Tokyo: The life of a literary giant begins with home self-defense!

Chapter 233: Offense and Defense Change, Reverse Cheat

"I don't allow you to talk about my idol."

The woman was making a lot of noise and looked down on Long Chuan Che. Ying Sili, who was driving, curled his lips.

Ryukawa Toru's current position in the Japanese literary world is very strange.

Although he has never won any authoritative literary award, his literary recognition is very high.

"Snow Country", "Youth Trilogy", "I Am a Cat".

It starts from three different angles: new literary forms, focusing on the confusion of young people, and creating a new sketching method.

Even people like Oo Ichirō, who had previously abused him, have fallen silent. The significance of that young man to Japanese literature cannot be overstated.

But now a French woman looked at him with neither eyes nor nose, and Ying Sili smacked his lips.

"So what if it's an international literary monthly? Ryuukawa Tetsu might not even want to be on it."

The boy's rebuttal seemed more like stubbornness to the French woman, so she sneered disdainfully and did not reply.

Eastern literature is relatively weak in world literature.

The last person to be known as a great writer was the Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore.

French literary journals are a springboard to international awards.

In her opinion, there is no one who doesn't want to go.

The red car drove over the overpass and stopped in front of a courtyard in Chiyoda District.

"Your Japanese architectural style often gives me a gloomy feeling."

Standing in front of a standard Japanese courtyard, the French woman had already made an appointment with the people inside.

The house with the word "Imamura" written on it is located in the center of the wealthy Chiyoda Ward.

The courtyard is hidden deep in the lush woods and surrounded by a moat.

Under the refraction of light and shadow, the building has a gloomy feeling.

"If you're afraid, stay put."

Some people like this traditional Japanese building while others don't. Ruriko Takagi walked up and rang the doorbell.

Soon someone came to receive them, and they were led to the back of the entrance door.

In the Imamura family's dry landscape, several people saw the young lady with her face propped up in a Japanese-style room.

The slender neck seemed like it would break if pinched, and she was staring blankly in a daze, holding a wooden hairpin in her hand.

Ruriko, who had read the Yomiuri Shimbun, knew that the wooden hairpin was the one she wore when she received the award, but she didn't know why the other person was staring at it.

"Natsuko?"

Ruriko Takagi knocked on the door gently, feeling as if she was afraid of disturbing the beauty.

The dim pillow lamp was placed in front of the young lady, and the small arc of light enveloped this gentle beauty.

The light could not provide much illumination, and a dim darkness fell around her.

The faint light reflected by the paper partitions and the contrast between light and shadow create a beautiful effect.

"It's so beautiful."

Ruriko's voice was soft, but the visiting French woman spoke directly.

The girl had a kind of frightened beauty at this moment, like a gloomy flower placed in a paint room.

"Thank you."

Oriental people are reserved and introverted, while French women are free and unrestrained.

The eldest lady nodded in thanks for Annie's compliment.

“How did you do that?”

After a brief chat, they sat down in the Japanese-style room.

The girl just felt a sense of quiet beauty, but when she turned off the pillow lamp and turned on the bright light above her head, that feeling magically disappeared.

the French woman asked curiously.

"I am planning to write a novel about mysterious aesthetics recently."

Since it's an interview, let's talk about creation and novels, Natsuko Imamura said bluntly.

"Yugen, mono no aware, and wabi-sabi are the three major traditional aesthetics of Japan. A friend of mine said he wanted to write about it before me. I'll see if I can write it before him."

The girl blinked her eyes playfully, and Annie was stunned.

"Just like that?"

The woman didn't know how to describe it. There was an indescribable beauty in the girl sitting in the dark room just now.

The paper partition reflected the faint light, and the girl lowered her eyebrows slightly. Annie thought of the bluestone road wet by the rain when she went to Ninenzaka in Kyoto a few years ago.

A light and dark flavor, traditional Japanese aesthetics.

"Junichiro Tanizaki wrote in "In Praise of Shadows" that shadows are a good example of the mysterious."

The girl raised her wrist, and her white little hand cast a dark shadow on the paper door under the light.

"Deep in the grass and trees, crouching in the dim light, relying only on the faint light reflected by the paper partition, I am either immersed in meditation, or looking out the window and listening to the chirping of crickets and birds."

Although she is a little girl, she speaks with a sense of grandeur. Anne took a pen and paper and recorded the aesthetic insights of this new Akutagawa Prize winner.

“Japan uses shadows to create beauty: iron paste and shaved eyebrows to highlight the whiteness of the face, and heavy kimonos to highlight the beauty of the neck and hands.

Under the gorgeous candlelight, in the dim light and shadow, the woman's ghost-like blue lips flashed with black teeth. This is the whitest and most beautiful face in the hearts of traditional Japanese people. "

Anne took a deep breath as the obscure and mysterious beauty was expressed in simple words in a way that she could understand.

"You are amazing."

The French woman's words were always cheerful and straightforward. Imamura Natsuko smiled and heard the other party say:
"After interviewing you, I don't want to interview the author named Ryukawa Tetsu even more."

The sudden familiar name made the young lady stunned. She pinched her chin and asked curiously:

"You're going to interview him?"

"Someone is trying to force me to go, but I intend to fight the evil forces to the end!"

Anne gritted her teeth with a bitter face, looking like she was determined to fight the capitalists to the end.

"That's it."

Natsuko Imamura rubbed her smooth and tender chin, muttering about a certain old man's partiality.

"Actually, I think you could go meet him."

The eldest lady, who was highly praised by the French editor-in-chief, shook her head.

For some reason, she missed the boy who helped her tie her hair, even though he was probably flirting with someone else behind his girlfriend's back.

“For now”

Natsuko Imamura stretched out her thumb and index finger and made a gesture that could only let through a tiny bit of light.

“He’s a little bit better than me.”

"Ah!"

The eldest lady said I was a little bit more capable.

Ryukawa Toru was sneezing in the distant city of Otaru.

He didn't know that there was a French woman who was so annoyed by her that she was curled up in the room wrapped in a quilt and refused to move.

"Are you kidding me, ma'am?"

Longchuan Che had a gloomy face, but his wife was pulling him hard on the bed.

Two or three days had passed, and the business at the music hall was getting busier and busier.

Ryukawa Toru is busy with work during the day and is squeezed by his wife at night.

This woman today.

"You want me to sneak into your sister's room!" Ryukawa Toru gritted his teeth and glared at Takeda Takako.

"What are you afraid of? It's not like you haven't slept before!"

The wife rolled her eyes.

She has been guarding day and night these days.

But his cheating sister has never come to see Longchuan Che since that night.

How can this happen?

Takeda Takako thought to herself.

She sets traps for her sister every day, but her sister just refuses to take any actual action.

How can I slap her in the face? How can I tear off my sister's fig leaf?

So the wife decided.

"you."

Takeda Takako pointed with her white finger.

"Go to the bedroom to get my sister."

(End of this chapter)