That happened during Hiukawa's first monthly exam in his third year of high school... well, it was about ten years ago.
Ten years, more than three thousand six hundred days ago.
Chu Li was very surprised that someone could remember an event so long ago so clearly—including what the weather was like that day, what happened, who appeared, what those people said and did, and their faces at that time. The expression on his face... When the man told the story indifferently and calmly from the perspective of a bystander, Chu Li found that he seemed to be easily substituted into that story.
A really not too good story.
ten years ago.
At that time, Hiukawa, who was less than seventeen years old, was famous in high school because his father was a great writer. When students discussed him, they would always say: [That Hiukawa from Class 1, he Dad is a writer, super powerful.]
But that's all.
Because the next sentence that follows must be—
[Hey, then why didn't he inherit any of his father's genes? Composition is always so bad.]
That's it.
This young man named Hiukawa, whose father is a famous writer, happened to have scored more than 40 points in the essay project with a full score of 60 points in the two years after he first stepped into high school. — It’s not because he can’t write well, but when other students are writing argumentative essays according to the teacher’s “classic three-paragraph style”, as the number one student, Hiukawa stares at the sentence “except poetry The subject matter is not limited", frantically wrote fables of 800 characters one after another...
Because of this, his Chinese teacher had talked to him more than once, but each conversation was almost the same and in vain, for example—
Chinese teacher: "Ri Chuan, the class representative sued me again yesterday. You refused to recite the deeds of famous people and the deeds of this year's top ten people in China that I asked you to recite. What's the matter with you? Obviously it can be used... "
Hiukawa: "...I know I can't use it, so why am I wasting my time memorizing it?"
Chinese teacher: "What is a waste of time - take the last exam as an example! The idea of the composition of the last exam is 'the person with a strong heart can achieve consummation', you put good materials such as Edison, Yang Liwei, and Sima Qian. If you don’t write it, why are you writing that story again?!”
Hiukawa: "Start with parallelism, in the middle give examples of Edison, Yang Liwei, and Sima Qian, and then continue with the comparison at the end—are you talking about Edison, Yang Liwei, and Sima Qian?"
Chinese teacher: "..."
Chinese teacher: "I know you want to be innovative, but no matter how old-fashioned the deeds of celebrities are, that's better than making up your own stories! Like the top ten people who move China every year, they are all living classic positive characters selected from thousands of people. Isn't it better than The stories you make up are more lively—"
Hiukawa: "If it is destined that these famous people's deeds can only be randomly arranged and combined to apply, then the [subjects are not limited except poetry] written on the test paper is written to coax ghosts? Why not write [Only accept argumentative essays, please write Argumentative Papers]."
Chinese teacher: "..."
Chinese teacher: "How did you talk to the teacher! You speak well! Can I decide what is printed on the test paper? I can decide. I really want to print what you said!"
That atmosphere, not to mention printing the test paper, he even seemed to want to print this line of words on the forehead of the young man in front of him.
Hiukawa: "My short story has a beginning and an end, full of characters, no nonsense from the beginning to the end, and no excerpts from the composition paper... Is it better than your pile of stereotyped essays?"
"What stereotyped essay! Hiukawa! Stop talking nonsense! As long as you follow the routine, you can get a minimum of 43 or 4 points. Isn't it better than you are now?!" When the topic reaches this point, the Chinese teacher will always raise his voice , "Obviously, you can get more than 80 points out of 90 points in the language knowledge part, and you can easily get 134 points in the composition by writing casually. What's wrong with that! Why do you have to confront the teacher who corrected the papers? Do you still hope to meet a teacher who can appreciate your little stories during the college entrance examination? You have read too much chicken soup! I will still kill you—isn’t it all for your own good? Do you still remember the senior Jiang Yucheng I mentioned, who stepped on 200,000 people more than you?! You still have time to learn to write argumentative essays!"
"..."
"..."
"I see."
-I see.
Countless conversations ended with the boy's stubborn answer.
However, only Hiukawa's Chinese teacher knows that the boy's answer is still just perfunctory... because in the next exam, he will always spend those 40 to 50 minutes to write an 800-character essay that seems to fit the purpose of the exam question. The little story comes out—
Steady as a mountain, he continued to hold his 30 or so points, which were pitifully small, for the composition.
I also continue to dismiss the celebrity materials given by the teacher.
Of course, I will continue to respect the form of argumentative essays that are formatted and the scores that can be obtained are relatively stable.
—and don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with you at all.
The hairline of the Chinese teacher was a few millimeters raised by him. Before the onset of menopause, it is very hopeful to catch up and join the ranks of the glorious typical image of "Mediterranean teacher with glasses"...
And just when Hiukawa thought that his composition scores in his entire high school career "should be like this", a turning point suddenly appeared: the first monthly exam in the third year of senior high school, the simulated college entrance examination was sealed and ordered, and the grades of the papers were exchanged between arts and sciences classes. , under such circumstances, Hiukawa's short story composition actually got fifty-eight points, a super high score close to a full score, in the hands of the Chinese teacher in the liberal arts class next door!
For a time, the whole class was a sensation!
Even Hiukawa himself was a little confused.
After the monthly exam, the Chinese teacher in the liberal arts class next door deliberately asked Hiukawa to pass his papers. He read them carefully in the four liberal arts classes he took, and then took the time to make copies. All the students in the class had a copy and asked everyone to copy it. study well.
Total star treatment.
The last composition test paper went around for two or three days, and finally returned to Hiukawa—it was finally time for their Chinese class to explain the composition of the monthly exam... At that time, Hiukawa, who was still a teenager, looked at him with fifty-eight points If you say that you don't expect or even expect something to happen, it must be false.
... However, in the end, nothing happened—his Chinese teacher came to read all the excellent essays in the class with scores of 53 and 52, but he was the only one who read his first essay in the whole grade. Not a single word...
It was difficult for the young Hiukawa to articulate his thoughts at the time, perhaps because he was confused or hesitant, and a little "why" appeared in his heart-only then did he realize that even on the surface he disdained the teacher who was willing to teach argumentative essays At first glance, it turned out that he also wanted to be recognized in his heart.
However.
The first composition explanation class was regarded as transparent; in the second Chinese class in the same class, when everyone put away the test papers and started a new round of questions, Hiukawa watched his Chinese teacher walk to his desk step by step Before, picked up his composition test paper, read it carefully, and then put it down—
He laughed.
Hiukawa probably remembered all his life that when he was sitting in the first row, by the window, the teacher stood under the window and gave him a fluffy smile, and said with a smile: "Hey, I don't think so much, I Seeing that your writing is not that good, why did you score fifty-eight?"
His voice was neither high nor low, but it was loud enough to be heard clearly in every corner of the classroom, which was quiet and immersed in the problem. Some students stopped writing and looked up in surprise...
And for the boy Hirokawa—
that moment.
anger.
disappointment.
Speechless and the embarrassment that seemed to be humiliated, all came up.
"You can deduct 10 points or even 20 points, I don't care at all." The young man stubbornly - and for the first time, took his composition test paper out of his Chinese teacher's hand with almost rude movements When he came back, he stuffed them into a desk drawer in a lump. He gritted his teeth and emphasized again, "Anyway, no matter how many points you score, it's all the same. How will it affect my overall score?"
In that monthly exam, the super-scholar Hiukawa ranked first in the whole year with a total score of 25 points behind the second place... That was also the last time he and his Chinese teacher had a discussion about composition.
Chu Li raised his hand: "Memory killing, pause, teacher, I have a question: Under such circumstances, it is hard to imagine that Mr. Zhou Guxuan, as a literati, would be indifferent to this situation... Precisely because he is a literary creator, There are basic judgments about whether an article is good or bad, why didn't you go to school for you to educate the Chinese teacher at that time?"
At the end of the first ceremony, I immediately saw Zhou Chuan showing a personal mocking expression: "What a good question - why do you think the relationship between the father and son of the Zhou family is 'harmonious' and the whole literary world knows it?... Don't pretend, I don't believe you. I heard something from Lao Miao or Yu Yao, if my old man was the one who would stand by me at that time... "
The man paused, and at this time the two of them walked to a nearby park, and there were old men and women dancing square dances in the square... The harmonious and cheerful atmosphere formed a stark black and white contrast with the indifference on the man's face.
Hiukawa sat down on the edge of the flower bed, the wind blew and brought the familiar fragrance of evening flowers, his voice was almost blown away in the cool evening wind—
"Sometimes I think, maybe a genius student who is well-behaved, my Chinese teacher has been talking about it for a few years after graduation and has never scored 55 points in composition, and a genius writer Jiang Yu who is always catering to the tastes of most people. Sincerity, it is more suitable to be the son of my old man."
Chu Li looked up at Hiukawa blankly.
Hiukawa: "My friend's story is not over yet, and the worst is yet to come."
Chuli: "???"
Damn it's not over yet? !
Fuck, is there anything worse? !
it's not good? …
As Hikawa said, the whole story is not over yet.
If you look at the memories of your life before you die in the future, if you want to rank these fragmentary fragments in the top three of "the most tragic day", it is nothing more than being ridiculed by the Chinese teacher at school during the day, "I think your writing is also good. Not so good" that day will definitely have the strength to compete for a wave—
Because things didn't end because of the mildew that happened during the day.
When Hiukawa came home in the evening, he realized that the Chinese teacher had already communicated with Hiukawa's parents about the fact that Hiukawa's composition would always be non-mainstream: the reason was that he was worried that the high score in composition this time would make Hiukawa feel a sense of anxiety. The illusion of "it's really possible to write like this", and then make mistakes again and again.
So, the boy went home from evening self-study and didn't even have time to drink a sip of water. He was called into his father's study and asked why he couldn't write the composition according to the teacher's request and the most beneficial way for the exam.
Zhou Guxuan, this old man, has a very loud voice, and Zhou Chuan guessed that this is probably the reason why the study room was required to have a good sound insulation effect during the renovation—not to prevent people inside from being disturbed, but to prevent people outside from overhearing...
"Your teacher talks about the son of Lao Jiang's family next door all day long. Don't think that he is much better than you. In terms of writing skills, how much worse can my son Gu Xuan's son be than him?! But he is a regular Writing argumentative papers in a proper manner, relying on writing to get a high score, others can, why do you insist on taking the edge?!"
"Your Chinese teacher asked you to memorize composition materials, but you don't memorize the whole class—you come here, come here, and I'll see if you have spines with spines or scales!"
"Do you know that your Chinese teacher is very difficult to do? Some students asked him: Teacher Zhou Chuan's composition is so poor that he can not memorize the materials. Why do we have to memorize?"
"I'm embarrassed for you! A literati is proud, you are not a literati! Where is your arrogance?!"
Hirokawa didn't speak at that time, he had already answered similar questions hundreds of times, and his ears grew callused when he heard similar questions—
At this time, he made an action that he would never do if he had a Doraemon time machine and had another chance: his wandering eyes finally stopped on a stack of books on his father's study desk. On the manuscripts—the color of those manuscripts has even turned yellow, from the neat font on the top, to the messy ones in the middle, and then to the neat ones...
A thick stack.
If the calculation is based on 300 to 400 characters per sheet of paper, then such a stack of papers should be conservatively estimated to have about 100,000 to 200,000 characters... This is Hiukawa’s handwritten manuscript, the first novel’s manuscript—from the first year of high school At the beginning, in the era when electronic equipment was not so developed, and some magazines submitted manuscripts by hand, the teenager used his spare time such as recess, physical education class, and Chinese class to write the handwritten manuscript of his first novel word by word with a pen .
About three days ago, he handed them over to his father for a look.
At this time, he probably noticed the young man's gaze, so Gu Xuan stopped his lecture, picked up the manuscripts, and threw them in front of the young man standing on the other side of the desk: "I read half of these manuscripts and then I didn't read them. Scattered and unconstrained, the most important thing is that the male protagonist has no great ideals other than finding his own scabbard and the whereabouts of his father, and lacks practical educational significance—”
The young man watched the neatly stacked manuscript papers fly apart, and some of them fell to the ground.
"If you have time to write such meaningless things, why not think about how to write high-scoring essays that are formatted and trainable for exam-oriented education—it's hard to imagine that you spent time on this kind of stuff in the past few years... What is the meaning of literary creation? What is the purpose? What can readers get when they read? What can they learn? Your things may be sold, but they will always be positioned as "commodities"—"
The boy bent down to pick up the manuscript paper that fell on the ground.
"This kind of novels that are only for entertainment and entertainment can never be called 'literature'." Zhou Guxuan's voice sounded very firm and disgusted, "If you want to write something, just write well. After the college entrance examination, I can even teach you how to write correctly. , but don't waste your time and energy on such meaningless things now."
Boy: "..."
No one can bear the loss of being continuously disappointed twice a day with full expectations.
That conversation ended with Hiu Chuan grabbing his handwritten novel with more than 100,000 words, burning half of it on the spot and tearing up the other half. Great branches arose—
after.
Hiukawa never showed his father what he wrote again.
Hiukawa never listened to the Chinese teacher's lectures in Chinese class again.
And following the third year of senior high school, there were countless frequent monthly exams. With the approval of other teachers in the language group, Hiukawa's essays in the form of short stories never fell below 53 points...
I heard that every monthly exam composition correction is a small storm, and the center of the storm is a "problem boy" named "Ri Chuan" - the relationship between colleagues in the entire third-year language group became a little tense because of him...
Especially the Chinese teacher in the liberal arts class next door, seeing him is like meeting his own son. When they graduate, the little girl in the liberal arts class will have a copy of "Hikawa Composition Collection", and the initial fan group has begun to take shape— As an author who has never signed a book or published it in front of readers, the biography "Hi Chuan writes well and is handsome" is probably spread by these old backbones.
After that is the college entrance examination.
When Hiukawa knew that he had chosen a wrong multiple-choice question in the language knowledge part when he left the examination room, he scored 147 points in the final score of the college entrance examination—this means that he was in the final battle of his entire middle school career. In the middle of the exam, I got a perfect score for the composition!
Maybe he was lucky, the "chicken soup that would never appear" that his Chinese teacher said at the beginning really appeared... When he returned to school after the college entrance examination to get the score slip, he personally took his own score slip from the Chinese teacher, Facing the wistful smile of the Chinese teacher, he asked him jokingly, "Did I get full marks only after compromising and writing argumentative papers in the college entrance examination?" He laughed, took the score slip, turned and left.
This is where the story really ends.
There is no such thing as a boy's counterattack, and there is no such thing as a teacher being slapped in the face and a boy apologizing—
Looking at the overall situation, it seems that there is no real winner in the whole story.
When the man reminded the Liger that "it's over" with a calm voice, Chu Li was still immersed in shock and couldn't extricate himself - the amount of information in her head almost flushed out all the wrinkles in her brain... She stared at Hiukawa dumbfounded, I feel like I should comfort him.
But when the words of comfort came to my lips, looking at the super calm face of the other party, I couldn't speak... Finally, I had to smile awkwardly: "No, you were cruel enough to yourself when you were young, handwritten with hundreds of thousands of words The manuscript burns as soon as it says—"
Hiukawa turned his head and gave Chuli a blank expression.
Chu Li was taken aback for a moment, then suddenly remembered something, and the embarrassment on her face suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and raised her hand to pat Hiukawa on the back: "Hey, I was almost fooled by you! The young genius writer Hiukawa Shiqi You made your debut with the book "Oriental Charming Records" at the age of 20 - according to the timeline of the story you told, it happened that you burned the front and back of your first handwritten novel, and even burned the wool you took to become famous? ? ??"
"..."
The man changed his sitting position.
With one long leg, Erlang raised his leg.
He raised his jaw slightly, showing a lazy expression: "What are those media bragging about? A talented young writer writes well for the first time, and his words are accurate as if he has many years of writing experience, blah blah... Why don't you think about it?"
Chu Li blinked, his hands still on the man's back.
The man's eyes were heavy, but his tone was calm and breezy: "Because "Oriental Charming Records" is not the first novel I wrote at all."
Hatsuri's hand on the man's back froze—
At this time, she saw the man turn his head. In the dark night, he raised the corners of his lips and showed his neat white teeth to her: "Guess why you were the editor in charge of "Luohe Divine Book" in the end?"
Chu Li: "...Why? Isn't it because I signed this book—"
Hiukawa: "[What's more, Xiaoniao and my old Miao have always been fans of the teacher. They have especially admired you since the teacher's debut work "Oriental Stories".]"
Chuli: "????"
Hiukawa: "[Sometimes I think about it, when I was seventeen years old, my first work showed its prominence, and I was called the most promising juvenile writer. At the age of nineteen, I have already published three works. At such a young age Joining the Provincial Writers Association, there will be successors in the scholarly family... Teacher, are you a genius!]”
First ceremony: "..."
Chu Li silently removed the hand on the man's back.
Hiukawa: "My most annoying thing to hear is that Lao Miao said everything within ten seconds."
First ceremony: "..."
Hiukawa: "So, I can only ask him to die."
First Ritual: "………………"
Can.
To this day, Lao Miao, you are not dead without understanding.
You're just... well, the villain dies of talking too much.
Really, to borrow an actor's words: Miaozai, you deserve it.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!