An extraordinary life journey through old Beijing courtyard houses

Chapter 200 Self-Justification (Part Two)

Hu Hongjun and Lao Zhu both looked at him with extremely strange eyes—are you taking us for fools?

How could someone possibly write "My Motherland and I" through self-study?

Only Qin Huairu was unaware of the implications and remained infatuated.

Jiang Baobin shrugged, as if to say, "Believe it or not, it's up to you."

Hu Hongjun and Lao Zhu looked at each other, their brows furrowing.

They clearly had extreme doubts about Jiang Baobin's statement.

At this moment, every cadre was on edge, with thoughts of lurking enemies, spies, and people with ulterior motives flooding their minds.

Jiang Baobin had actually anticipated this, and after racking his brains, he came up with a solution.

This guy pointed to Hu Hongjun's notebook: "Reporter Hu, pick an article."

"It can be challenging, but it shouldn't involve any secrets; it should be the kind of article that everyone can read."

Although Hu Hongjun was puzzled, he did as instructed.

I handed him a draft of an article that had already been published.

Jiang Baobin flipped through it casually, then read it again from the beginning.

It only took about five minutes in total.

He then returned the interview transcript to her, smiling, and said, "Now I'll recite it from memory, and you can check if there are any mistakes."

Hu Hongjun suddenly realized that this was a live demonstration of his talent to dispel his doubts.

I'll take a look then; I'm quite curious myself.

Jiang Baobin then recited aloud: "Since entering the third quarter..."

"The city's industrial production has been greatly restored and strengthened —"

Hu Hongjun's eyes widened as he listened, knowing that the article contained a lot of professional terms and data.

It is, compared to classical Chinese, very difficult to memorize.

However, he memorized the entire text from beginning to end, more than 2,300 words, without making a single mistake!

Good heavens! How is this possible?

Out of curiosity, Lao Zhu had already gone to Hu Hongjun's side to take the exam together.

I was naturally shocked – there really are geniuses in the world! I've truly had my eyes opened today!

Not to be outdone, Qin Huairu also went to see.

But I only saw a lonely view.

Sister Qin secretly pinched herself—how infuriating! She forgot that she couldn't read.

After memorizing the article, the two reporters' doubts vanished.

That goes without saying, given his extraordinary memory.

Want to learn something? It's as easy as Zhang Fei eating bean sprouts.

Jiang Baobin felt smug: Little brat, trying to mess with me?

I already put all 5 points + 10 points of "freely distributable attributes" that the system rewarded into "Intelligence"!

It has now reached a staggering 36 points! That's three and a half times the average person's!

Using this method to memorize a short article will be a breeze, won't it?

This guy really took a huge gamble, wanting to stay in the rear even if he was sent to the battlefield!

With the misunderstanding cleared up, the atmosphere of the interview became lively again.

It was even more intense than before.

After all, you can always find good songwriters, but geniuses are rare.

Just then, Qin Ma came over to call for help.

The drinking party over there had already ended, so naturally we had to invite them back.

This family has already gone through enough trouble; it's time to let them get some sleep.

Back at the Qin family home, he inevitably had to exchange pleasantries with a bunch of drunkards.

Several individuals, especially those who considered themselves important, repeatedly apologized to the reporters, saying they had not been well received.

Jiang Baobin, listening from the side, could only laugh.

You've already eaten and drunk all that food and drink, and now you're only thinking of apologizing?

All I can say is that they were still very simple and honest in 1950.

After a few years of exposure and learning, he will never be so naive again.

Because Qin's parents were very hospitable.

They were making sugar water and handing out tobacco leaves.

So both sides tacitly agreed to gossip as much as possible.

Hu Hongjun asked with a smile, "Author Jiang, do you know about the songs you wrote?"

"You're so popular right now, so you're hiding here for some peace and quiet?"

Jiang Baobin certainly couldn't admit it, otherwise wouldn't he be just trying to gain fame and reputation?

"No, no, actually I've wanted to come and help with the autumn harvest for a long time."

"I couldn't go because I definitely wanted to witness the grand occasion of the first anniversary of the founding of the nation."

"I took my wife to watch the ceremony yesterday, and we came back early this morning."

"I always feel that to write good works, you must have life experience."

"It's not enough to just stay cooped up in the city; it's best to experience the beautiful landscapes of our motherland."

"Of course, it's also quite nice to participate in a labor activity as we are doing now."

Hu Hongjun asked with a smile, "So, do you think it's better to travel all over the mountains and rivers like Li Bai?"

"Is it better to be like Tao Yuanming, 'picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, gazing leisurely at the southern mountains'?"

"Of course, it's best to travel all over the country, especially with the rapid changes happening every day."

"Would you put it into practice?"

Jiang Baobin boasted shamelessly, "Of course, I will swim in the Yellow River, the Yangtze River, the East China Sea, and the South China Sea."

"The Tianshan Mountains, Kunlun Mountains, Mount Everest, and Tanggula Mountains are all on my list of destinations."

Old Zhu praised, "Excellent! That's spirited!"

Jiang Baobin felt that continuing the conversation would be a waste of time, so he gave Qin Huairu a wink.

The girl understood, and called to her parents and her younger siblings who were listening with great interest, and went out to find a place to stay.

It would be good to leave the room for Jiang Baobin and the others to discuss serious matters.

With the house quiet, Jiang Baobin stopped hiding things and took out two manuscripts.

One is the original manuscript, and the other is a copy made with carbon paper.

"My People, My Country" is a thing of the past; this is his current goal.

Old Zhu asked, "What's this?"

"To be honest, since August 27th, when Anton was bombed by the United States."

"The innocent deaths of three of my compatriots have filled me with righteous indignation, keeping me awake at night!"

"Therefore, Meng Sheng wrote this book to expose the ugly face of the United States."

"But I am not very knowledgeable and my skills are all self-taught. I am afraid that if I write it down, people will laugh at me."

"Therefore, I would be extremely grateful if you two could offer some guidance."

Old Zhu laughed and said, "You've come to the wrong person if you're asking me for advice."

"I'm just someone who fiddles with the camera; the real pen-wielder is Reporter Hu."

Hu Hongjun quickly said modestly, "What am I? I just wrote a few short pieces."

"I wouldn't dare to presume to speak to author Jiang, but I can recommend you to a publisher."

"How about it? Do you think it's okay?"

Jiang Baobin certainly wanted to express his gratitude.

Hu Hongjun, who had originally intended to read the book with great enthusiasm, finished it as quickly as possible.

At this moment, only two words can describe my disappointment.

Aside from the intense emotional portrayal, there's nothing new in the book.

It could even be said that they are simply parroting others' ideas.

Compared to the groundbreaking "My People, My Country".

The manuscript in her hand felt like a chicken bone to her.

As time goes by, "My People, My Country" will become a timeless masterpiece.

"The Ugly Old Rice" is destined to be buried.

Jiang Baobin certainly knew what kind of trash he was writing.

But he never even considered winning the Nobel Prize.

So I don't care if I'm called trash.

People like Hu Hongjun who are used to eating refined grains.

He stuffed coarse chaff into her mouth, no wonder she wouldn't like him?

Just like the works of a certain flop author.

As soon as a paid chapter is released, readers turn around and leave, thinking it's not worth a single penny.

But there are also supporters who have always stood by me and encouraged me with their votes.

This is what it means to have discerning taste! It has reached or even surpassed the level of Guiguzi!

Next, Hu Hongjun continued his interviews.

There is also a lot of information about his personal life, including his works.

Hu Hongjun was increasingly surprised by the questions he asked, because it was truly inspiring.

She had a strong feeling that the sensation caused by her interview article might not be less than that caused by "My People, My Country".

Old Zhu, however, was engrossed in Jiang Baobin's "Rough Bran" and meticulously read the entire book.

The interview ended close to midnight.

The waiting in the outer room kept Qin Huairu and her mother so awake that they were dozing off.

They have to take Hu Hongjun away; they can't let her sleep with several men.

Jiang Baobin was originally going to give him a ride, but the driver, who had been keeping a low profile, stepped forward.

People said it was his duty, so Jiang Baobin naturally didn't argue anymore.

Otherwise, you'll only make things worse by flattering someone.

There were only two people left in the room. Old Zhu quickly washed up and crawled into bed.

They're obviously experienced—they fall asleep as soon as they lie down and pee as soon as they wake up.

It will not delay the march or the battle.

Just when Jiang Baobin thought that was the end of it.

Old Zhu spoke up, "Little Jiang, how about I recommend your manuscript?"

"Great! Thank you so much!"

"Xiao Jiang, you said you're eighteen?"

"Yes, one year old."

Old Zhu remarked with admiration, "The younger generation is truly formidable!"

After a pause, he added, "Young people shouldn't be in such a hurry."

Jiang Baobin awaits the next installment.

However, Old Zhu remained silent.

After a long while, Jiang Baobin finally couldn't help but ask, "Reporter Zhu, that driver—"

Old Zhu mumbled, "Don't worry about him."

Jiang Baobin thought for a moment before realizing, "That person will continue to protect Hu Hongjun and won't come back to sleep—"