the paintings they like when visiting the Louvre. That is the willfulness of the rich. The prince would not even dare to think about it. It is precisely because of his humbleness that he can better maintain a simple appreciation of beautiful things.

He couldn't help but fantasize: If this woman were in a knight novel, she would definitely be a real heroine, making countless Don Quixotes run around like clowns, and then wearing the ring presented by the most powerful knight.

As for Prince Xu, he is neither a knight nor Don Quixote. He may be Sancho, the servant beside Don Quixote.

"My name is Ning Chunyan," the woman suddenly introduced herself, "I have some connection with your Director Mei, and I came here specially to meet him this time."

"Oh." Wang Zixu's voice was dry.

Ning Chunyan asked, "Is Director Mei still writing poetry?"

Wang Zixu said: "I don't know. I'm not from this office."

Ning Chunyan opened his eyes slightly, as if he wanted to ask him why he was sitting here.

Wang Zixu said nothing. He didn't know why he was sitting here. He put his hands on his legs, feeling that he must be acting foolishly in her eyes.

The office was quiet, and the clock on the wall was ticking. Time was unbearable. The phone call still hadn't come.

Wang Zixu didn't want to talk to this woman any more, but he couldn't hold it in any longer and asked, "Excuse me, are you the Ning Chunyan who published the novel in September?"

Ning Chunyan covered her mouth, her eyes moving, "Have you seen September?"

Wang Zixu murmured, "September is the top pure literature magazine in the country."

Ning Chunyan laughed and said, "I thought no one reads pure literature anymore."

Her smile was like light raindrops rippling through a spring pond. Wang Zixu quickly turned his head away from her and continued to read his speech silently.

September is a domestically renowned pure literature magazine, and publishing articles in it is the only way to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Wang Zixu has carefully read September, and Ning Chunyan's writing left a deep impression on him.

When he saw this name, he immediately thought of Li Bai's "Heaven and earth are the inns of all things; time is the passer-by of a hundred generations", leaving him with endless reverie. He thought Ning Chunyan was a kind old lady with wisdom in her eyes between wrinkles, but he didn't expect that she was so young, even looking younger than himself.

He understood why he thought Ning Chunyan was so beautiful. The literary temperament mixed in her was like a special attack on people like him, breaking through all his weaknesses.

There was a voice outside the door, and then the door was pushed open. The fragile silence was broken in an instant, and a man walked in and said in a loud voice:
"What a fate! I didn't expect it to be such a coincidence that Lady Ning has also returned to Xihe!"

The man was short and thin, with sunglasses on his head and neatly combed hair. He looked high-spirited, but there was a hint of greasy feeling in his bones.

Ning Chunyan saw the man, stood up, put his legs together, tilted his head and asked: "Shen Qingfeng?"

Shen Qingfeng laughed and stretched out his hand. Ning Chunyan hesitated for a second and touched his fingertips, but Shen Qingfeng held his hand with both hands.

"Ningcai Nuzhen is more beautiful than she looks in the photo! A rare guest! Welcome back to Xihe!"

Prince Xu stared at the scene in front of him blankly, feeling a bit like a dream. Because he also knew Shen Qingfeng.

This one is more heavyweight.

Shen Qingfeng used to be a radio announcer and host. After resigning, he opened a homestay and published a book called "Sister, Hold Your Hand". The book became a hit, and he continued to publish one book per year. Each time, his book would top the charts, creating a cultural spectacle.

On the bedside of Wang Zixu's bedroom, he always keeps Proust's "Remembrance of Things Past", Faulkner's "Absalom! Absalom!", and Vargas Llosa's "Bar Talk". On his wife's side, Shen Qingfeng's "Sister, Hold Hands", "Run! Hakimi", and "Hallelujah, Too Cool" are always playing.

He glanced at his wife's book and never read it again, because he felt sick. But his wife read it with great interest.

His wife always scolded him, "You look down on this and that every day. I think Shen Qingfeng is more educated than you, otherwise why is he so popular? What qualifications do you have to look down on him?"
Wang Zixu said, you are judging by the results. Success does not necessarily mean talent. Anyway, I did not see any useful content in Shen Qingfeng's book.

The wife rolled her eyes and said, "If you are successful, you may not be talented, but you will definitely be rich. If you are unsuccessful, you will definitely not be talented."

Wang Zixu couldn't refute him.

Shen Qingfeng sat on the sofa, crossed his legs, and chatted with Ning Chunyan.

"You are also from Xihe, and so am I, but you are a member of the Provincial Writers Association, and I am the vice president of the Municipal Writers Association. We should communicate more in the future so as to better serve our writer friends."

Ning Chunyan chuckled and said, "I am a casual person and not very good at leadership. If you want to communicate with me, I can't say anything useful."

Her answer was polite and gentle, but it concealed a hint of reluctance. Shen Qingfeng saw that the beautiful woman was not interested, so he brought up a new topic.

He added: "We are all people who have traveled all over the country. How can we not meet each other today? If it is fate, we should drink. Come to my B&B tonight. I will treat you to a drink and let you stay in the B&B for free. When you leave, just sign our wall."

Ning Chunyan declined his invitation again, saying that she wanted to go home and live with her parents.

Shen Qingfeng said in surprise, "Has Ms. Ning not brought her parents to a big city yet? I have houses in major tourist cities across the country. My parents can live wherever they want. Sometimes I can't even find them."

Ning Chunyan said indifferently, How could I be as rich as Mr. Shen?

After hitting several snags in succession, Shen Qingfeng didn't know what to say. The office became quiet and the sound of the clock returned to the office.

Wang Zixu regretted it. He regretted why he had taken on that job and was forced to sit here.

He had had many fantasies about the literary world in the past, but he never expected that the literary world would come to him so directly and so abruptly.

One is a best-selling author, and the other is a pure literature writer. They gathered in the office of Xihe’s number one writer. They are all representative figures, but the atmosphere at the scene is so unbearable.

He began to pray, hoping that the young man would call him soon and rescue him from this awkward situation.

"Oh, right." Shen Qingfeng was scrolling through his phone when he suddenly turned his body and said, "Does Miss Ning know Lin Feng from our Writers Association?"

The name Lin Feng made Wang Zixu straighten up quickly.

Ning Chunyan said: "I think he writes reportage. I remember he published a novel in Novel Monthly."

Shen Qingfeng said: "Yes, this person has always been a bit pretentious. But something very interesting happened yesterday."

Ning Chunyan tilted his head, waiting for him to continue. Shen Qingfeng continued:

"He went to a work unit for inspection yesterday, got drunk with a clerk, went home and became crazy, and was kicked out of the house by his wife. He recited Li Bai's "The Hard Road" on the street. Did you know that?"

Ning Chunyan widened her beautiful eyes: "Why?"

(End of this chapter)