But it was the girl with the wavy hair who finally broke through the prince's virtual defense line with an indifferent remark: "Among the people you mentioned, I've heard of Milan Kundera, but isn't he already dead?"

Wang Zixu was stunned on the spot: "When did it happen?"

"It just happened not long ago. There was a lot of news at that time, didn't you know?"

Wang Zixu quickly started searching. In the past few months, he had been busy creating at home and did not watch the news at all. After searching for the news of "Milan Kundera's death", he put his head in his hands and stayed there for a long time.

Then, he said in despair: "Have you finished asking?"

"Well, it's over."

Wang Zixu took his leave. As soon as Fu left, a heated discussion broke out among the three girls:

"Does he really understand or is he just bragging?"

"I don't know, I'm only a sophomore, you ask me?"

"Tie Wenqing...no, Wenzhong. A middle-aged literary man."

"Oh, why are there so many weirdos in the Chinese department?"

"I don't blame you for not remembering it."

"Oh, I don't think you need to care so much. You can tell that you love literature and come here with dreams. I don't think you need to laugh at them."

They didn't have any objections to Wang Zixu, they simply evaluated his worth and value with a critical eye, and then found it difficult to compare this 30-year-old driving a Xiaomi Su7 to Nantah University to take the postgraduate entrance examination in the Chinese Department (or cross-examination)

People fit into any existing social framework, so they feel confused.

Wang Zixu's confusion is a kind of life crisis: Milan Kundera also died, and he failed to win the Nobel Prize for Literature after all.

Before that, Philip Roth was dead.

Soon, Thomas Pynchon is going to die, Don DeLillo is going to die, Seth Noteboom is going to die, Adonis is going to die, and the younger one, maybe Haruki Murakami is also on the agenda.

Are they the only great writers who died before winning the prize? Calvino didn't win the prize either. Who knew he would die so early?

Borges didn't win the prize either. Who should I ask to explain this?

Camus did win the prize. He won the prize at the age of forty-four, and then he died at the age of forty-seven. It was almost as if his life was short-lived, so the prize was given to him in advance.

If Camus had not died and the Nobel Prize had been awarded to Calvino earlier, would history have changed?

If even those people couldn't win this award, could he really do it?

Wang Zixu raised his head and looked at the new library of NTU. The sun shone on the blue glass curtain wall, reflecting dazzling light.

Will the world remember that he was here?

…I don’t know whether he will remember it, but in short, he can’t remember where Chongwen Tower is.

Wang Zixu turned around, found the three girls, and asked in a low voice: "Do you know where Chongwen Building is?"

"Go straight from the front, turn left, and go in front of the second row of houses..."

The three girls were quite enthusiastic. After chatting for a while, the girl with the wavy hair said:

"Forget it, let's take you there."

Wang Zixu suddenly felt flattered.

This is another difference between Wang Zixu’s students back then and now: today’s students are more confident than they were then, and are more keen to meddle in other people’s own affairs, so for some conflicts, they can just put it aside and get rid of it.

One yard.

Only then did Wang Zixu notice the more specific parts of the three girls. For example, the girl with long eyelashes wore slightly thicker makeup than the other two, and the girl with polka-dot clothes wore looser clothes. Perhaps it was to cover up her breasts and waves.

The girl on the head has plump lips and hair highlights.

No matter what, girls of this age are always beautiful, no matter how they dress up. You may not realize it if you have been around for a long time. For example, when Wang Zixu was in school, he never felt anything about the appearance of the girls around him, but now he is thirty years old.

When my old body came here, I suddenly discovered the beauty of a young and energetic body.

The young men led Wang Zixu through the path to the dormitory downstairs. He saw a large group of people gathered on the lawn between the dormitory buildings. The girl with the wavy hair suddenly dropped her face:

"Why are you still there?"

Wang Zixu pointed out curiously: "What are you doing?"

"Confess your love? Can't you see it?"

When Wang Zixu looked around, he felt that there was a huge crowd of people, and he didn't know what they were doing in the middle. Some people were shouting, and some were making noises. His long-standing memories were awakened.

"I've been doing this all morning! Why doesn't Du Kezhu come out? Even if you give me a word to make people die, it's good."

The girl in the polka-dot clothes sounded quite dissatisfied, and seemed to have a problem with the girl named "Dukezhu".

"That is to say, just tell me if you agree or disagree. If you are stuck here like this, you can't even walk."

The girl with long eyelashes blinked and said, "You can't blame Zhuzhu, it's not like she asked people to come over to confess their love. She is also very annoyed when someone confesses to her every two days."

"Then who asked her to show off herself? She drives a Mercedes-Benz E series to school. Who doesn't know that her family is the second generation of rich people?"

"Isn't it? I heard that she is not a rich second generation. She starts her own business outside and makes all her money."

"No, didn't you say she writes novels?"

The three girls looked at each other, and the girl with the wavy hair finally complained: "What is Feng Ao astronomy? One of you, give her a call and ask her to come down and take care of it."

Wang Zixu held out his watch and wanted to say that it was getting late, so I would say goodbye first. Then he heard the girl with long eyelashes beside him faintly say: "No need to call, she has already come down."

Then, Wang Zixu saw a head of green hair floating in the crowd, and the crowd parted like Moses parting the sea.

After he saw the green-haired girl's face clearly, he laughed dumbly, what Du Kezhu, what Feng Aotian.

Isn't this a sinless poet?

Then, without stopping, the poet rushed towards Wang Zixu quickly, as if he had already expected him to be here. In the surprised eyes of the three girls, a hand clamped around his arm like a steel pliers.

"Walk."

"Where to go?" Wang Zixu panicked.

"Anyway, let's go first." The poet lowered his head and didn't look at him at all, "Besides, now he is no longer a sinless poet, but now a poet of eternal sin."
Chapter completed!