1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 184 Synthesis: Works of a Poisonous Writer

"Is the meeting over?" Zhu Lin heard the noise and poked her head out from the kitchen with a faint smile on her face.

"It's over."

Jiang Xian's tiredness from a day of running around disappeared completely, and he handed the cloth bag in his hand to her.

Zhu Lin took it with some curiosity and took out some souvenirs and the certificate of director of the Beijing Writers Association from it.

"Director!" She covered her thin lips and exclaimed, her slender fingers gently stroking the paper of the certificate.

The Beijing Writers Association was just established today. It is a great recognition to be able to serve on the leadership team of the first council.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Xian reminded. He could hear the sound of cooking in the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm still making the fried sauce." Zhu Lin quickly stuffed the certificate back into his hand and went back to the kitchen.

Jiang Xian chuckled, found a suitable place in the room, and placed his certificate of director status.

Only then did he notice that there were several of Zhu Lin's clothes and shoes in the room. The most eye-catching one was the pair of white high heels that he had bought for her, which were as new as ever.

He didn't say anything. He washed his face with a basin of water, wiped off the water droplets, and went into the kitchen.

Her Majesty the Queen was holding a kitchen knife, chopping vegetables on the chopping board: celery, radish, cucumber.
Jiang Xian moved closer, pressed against her soft back, bent down, and put his arms around her slender waist.

Zhu Lin turned her head to look at him and said in a coquettish tone, "You are such a child, you really take advantage of the chaos to mess with others."

"What are you talking about?" Jiang Xian put his finger on her pink earlobe, "I just thought of a line of poetry."

"Which one?" As their ears rubbed against each other, Zhu Lin's body gradually became hotter and her heart beat faster.

Jiang Xian chuckled, "From now on, I will dress in a long skirt and cook soup for you."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a poem Zhuo Wenjun wrote to Sima Xiangru, saying that from now on, I will just smile when I see beautiful clothes, and I am willing to cook soup and meals for you myself."

Zhu Lin's face was red as blood, her eyebrows were drooping, and she was tender and affectionate. "You, you only know how to say nice things to make others happy. I think you must have hooked up with many girls in the past."

"Comrade Xiao Zhu, I have something even better."

"What sounds better?"

"Zhuo Wenjun was a talented woman from a wealthy family. She also wrote a poem to Sima Xiangru: I wish to win the heart of one person and stay with him till we grow old together."

"."

Zhu Lin was delighted to hear this, and gradually became intoxicated by this sweet love. However, she quickly came to her senses and pushed Jiang Xian away with a hint of anger.

"I'm cooking."

Jiang Xian smiled brightly.

Don't rush things.

Put the noodles in the pot and cut the vegetables, and you can take them out and start eating in a few minutes.

The ingredients for fried noodles with soybean paste are divided into eight small bowls: cucumber, Chinese toon, bean sprouts, green beans, soybeans, shredded water radish, shredded white radish, and shredded egg skin. Some adjustments can be made according to the season.

However, ordinary people are not so particular about food and just use whatever is ready-made. Zhu Lin only prepared five dishes.

Jiang Xian put them into the bowl one by one, stirred the meat sauce with chopsticks, and slurped it into his mouth.

The taste is really good. You can tell at one glance that the chef cooks very often and has mastered his cooking skills.

But these days almost no one doesn’t know how to cook.

"How is it?" Zhu Lin looked at him expectantly.

Jiang Xian gave a thumbs up.

"Very authentic."

"Virtue." Zhu Lin lowered her head with some joy, fiddling with the noodles in her bowl with a gentle smile on her face.

While eating, Jiang Xian told her about what happened in Shanghai.

"Father of Sanmao!"

Hearing the name Zhang Leping, even Zhu Lin couldn't remain calm, as she was too familiar with the image of Sanmao.

"Is the painting finished?"

"not yet."

Jiang Xian drank a mouthful of noodle soup, raised his head and asked, "What did you say to your family?"

"Ok?"

"Ok?"

Jiang Xian asked back, and Zhu Lin reacted immediately.

Her face felt hot, she stirred the noodles with chopsticks, raised her head and blinked her almond eyes.

"My family has basically no objection. My father and mother both agree. But my mother wants you to come over and talk about it. I don't mind. You are so busy. Let's discuss this matter between us."

"I have to criticize you for this, Comrade Xiao Zhu."

Jiang Xian put down his chopsticks with a serious face and said, "This is a big event between our two families. How can I not understand the order of things? I have to visit him if I need to."

Zhu Lin was somewhat moved by what she heard. "Why are you telling me this? It's as if someone is forbidding you to go."

Jiang Xian smiled, picked up his chopsticks, and picked up another piece of radish. "I also watched a movie in Shanghai this time, called "Lush Mountain Love"."

"Love in Lushan Mountain?"

When Zhu Lin heard the name of the movie, she recalled and had an impression, "I saw it in Popular Movies. It said that Zhang Yu changed more than 40 sets of clothes in it. Was it good?"

"nice."

Zhu Lin blinked her almond-shaped eyes, then drooped them again.

I almost asked whether the movie was better or Zhang Yu was better.

But Jiang Xian has already explained it himself, "Zhang Yu wore high heels in many scenes in this movie. I think it looks good and leaves a deep impression. At that time, I was thinking that you must look better in high heels than her."

Zhu Lin covered her thin lips and chuckled.

"Don't come here."

"Really? Try it on for me to see. If it works, I'll make some changes to the script."

"I can't wear it. I can't even walk in it."

"I'll just take a look. Your fiancé won't laugh at you."

Jiang Xian is fearless, "Everything is for the sake of making a good movie."

"You are such a child." Zhu Lin glared at him resentfully.

She thought about it, the female lead of the movie was threatened by the screenwriter and forced to wear high heels in his house for him to see, what kind of thing is this?
She went to get the pair of white high heels, sat on the edge of the bed, bent over and took off her sandals, leaving only a pair of white socks wrapped around her feet.

"Take off your socks too." Jiang Xian sat on the chair, very interested.

"Take off your socks?"

"It looks good if you take it off."

Zhu Lin didn't mind taking off her clothes. Taking off her socks wasn't a big deal, but she was inexplicably nervous and felt something was a little weird.

She quickly put on the pair of white high heels. What she was wearing today was a light blue blagi, which was a Russian dress with puff sleeves and a pleated bubble skirt at the bottom, revealing a little bit of her calves.

"What a style."

Jiang Xian's eyes lit up, "Take two steps."

"What do you mean by style?" Zhu Lin didn't understand. She endured the discomfort and took a few trembling steps. Her heels made a clattering sound on the ground. Her heartbeat quickened. She felt like those dissolute women in bourgeois society, corrupting the people.
"Well, she's much prettier than Zhang Yu." Jiang Xian approached her little by little as if he was admiring a work of art.

Who can withstand such a test?

Zhu Lin immediately realized something and slowly backed away until she reached the wall, with no place to escape, and was gently embraced in his arms.

"Jiang Xian~"

"Xiao Jiang~"

She gently pushed Jiang Xian's chest, but it was useless. She had no strength enough to resist him.

From resisting, she later raised her slender white neck and responded to the rain-like kiss with a hint of lust.

Braji's face gradually became disheveled, and Jiang Xian ate up all the cream on his face.

Before everything went haywire, Zhu Lin returned to the conservatism unique to that era and pushed away her bold fiancé.

"Okay, okay."

"Jiang Xian, this is not possible now."

"Wait until you get married."

"Huh." Jiang Xian, who was pushed away, was also content.

He is not the kind of person who is impatient. If he kisses, he will touch; if he touches, he will take off his clothes; if he takes off his clothes, he will have sex. He can restrain himself.

Anyway, it's only a matter of time before he and Zhu Lin get married. He is willing to follow the tradition of this era and have a complete wedding night.

Zhu Lin did not go home at night. After washing up, she stayed at No. 15 Hufang Road for the night, but slept in another room.

Jiang Xian was lying on the bed alone, with today's scenes flashing through his mind. The construction of the cultural center had received a lot of support, his appointment to the Beijing Writers Association was also going smoothly, and there was also the matter of getting his marriage certificate with Zhu Lin.

The Queen actually has a very good figure, but it's a pity that bras these days don't gather, so it's hard to see.
My heart gradually felt hot.

45 minutes later.

Jiang Xian fetched a basin of water, squatted on the ground, and started washing Zhu Lin's socks.

At this moment, his mind was free of distractions and clear.

Looking at the two inspirations in my mind: [Painting] and [Leaving Home].

"System, synthesis."

As soon as the command was given, there was a beeping sound in my ear.

"Unlocked the sixth synthesis path:"

“【Painting】+【Leaving Home】=Novel”

The Moon and Sixpence

Introduction: This is a representative novel by Somerset Maugham, one of the most popular novelists in the first half of the 20th century. It tells the story of a stockbroker who suddenly becomes obsessed with art, abandons his wife and children, leaves his hometown, gives up his affluent and happy life, and pours his entire life into the canvas.

"Extra Reward: Random Inspiration x3"

This is it?
Jiang Xian was stunned for a moment.

"The Moon and Sixpence" is a very famous book in later generations, and Jiang Xian has read it more than once.

To be honest, before reading this book, he had a bit of contempt for Internet celebrity books and magazines.

The line "There were sixpences all over the ground, but he looked up and saw the moon" might even make him feel a little disgusted as he was being marketed.

The moon? It is just a metaphor for those illusory ideals and dreams. Sixpence? It is the reality of material desires that are within reach.

With such emotions, he read the entire book and was deeply shocked!

There is no mention of the moon or sixpence, not even a dime, in the whole book.

Putting aside the controversy over its three views, this novel is undoubtedly of world-class standard.

The character that impressed Jiang Xian the most was the mediocre artist in the book, who chose to take over and made endless sacrifices and compromises for his wife, but in return he was betrayed by his wife without hesitation.

Maugham wrote venomously: "A woman can forgive a man for the harm he has done to her, but she can never forgive him for the sacrifice he has made for her."

So sharp-tongued!

Maugham, the writer, has a very poisonous tongue, so poisonous that no one in the critic circle likes him.

Some people say that there are two types of writers. The first type is writers who are emotionally stable but write characters with mental problems. The second type is writers who are emotionally unstable and write messy characters.

Maugham belongs to the first category.

He is emotionally stable and well-informed. When he writes books, it is like an elder telling you a story. He has also been to China in the 20s. After returning, he wrote a travelogue titled "On the Chinese Screen" and a novel titled "The Veil" with China as the background.

I changed the basin to clean water, held the Guben soap, which is also a stinky soap, and rubbed it on my socks to make foam. At the same time, I briefly browsed the novel in my mind.

There are also two versions, one in English and one in Chinese.

He is also needed to complete the local transplant work.

Practice makes perfect. Jiang Xian has become quite skilled at this job.

The most important thing about local transplantation is the story background design.

The last time I wrote "Letter from an Unknown Woman", the background was designed to be Beijing from 30 to 48, and it was very comfortable to write.

As for "The Moon and Sixpence", Jiang Xian did not think it was difficult to modify. He also planned to use the two very distinctive place names, Xiangchunshu Street and Fengyangshu Village.

And give the protagonist Charles Strickland a Chinese name——

Leland.

"Why are my socks torn?" Early in the morning, Zhu Lin found two pairs of socks from the drying rack, which had already been dried.

Jiang Xian coughed and said, "I was thinking about washing it for you yesterday, but I may have washed it too carefully."

"Didn't I wash them all?"

Zhu Lin was puzzled, "Do you have any sock holders here?"

A sock stretcher is a wooden foot mold used to fill holes in socks.

As the saying goes, "If you don't mend your socks, even the gods can't afford to wear them." Nowadays, if the sole of a sock is torn, just put it on a sock stretcher, change two layers of cloth, embroider some patterns, and sew it on the socks. Then the socks are considered mended.

"Come on, don't wear it anymore, change into another pair."

The two of them went out one after the other. Jiang Xian sent her to the Beijing Film Studio, then rode his bike to the editorial office of Beijing Literature and Art.

"Dening!"

"Jiang Xian, are you back from Shanghai? This is a sample of your portfolio." Zhang Dening handed Jiang Xian a booklet.

The neat regular script in the upper right corner reads "Selected Short Stories of Jiang Xian 1978-1980". It is simple and elegant. Books of that era did not have waistbands, which made Jiang Xian very comfortable.

After simply flipping through a few pages, the first article was a preface written by Wang Zengqi. The old man was not very famous, and this preface could not stimulate sales much, but it had a special meaning to Jiang Xian. Wang Zengqi had a good relationship with him and had a deep connection with "Beijing Literature and Art". In addition, Jiang Xian also liked his articles very much.

"De Ning, I came here this time to look for some of my manuscripts and sort them out."

"Manuscript?" Zhang Dening had never heard of such a strange request. "You want to get your manuscript back?"

"If possible, I would like to take more. As you know, I am planning to set up a literary museum now."

"I'll go find the leader."

"No need to go."

Jiang Xian grabbed her and showed her a row of white teeth, "I am not your leader."

(End of this chapter)