1985, the year of the great writer, began with Infernal Affairs!

Hearing this, He Jinqiu was stunned for a moment.

Attorney Xie?

Is he also preparing?

He Chongshan continued, "Shaoyuan called a couple of days ago and said that Xie Lu had just finished writing the prequel and was now focused on this essay contest. Dean Zhou had high expectations for him and thought he could win an award."

He Jinqiu didn't speak, her chopsticks hovering in mid-air.

Xie Lu is preparing for that essay contest.

This morning she was still thinking about how big the gap was between her and him.

Now that's great, we have a chance to compete.

She suddenly had an idea.

I'm not trying to prove anything, I just want to give it a try.

She should look at what she has written and compare it with others to see where she falls short. She should at least understand why she lost.

Seeing that she didn't speak, He Chongshan asked, "What's wrong?"

He Jinqiu shook her head: "It's nothing."

She lowered her head and continued eating, but she had already made up her mind.

participate.

Participation is mandatory.

She wanted to see just how capable this boy, who was two years younger than her, really was.

Wuhan University.

In the corridor of the Faculty of Arts, sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting long patches of light on the floor.

Classes haven't started yet, and students occasionally walk by in the corridor.

Li Shu came out of counselor Wang Zhiguo's office with several sheets of paper in her hand.

The top one is the registration form, and several names have already been filled in.

A few days ago, Teacher Wang mentioned this essay contest during a class meeting. She said it was a national contest with the theme of changing rural life, and those who were interested could sign up.

There was a buzz of discussion, with some asking if there was a prize, others asking if participation was mandatory, but when it came time to actually register, there were very few people.

Li Shu looked at the registration form in her hand. There were forty people in the class, and only two had registered so far.

One of hers.

A lawyer named Xie.

As she walked towards the classroom, she thought about how she would need Xie Lu to fill out the forms, sign them, and write the article titles so she could submit them all together.

When I entered the classroom, there were already quite a few people inside.

Some were chatting, some were catching up on sleep, and some were flipping through textbooks, seemingly looking at nothing in particular.

Li Shu glanced around and found Xie Lu by the window.

Xie Lu was sitting there, staring blankly out the window.

He was either looking out the window or staring blankly at the window, his eyes unfocused, I don't know what he was thinking.

The seat next to him was still empty; his roommates hadn't arrived yet.

Li Shu walked over and stood by his table.

Attorney Xie did not respond.

She waited for two seconds, then moved forward a little more, but still there was no response.

"Lawyer Xie," she called out.

There was no movement.

"Lawyer Xie?" she called out again, her voice a little louder.

Xie Lu seemed to snap out of his daze, turned to look at her, his gaze still a little unfocused, before finally refocusing after half a second.

"What's wrong?" Xie Lu came to his senses, his eyes just focusing, and he realized that it was class monitor Li Shu calling him.

Li Shu handed over the registration form: "The essay contest, didn't you say you wanted to participate? Fill out the form, sign your name, and write the title of your essay so I can submit it together."

Xie Lu said "Oh," took the registration form, and glanced at it.

The table is very simple: name, class, article title, and a brief summary of the content in a few sentences.

He picked up the pen and signed his name in the name column.

Then the pen tip stopped at the article title column and paused for two seconds.

Li Shu stood by and waited, without urging him.

Xie Lu thought for a few seconds, then put down his pen and wrote five words.

An ordinary world.

The handwriting is neat and tidy, with each stroke carefully written.

After finishing writing, he handed the registration form back to Li Shu.

Li Shu took it, glanced down at it, and her gaze first fell on her own column. She had submitted "Cunsheng Huaxiang," which was about the story of that alley in her hometown, from mud-brick houses to brick houses, from kerosene lamps to electric lights.

Then my gaze moved up one line and landed on Xie Lu's column.

An ordinary world.

As she looked at the five characters, a thought popped into her mind: This name is quite ordinary.

Unlike some article titles that try to include everything about greatness and glory, as if afraid others won't know they're writing about a grand subject, this one simply has five words: "Ordinary World."

She looked up and glanced at Xie Lu.

Xie Lu had already turned back and continued to stare blankly out the window.

Li Shu hesitated for a moment, then couldn't help asking, "Lawyer Xie, how's your writing?"

Xie Lu turned his head, glanced at her, his face expressionless, and said, "It's alright."

Okay.

Li Shu nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

She originally wanted to ask, "What have you written before?", but then she thought that they weren't very familiar with each other, so why ask so many questions?

She folded the registration form, put it in her pocket, and turned to leave.

Back in her seat, she took out the registration form again and glanced at it.

In Xie Lu's section, there's only his name; everything else is blank. I'll have to ask him to fill in the biography section later.

She put away the registration form, opened her textbook, and waited for class to begin.

The school bell rang.

The person who came in was an elderly professor who taught ancient literature. He had gray hair, wore reading glasses, and walked slowly.

The old professor had a distinctive way of lecturing: his tone was flat, and his speech was slow, almost like chanting.

It discusses the literature of the Wei, Jin and Southern and Northern Dynasties, the Seven Scholars of Jian'an, the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove, and the Zhengshi era.

The content itself isn't difficult, but his tune makes you sleepy after listening to it for a while.

Xie Lu sat in the middle seat by the window. At first, he tried to stay awake, holding a pen and opening his notebook as if he was going to take notes. But after about ten minutes, his eyelids started to droop.

Old Sun's voice was like a lullaby, slowly and deliberately entering the ears: "During the Jian'an period, a group of literati gathered around Cao Cao and his sons. They created a large number of poems and essays, which later generations called Jian'an literature. The characteristics of Jian'an literature are..."

Xie Lu nodded his head down slightly, then suddenly raised it again.

He blinked, looked at the blackboard, then at the pen in his hand, the tip of which poked a black dot on the paper.

Mr. Sun continued, "During the Zhengshi era, the Sima clan held absolute power, and the political climate was dark. As a result, the creative styles of literati changed, giving rise to the Zhengshi literature represented by Ruan Ji and Ji Kang..."

Xie Lu nodded his head down again.

It didn't lift up this time.

He lay down.

Chu Yunfei, who was standing to the side, didn't even notice; he was also dozing off.

Inside the classroom, Mr. Sun's voice was still speaking at a leisurely pace. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling warmly on the desks and the students lying on the desks.

I slept until the bell rang to signal the end of get out of class.

Xie Lu was awakened by the bell. He looked up, rubbed his eyes, a red mark appeared on his face, and his lips were a little dry. He looked around and saw that the people in the classroom had already started packing up their things.

Zhou Wenbin, who was next to him, closed his notebook, glanced at him, and whispered, "Awake?"

Xie Lu hummed in agreement, rubbed his neck, and said that he had slept for a whole class while lying down, so his neck was a little sore.

After class, Xie Lu didn't go back to his dormitory. Instead, he went to the third floor of the School of Humanities office building to go to Dean Zhou's office.

The day before yesterday, Zhou Shaoyuan told him that the room he had applied for earlier had been cleaned up.