Entertainment since 1999

Chapter 466 Wen Li is about to give birth

Author: Baishang Prawn Rice

Chapter 466 Wen Li is about to give birth

Ji Xianlin is a master of Chinese studies and a master of academic circles. He is well-versed in Chinese and Western languages ​​and is proficient in dozens of languages. Among them, there are many remote languages ​​such as Greek and Arabic. He is especially good at Tocharism, and his works include "Ji Xianlin's Collection of Essays".

Such a literary theory master is most well-known, but he was a swearing diary when he was studying in his early years.

In the diary, Ji Xianlin hates exams and classes, and loves watching women's basketball team games the most. He either likes basketball or goes to see girls' thighs.

Whether I read it or not, I also commented in my diary: "The girls in the women's basketball team have nothing good to look at. They are all too dark and they left before they finish watching it."

Frivolous, but also open-minded.

Han Qiao said that he had the same life needs and hobbies as Mr. Ji, and he was really realistic and had no bragging elements.

"Han Qiao, are you real or not?" Ma Wen glanced at the team. She had the best relationship with Han Qiao. During the meeting, she often sneaked out to drink and brag.

Hanqiao's wine tasted very well. When he got drunk, he fell into her arms and went to sleep.

What a hell is Han Qiao? She knew it clearly and looked suspicious: "Han Qiao, Old Ji is the most diligent, are you really the same as him?"

"What am I lying to you? If you don't believe me, go and read Mr. Ji's diary by yourself." Han Qiao said, touching Ma Wen with his shoulder: "Xiaoma, how about it? I'll take you to see Mr. Ji later. Please invite me three drinks."

"Yes." Ma Wen thought for a moment and said seriously: "It's okay to drink, you can't get drunk."

"I'm not drunk before the cup."

Ma Wen stared at her eyes, Han Qiao straightened her back, her face did not blush and her heart did not beat: "Okay, I admit that I brag."

"You'd better be." Marvin rolled his eyes.

Ji Xianlin invited each other, but Zhang Yimou and Han Qiao dared not delay, fame and fortune are the same.

Ji Xianlin is 94 years old this year. In his later years, his health is worrying and he is often hospitalized.

Han Qiao felt a little respect for the old man who could come to participate in the meeting regardless of his illness.

There are many unsatisfactory aspects in China, but there are also many hard bones. They use their backbones to support a vast galaxy.

In the Olympic Building, the parking lot, several people arrived in front of an ambulance.

Several doctors in white coats were waiting in front of the car door. When they saw several people, the doctor in charge instructed him: "Director Zhang, Mr. Han, please try to be faster."

"Old Ji, is this?"

"I caught a cold a few days ago, causing gastric ulcers." The doctor briefly mentioned the condition, and finally said seriously: "It's only 15 minutes."

"Okay." Zhang Yimou nodded, thought for a while, and said, "Han Qiao, Mr. Ji is responsible for the cultural creativity of the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games. You know the most about the creative aspects of Olympic Games. There are only 15 minutes, the time is tight and the task is heavy."

"no problem."

Han Qiao put away his hippie smile. Colds and stomach ulcers were all minor illnesses, but the 94-year-old man was in a serious condition.

Such a national treasure.

The loss of one is all about China's losses. Several people disinfected it, Han Qiao led the way and got into the ambulance.

The ambulance is decorated in a simple manner, with a hospital bed, medical equipment, monotonous blue and white, and the smell of disinfectant.

In the pale tones, a touch of antique color is decorated with elegant and lifelike.

Small bookcase.

The bookcase has three floors, the books are arranged neatly, and a book is unfolded, and the book paper is folded, so the owner often reads it.

On the hospital bed.

The old man is as thin as a thorny man, with a silver beard, and has a strong spirit and a refreshing spirit. Especially his eyes, which are turbid and have a shrewd worldly style.

Han Qiao looked up and looked at each other. For a moment, his body was stunned, and he felt an illusion that he was seen through from head to toe.

His scalp was numb.

The next moment.

The gentle old man cleared his throat and said gently: "My friend Han Qiao is here. It's relatively simple and has poor hospitality. Come in quickly."

Han Qiao wiped his forehead and sweated layer by layer. The masters of Chinese studies are all human spirits!

He even suspected that Ji Xianlin saw through his identity as a time traveler and thought about it. This speculation was too absurd.

Ji Xianlin has a high seniority.

Han Qiao bowed slightly and said politely: "The mountain is not high, but the immortals are famous; the water is not deep; the dragon is spiritual; thanks to Mr. Ji's love, he dare not say it is simple."

Said.

Han Qiao bent in, straightened his back and sat upright like a bell. Behind him, Zhang Yimou and Ma Wen sat down one by one, and Lao Mouzi said respectfully: "Good afternoon, Mr. Ji."

Ma Wen was not calm, his mouth was trembling with excitement, and his voice could not suppress his excitement: "Hello Ji... Mr. Ji, my name is Ma Wen, my job is painting."

Mr. Ji smiled kindly and kindly, nodded and greeted: "Hello, Ma Wen."

"Mr. Zhang, there is no tea here, please forgive me."

"I dare not, I dare not." Lao Taozi sat upright and was very reserved, saying in his words: "Old Ji, you are the cultural and artistic consultant of the opening ceremony, and the staff at the opening ceremony are all waiting to listen to your teachings."

Zhang Yimou was reserved, Ji Xianlin waved his hand and said kindly: "Yimou, you are the director of the opening ceremony, I am the cultural and artistic consultant, I must be a good consultant, so I have a few opinions, and I want to use the time I still have, to say it out and discuss it with you."

Time is tight.

Ji Xianlin pointed to the small bookcase behind the hospital bed, Han Qiao took out the notebook.

"My friend Han, thank you." Ji Xianlin has a high status, but he does not rely on his seniority, is very well-educated, and speaks without any haste. "Director Zhang, 5,000 years of China, the century-old Olympics, here, as the host of the Olympics, China should fully display the beautiful side of Chinese culture to foreigners."

Zhang Yimou said: "Mr. Ji, do you have any good suggestions?"

"I suggest "carrying out" Confucius at the opening ceremony because he is a typical representative of Chinese traditional culture." Ji Lao said: "The world is not peaceful today, and there are competitions everywhere. China has always been a country that pursues peace, and the best way to reflect this culture is to invite Confucius to be united in the world."

After saying so many words in one breath, Mr. Ji coughed twice. The medical staff around him rushed forward and wanted to relieve his anger. Mr. Ji waved his hand and signaled not to use it. He continued: "The Olympics is an opportunity to show the great image of our country and the great nation."

Confucius, please come out!

This is a big deal, and Zhang Yimou feels weak, so Mr. Ji’s opinions must be taken seriously.

She racked her brains, and at this moment, Zhang Yimou's mind flashed with inspiration: "Old Ji, you don't know that the creativity of the Olympic Games was proposed by Han Qiao. The romance he advocated and the free opening ceremony of the Olympic Games was highly praised by the Olympic Organizing Committee."

"Damn."

Han Qiao really didn't expect that Zhang Yimou was so sarcastic. He pushed him out as a shield!

Mr. Ji smiled casually, how could he not know Zhang Yimou's plan?

His eyes turned to Han Qiao.

When he was at his age, he had his own standards to see people. At a glance, Ji Xianlin said kindly and kindly: "Mr. Han, the romantic and free opening ceremony of the Olympic Games you proposed. From this we can see that you have a deep understanding of the traditional Chinese culture. What do you think I said?"

In the ambulance, a few pairs of eyes turned to Hanqiao in one go.

Han Qiao straightened his waist and back and said calmly: "Old Ji, in the eyes of Westerners, the world is a prey of the weak and the strong. They advocate the truth in their fists, and those with great strength are kings..."

Ji Xianlin nodded.

actually.

The answer is just like writing a paper. Han Qiao's problem solving is good, and he is very interested.

Han Qiao said casually: "I do not agree with the prey of the weak. From the tradition of our Chinese culture, we do not talk about the prey of the weak. Zhang Zai, a thinker of the Song Dynasty, said: People, my compatriots, things, I am with them."

ambulance.

The little nurse, doctor, Ma Wenru listened to the heavenly book, frowned and confused, and Zhang Yimou looked thoughtful.

Only.

Mr. Ji agreed, nodded, and said kindly and kindly: "It's very good, keep talking."

"In this sentence, people are my brothers and brothers, things, including plants and animals, are my partners. This is the thought of China."

Han Qiao's eyes observed.

I am not afraid that Ji Xianlin will not agree with it, so there is no way. He said a lot, but in fact, it was all Ji Xianlin's own summary.

This wave.

He said, use your thoughts to make you agree with me, Han Qiao finished explaining.

In the ambulance, everyone's brows were soothing. After thinking about it, Han Qiao was right. This is what Chinese traditional culture is like.

Eyes admiration.

Han Qiao can talk freely in front of Ji Xianlin, a master of Chinese studies, without showing any timidity.

No other mentions.

This calmness and courage are far beyond that of most people in the entertainment industry.

Zhang Yimou's face was unbearable and he was itchy when he passed through his shoes.

Ji Xianlin admired his eyes and nodded: "Mr. Han, if you have such a cognition, the essence of Chinese studies is not far away, continue..."

In the eyes of many people.

Chinese studies may be countless words and countless books. In the eyes of Chinese studies masters, Chinese studies have transformed into a kind of thought.

Not only Chinese studies.

Any knowledge in the world, in the end, is a kind of thought, the so-called classics.

only.

Han Qiao may not understand Chinese studies as a tool to explain this kind of thought, but his thoughts and cognition have touched the essence of Chinese studies.

"harmonious."

Han Qiao said so much and extracted two words: "What we want to convey to the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games is harmony, not only to be harmonious with people, but also to be harmonious with nature, but also to be harmonious with people in their hearts."

"Not bad, not bad." Ji Xianlin admired his eyes: "Young Master Han, you are right. Harmony is a great gift from our Chinese nation to the world. If the whole world can accept our concept of harmony, then our global village can be much quieter."

After a pause, Ji Xianlin smiled and said, "My friend Han, you are the deputy director of the Olympic opening ceremony. I am looking forward to this opening ceremony. I look forward to people all over the world to see the Chinese philosophy we convey in this opening ceremony."

Say so much.

Mr. Ji was a little tired, and he was satisfied: "Director Zhang, with Xiaoyou Han here, I am a bad old man, and I have no place to use my skills."

Han Qiao's words.

Speaking of his heart, harmony is the essence of his life's study of Chinese studies and condensation.

if only.

Han Qiao is there, then it is equivalent to him. The spread of Chinese culture is never human, but the passing on from generation to generation.

"Old Ji..."

Zhang Yimou couldn't hold back anymore. No, I'll let Han Qiao get sloppy.

result.

Han Qiao took it directly?

What he wanted to say, Ji Xianlin shook his head and smiled and said, "Director Zhang, I have nothing more to say."

In the ambulance.

The little nurse and doctor have wide eyes and can stuff eggs into their mouths.

Ma Wenze's eyes were bright and he looked at Han Qiao.

Several people said goodbye, and Han Qiao was about to leave, and he was shameless: "Old Ji, I just took the book and found a diary. I think I am going to publish it. I want to ask Mr. Ji for personal favor."

"You said this?" Ji Xianlin had a good impression of Han Qiao. After taking a diary, he said, "My friend Han, these are the absurd things when I was young. When I was old, I wanted to give myself a thought. If you like it, I will give it to you today."

"Old Mr. Ji, can you sign an autograph?"

"No problem." Ji Xianlin responded to his request, picked up his pen, made a steady move, signed his name, and entrusted it to Han Qiao: "Little Friend Han, the Olympics is very important, and this matter must be done well!"

Ji Xianlin was born in 1911. It can be said that he witnessed the most embarrassing, miserable, difficult and darkest era in China.

All of this.

How difficult it is, no one can feel more deeply than him. One old and one young, the diary has become a bridge of communication, conveying the common wish of the two eras: "My friend Han must pass on harmony to the people of the world."

"Okay." Han Qiao looked solemn: "Old Mr. Ji, I will do my best to organize this opening ceremony."

PARKING LOT.

Several people watched the ambulance go away, and Han Qiao's heart was in a state of great difficulty and could not calm down for a long time.

Olympics, Olympics!

How many people are looking forward to you? He is thinking about it, and strength comes from his shoulders.

Ma Wen looked curious: "Han Qiao, why are you so amazing? Let me see what you do in your mind."

"What else can it be, protein." Han Qiao touched the diary, this was a private collection.

Nothing unique.

Ji Xianlin wrote a diary by hand. Let’s put it this way. If Han Qiao disagreed with the publication, the widely circulated diary of Ji Xianlin will be lost!

"Liar." Ma Wen rolled his eyes: "You said you have read Mr. Ji's diary, but I think you're just making up."

"Do you want to see?" Han Qiao signaled.

"Of course." Ma Wen looked respectful: "I must not miss Mr. Ji's masterpiece."

The two talked.

Zhang Yimou snatched out the cigarette. He usually didn't smoke, but today, it was too crazy. Zhang Yimou looked at Han Qiao for a while and had to say, "Han Qiao, you really opened my eyes."

"The knife cut the cow's butt?"

"What." Zhang Yimou didn't understand. After thinking about it, he patted Han Qiao's shoulder: "It's true that the knife cut the cow's butt and opened his eyes."

night.

Han Qiao did what he said, and celebration banquets were not missing. A few cars and people were pulled to the high-end guild hall in DC.

Ma Wen was reading the diary all the way, but when he arrived at the guild hall, he finally finished reading it.

After closing the book, thinking about it, he sighed: "Old Ji is worthy of being a master of Chinese studies, a true temperament, a true gentleman."

"Where is me?" Han Qiao heard it and asked, "I said I have the same life goals and hobbies as Mr. Ji, so I didn't brag."

"You." Ma Wen recalled the content of the book and spat: "Han Qiao, you are a real hooligan."

"Rogue." Han Qiao shrugged: "Twenty years later, who dares to say that I am not an old artist?"

Ma Wen thought about his face and nodded: "At that time, maybe, you are the true nature!"

……………………

Celebration banquet.

Han Qiao drank the most wine, and there was no way. This time the team was successful, and he made great contributions!

It can be said.

He had a decisive role, but Han Qiao was indifferent and drunk.

I was confused, my phone was vibrating, and Nokia phone was like a brick, and the banquet was noisy. Han Qiao went to takeaway to answer the phone: "Hello, I'm Han Qiao."

On the phone, a voice came: "Brother Han, I, Lao Gu."

"Brother Gu!" Han Qiao woke up in a panic. He looked around and said carefully, "Brother-in-law, what's wrong? What's wrong?"

"It's really a problem." On the phone, Lao Gu begged: "Brother Han, your sister-in-law called and said, "I'm going to give birth. Look at me, I'm not in Yanjing. I don't feel at ease if anyone else does this. Only if you go, I'll feel at ease."

"Is sister-in-law going to give birth?"

Han Qiao estimated that it was almost the same. In 2004, she sowed the seeds by himself. In 2005, in April, the seeds broke out. Han Qiao hesitated and said, "Brother-in-law, I have a baby. What's the matter if you don't come back? I can't do it."

"Brother Han, I'm, I can't take it off for a while, so I'll be relieved of you. I'm not at ease with the rest of the world." Lao Gu said: "Brother Han, you are the child's godfather, you must help me with this."

"Okay." Han Qiao said nothing: "Brother Gu, then you can come back as soon as possible."

Hang up the phone.

Han Qiao was worried that Jiang Wenli would say goodbye a little, apologize for a few glasses of wine, and take a taxi to the Central Academy of Drama in Haidian.

In the alley.

It was deserted at night, and Hanqiao knocked on the door. After a few minutes, the door opened.

A woman with purple figure leaned out her head, her eyes were charming and passionate, just like water. She saw Han Qiao, and her mouth was filled with a smile: "Han Qiao, you are here."

"Sister Xu."

Han Qiao nodded: "Sister Xu, please trouble you."

"Han Qiao, what you said is unreasonable." Xu Qing wore a purple cheongsam, her figure was full of curves, and her feminine style. Simply put, it was very moist!

He closed the door and said, "You and I are all here to help. If you want to say thank you, Lao Gu will say."

"Sister." Han Qiao said the wrong thing and asked for a supplement: "Isn't this? My godson is going to give birth, I'm in a hurry."

Xu Qing was a little angry: "You, a godfather, are more anxious than your own father. I think Lao Gu's temper has changed now. What's more important than having a wife for having children."

"The doctor said it was only two days." Xu Qing said, "You go and see her. I'll go to the kitchen to boil some hot water."

"OK."

Xu Qing and Jiang Wenli are best friends and are close to each other. Han Qiao is welcome and walks into the bedroom.

Jiang Wenli leaned against the head of the bed, peeling oranges to eat, her cheeks were round and smooth, and the pregnant young woman made every move and gesture, and the glory of her motherhood. Seeing Han Qiao, Jiang Wenli's eyes were filled with water, and her legs were tightened: "Here you come."

"Yes." Han Qiao walked over, looked at her belly, and touched her hands: "It's okay."

"It's okay." Jiang Wenli licked her lips with her tongue, and Fengbai pinched the orange with her fingers: "It's so sweet to taste this orange."

"How sweet it is." Han Qiao smiled with his lips, lowered his head, bit the orange, and then, he went up, and the orange juice splashed and flowed down the corner of his mouth. He greedily ate the orange meat, for a moment, nodded: "It's very sweet, with the smell of roses."

"The hot water is coming."

Door.

Xu Qing's voice came, and the two separated like lightning, and the topic came to an abrupt end.

Xu Qing held a basin of hot water in both hands, and the purple cheongsam was as smooth as silk, close to his body.

Seeing Jiang Wenji with his eyes, he was quite worried: "What's wrong? This is, his face is so red. Is there something uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Han Qiao, are you going out?" Xu Qing turned around and ordered: "I'll play with her to wipe her body."

"Okay." Han Qiao said, "I'll go and make a meal, the ambulance will be a little later."

"Just look at the arrangement." Xu Qing didn't think too much, pressed down and wiped the towel, and said, "You are going to give birth to a slut, and you still have so much tax..."

"how?"

"I can't help it when I see your good brother."

"What are you talking nonsense?" Jiang Wenli was embarrassed, her legs were closed together, and asked by a stranger: "Qing Mei'er, look at Han Qiao, you won't have a boyfriend yet, why don't I introduce him to you."

"Share?" Xu Qing's cheeks were covered in sweat, and he shouted with a bang: "Little Langduzi, I think someone wants to introduce it to him."

"Don't talk about me,"

"How about you?"

"You." Xu Qing thought about it seriously and shook his head: "I'm old, old, this kind of handsome guy, leave it to the young girls."

(End of this chapter)