No one in the chat group took Zuo Ziliang's words of "don't reply received" seriously and kept replying "received"; but everyone generally took Wang Zixu seriously, and many people responded with "little prince".

Uproot the baobab tree", send two emoticons of "Kneel down, boss", or directly send greetings.

Wang Zixu kept staring at the chat group. He didn't reply to all the people who liked him. It's not that he was arrogant, he didn't know how to reply.

In the past 30 years of his life experience, the total number of times he was hit by Aite was not as many as today. When people in the group called him "big brother", he felt like he was sweating profusely, and his clothes seemed to be made of cactus skin, faintly

There are thorns on the back.

When his wife came home and took off her shoes in the hall, she saw him sitting in front of the computer with his mobile phone in his hand, and she came over and asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you going to write a novel today?"

Wang Zixu was startled and subconsciously said: "Don't write it."

The wife smiled, put her hair behind her ears with her fingers, and said, "Would you like to take a day off? I'm still preparing for pregnancy."

Wang Zixu looked down and saw that his wife was still wearing black stockings on her legs and fluffy slippers on her feet. When he came to his senses, he quickly said:

"Write, I'm still writing today, I was in a daze just now."

His wife kissed him on the forehead with her moist lips: "You have no inspiration, right? It's okay. It's okay to take a day off occasionally. It's normal to have no inspiration."

The prince nodded blankly, and his wife added: "By the way, I also met a writer today, Lin Feng from the tax bureau. I heard he is very famous and often publishes articles in magazines. I also mentioned you to him."

Wang Zixu was startled and said, "What did you say?"

The wife asked: "Do you know Lin Feng?"

Wang Zixu said: "I've heard of it."

Wang Zixu asked again: "How did you see him? What did he say?"

The wife said: "Oh, he came to my shop to buy flowers and said he was engaged in literature. This serious writer is different. He talks in one way and I can't even learn it. I said my husband does the same.

People who engage in literature often publish articles in magazines. He asked which magazine they were in, and I said I didn’t know, and I’ll ask you when I get back.”

The wife came over and hugged his hand and said, "Honey, which magazine are you publishing articles in?"

Hearing this question, Wang Zixu broke out in a cold sweat and did not dare to speak. Several concepts such as lectures, Lin Feng, and Freud were swirling around in his mind, and he was speechless for a moment.

His wife hit him with her arm and said, "Huh? Let me ask you a question, which magazine do you mainly publish in?"

Wang Zixu was stunned for a long time, and finally said, "It's hard to say."

The wife said: "What's not good to say? Speaking of which, it seems that you have never told me which magazine you were published in. Wang Zixu, are you hiding something from me?"

Although his wife did not understand his inner world, she understood his behavioral patterns very well. Wang Zixu felt his back was soaked with cold sweat, and it took him a long time to meet his wife's gaze and speak:

"You don't understand that among literati, sometimes it's better to hide a little something, but it's not good to confess too much..."

The wife tilted her head: "Why? What's wrong?"

"Literati look down on each other, you know." Wang Zixu said bravely, "Sometimes when you have just started to make some progress, others are jealous of you and try to get in your way behind your back, and you don't even know how you fell down."

The wife was confused: "Isn't it just to write an article? As for that? I don't think Lin Feng is this kind of person?"

Wang Zixu said: "How do you know what kind of person he is? You only met him once today, how do you know what he is like behind the scenes?"

The wife said: "Zizixu, don't think too badly of me. I am a serious writer who has been writing for many years. Whether I can like you or not is up to me. What's more, I am not doing you any good. You

If you communicate more with others, maybe you can find more ways to go?"

Wang Zixu wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. Although he was unhappy that his wife looked down upon others and looked down upon him, unfortunately, she was right. He, a person who helped people flirt with others on social media, faced the real situation.

Writer, I really can’t hold my head up.

As the wife talked, she felt aggrieved and had some tears in her eyes. She said, "You are always like this. You never want to make more friends. You always bury your head and write alone. No one knows what use you are.

Ah? You are just too arrogant. How about I help you connect and talk to Lin Feng? Why can't you let go of your little face? "

Wang Zixu blushed and said, "How can I not lose my dignity? What's wrong with me burying my head in writing? Writing is inherently a lonely struggle. The only one I can rely on is myself. Is it useful to make friends? Writing well means writing

If you are good but your writing is not good, it is useless to find ten thousand people to praise you. If your virtue is not up to par, you will fall sooner or later... Stop talking, you don't understand literature."

The wife said: "Yes! I don't understand! You are the only one who understands! You understand so much! You have been writing for several years, but you don't even dare to publish the article anywhere! You are so courageous! Wang Zixu, just continue to be arrogant.

Bar!"

After saying that, his wife slammed the door and left. Wang Zixu sat down and gasped for air. It took him a long time to calm down. He picked up his phone and saw that Zuo Ziliang had sent him more than a dozen unread messages.

It was already the scheduled time for the lecture. Zuo Ziliang silenced the entire group. Now the group was completely silent. However, Wang Zixu was arguing just now and no one was there yet. Zuo Ziliang said twice in the group to ask everyone to wait.

.

He quickly turned on his computer and began to reply to Zuo Ziliang's message:

[Something happened just now, so I’m a little late. Sorry.]

Zuo Ziliang said: [It’s okay, if you don’t have time, it doesn’t matter if we change the time to talk again.]

Wang Zixu said: [No need, I’ve already finished my work here.]

After typing this line, he ran to the bedroom and pushed the door open, only to find that his wife had locked the door. She did this every time they quarreled. He could only sleep on the sofa tonight. But on the plus side, he didn't have to hide it when he gave a lecture later.

I'm obsessed with her. She won't come out today except to go to the toilet.

Zuo Ziliang said: [Then start when you are ready.]

Wang Zixu took a deep breath and opened the group chat.

Facing a blank screen at first, he didn't know what to say. He was in a daze for a long time before he started typing the next line of words on the screen.

Immediately, his desire for expression was like a hole in the dam opening, and floodwater poured out.

He began to talk about his understanding of literature, how he viewed creation, and how he integrated traditional literature into scripts. Gradually, the quarrel with his wife just now was forgotten by him.

He talked about how his imagination worked when he created the script. In fact, he created the entire script based on his imagination, and then used the basic theory of story construction to lay a solid foundation and set up a framework for the script.

First, he will set up a main conflict. This conflict does not refer to the conflict between the male and female protagonists, but a philosophical conflict, such as love and sex, freedom and morality, poverty and wealth. He will choose one as the ""character" of the script.

Motif", and then start imagining around this motif.

A conflict that cannot be easily resolved can provide a steady stream of tension to the story. When he wrote the script about "a colleague cheating on someone in the workplace", he designed a conflict between the male and female protagonists with the theme of "love and sex", with sex and without love.

The male protagonist is always immersed in self-struggle as a lover and a loving but non-sexual first wife.

Of course, these contents are not directly described. They are just the background of the entire script, which is the iceberg hidden under the sea. All the plots are hidden in the language. The characters he wrote in the script have their own roles and character arcs.

He will express his own life experience and understanding of the world with sketchy lines and foggy dialogue details.

At the same time, he not only builds the image of "himself", but also deliberately outlines the image of the other person in the conversation. A woman is an animal made of water. The so-called water means that she can become anything. As for the final

How, it can be controlled and guided.

He will deliberately guide and manipulate the other party in the script, so that the other party gradually puts down his guard and accepts the manipulation. Of course, the tone must be beautiful and bright. He believes that no matter how indulgent the surface is, it also needs a positive foundation.

To set the tone, because he believes that human beings are essentially animals whose positivity outweighs their negativity.

All in all, the final result is that at the end of the chat, both parties will vaguely touch the virtual counterpart and achieve spiritual resonance. In the eyes of the woman, the speech therapist is still calm and firm, like a tower floating on the water.

On the iceberg, they will still indulge in this fate and still have unfulfilled feelings.

These ideas were realized when he was studying Hemingway's "Iceberg Theory". Only one-eighth of an iceberg is always exposed above the water, and most of it is hidden underwater. This is reflected in his creations, which is that less is more.

Leaving blank space to hint to the reader is more impactful than writing it directly.

Therefore, if he really wanted to thank someone, he felt that he should thank Hemingway, a real tough guy and a genius writer.

While Wang Zixu was lecturing, the late-night snacks at the barbecue stall were still going on. Huang Da was watching very attentively. He kept chewing his fingers and reading every word of Zizixu's words repeatedly. His brain waves seemed to be racing on the highway.

The lecture was over and it was about to enter the question and answer session. His brain relaxed a little, and he looked around and asked, "What do you think?"

A colleague answered his question with a question:
Chapter completed!