I am not a literary giant

Chapter 202 Iron Moon (8600 words)

An Younan dragged a chair over and sat down next to Wang Zixu, her knees almost touching his. She opened the contract and spread it on her lap.

"Considering you probably overheard most of my plan at Ning Chunyan's place, I'll keep it brief. The contract format I'm giving you is based on that of a Category A internet celebrity..."

Upon hearing the words "Category A internet celebrity," Wang Zixu's face twitched slightly. An Younan noticed the change in his expression and continued:

"...Referring to the standard contract for Category A influencers, except for the live streaming part, everything else is the same. Then, regarding the specific figures, I've decided to make some changes for you—"

She picked up a pen, crossed out "500 million" in the "signing fee" line of the contract, and changed it to "650 million". Then, she changed "20" in the "appearance fee" column to "26".

After making the changes, she capped the pen, raised her face, and stared into Wang Zixu's eyes: "I'll give you this amount."

Sartre started nagging again from behind: "Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!"

Prince Xu ignored Sartre and said to An Younan, "I have a question."

"Excuse me."

"Why did you proactively add money?"

An Younan smiled slightly: "Your image is better than I imagined, which is good for our brand image, so I'll give you extra money."

What kind of image do you imagine me to be?

Like Ma Baoguo.

"So, you think my image is 30% better than Ma Baoguo's?"

"right."

"I didn't mean any disrespect to Teacher Ma," Wang Zixu said. "While I'm not exactly a super handsome guy, 30% is a bit low, isn't it?"

"Really? Is that what you think?"

"I think it should be at least 35%."

An Younan finally couldn't hold back and covered her mouth to laugh out loud.

"In that case, let me mention it to you again."

She opened the pen holder, giggled, and changed "260,000" on the contract to "265,000".

After making the changes, she raised her chin, looked directly into Wang Zixu's eyes, and asked provocatively, "Is this reasonable now?"

An Younan was joking, of course. After regaining her senses, she couldn't hide the surprise in her eyes; she was actually quite satisfied with Wang Zixu's appearance.

It's like meeting someone you met online and discovering that not only are their photos unedited, but they're actually even more attractive in person. That's exactly how she feels right now.

Wang Zixu said, "It's a little more reasonable. Although I think it's rather vulgar to use money to measure appearance, it is indeed a little more reasonable."

An Younan smiled again, her eyes narrowing. She said to him, "I didn't expect we could get along so well. Since the timing is so good, why don't we sign a letter of intent tonight?"

Sartre approached Prince Xu from behind and whispered in his ear, "Is this a good enough deal? I think they're quite sincere, so just agree. There's an old Chinese saying, 'Wait for the right price,' and now that the price is right, what are we waiting for?"

Seeing that the prince remained unmoved, Sartre grew anxious: "Zuo Ziliang is already planning to sell his shares, what are you still hesitating for? He doesn't even care about you, what are you talking about loyalty for? Hurry up and switch jobs! Your value will decrease if you wait too long!"

Seeing that he was still hesitating, An Younan said again, "Teacher Little Prince, popularity doesn't last forever. Even a few celebrities who remain popular for a long time need to keep buying trending topics and appearing on shows in order to keep themselves in people's memories."

"So far, all you've left the audience with is a code name and a bunch of text. These are actually quite easy to forget. Hurry up, it would be best to sign the letter of intent tonight, maybe I'll change my mind tomorrow."

Finally, Prince Xu spoke: "I can cooperate with you. But I have one condition."

An Younan smiled and said, "Please speak."

"I won't sign a contract with you as the Little Prince," said Wang Zixu. "And I won't sign a contract as an internet celebrity either."

An Younan's expression changed. She frowned and closed the contract in her hand: "I can't understand this condition. What we need is the identity of the Little Prince. If you don't cooperate as the Little Prince, then what's the point of cooperation?"

Wang Zixu said, "If I had to explain, it would be that I would cooperate with Qingyan in the same way I cooperated with Wen Ai. I would do the same thing I did with Wen Ai."

An Younan sighed: "Teacher Little Prince, did you understand what I just said? The popularity needs to be maintained! The advantage of our Xunyi platform is that it is big enough and has many channels, so we are not limited to text."

"If you come to us, you'll have countless opportunities to appear on variety shows and trend on social media. We also have professionals to help with marketing and promotion. We can turn you into a star and take your popularity to the next level. I don't understand why you're not willing to do it."

Wang Zixu stared at her for a while and said, "Calm down first."

"I am very calm."

"It's normal to have different opinions. The difference between us is that I believe popularity is cheap, while the words themselves are precious."

An Younan retorted: "Words are cheap."

"It seems I can't convince you."

An Younan gripped the contract pages tightly with both hands: "I don't know if you've studied communication studies, but words are just symbols. The general public isn't that artistic; only those energetic college students can remember words so vividly."

"As time passes and the world changes, only faces will be remembered. You might remember Tony Leung and Chow Yun-fat's faces, but will you remember their lines? From a communication perspective, words are cheap!"

Wang Zixu said, "I can remember all the lines from Chow Yun-fat's movie 'Let the Bullets Fly'."

"That's because you have a good memory."

Prince Xu said, "I'll ask you one question. If you can answer it, I'll go with you."

"Go ahead and ask."

"After being acquired by Xunyi, Qingyan, with such a large platform, why is it still unable to compete with Wen'ai?"

An Younan was momentarily speechless.

After a while, she finally spoke, saying, "That's because you haven't arrived yet. We can't easily say we lack a core competitive advantage, and we also lack a selling point."

"No, that's not it. What you're saying is a lack of quality content," Wang Zixu leaned down and told her. "Wen Ai doesn't have any lousy publicity either. Little Prince's reputation was spread by others; I've always just been a writer."

An Younan finally wavered and asked, "What did you do in Wen'ai?"

"Write scripts. Two per day."

"this one?"

"That's all," Wang Zixu said. "If there's anything else, it's that I've also trained a few people to help me write scripts."

"I don't believe it," An Younan said.

"If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do."

An Younan's eyebrows twitched twice. Wang Zixu's words were typical of a scumbag, and although the content was unrelated, she still felt extremely angry.

"You're already so popular, and you even published a super long novel called 'Gain,' and you personally wrote the script? And you write it every day?? How is that possible!"

"It sounds unbelievable, but that's the truth, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Wang Zixu's expression had a hint of schadenfreude, but it didn't seem fake, which completely confused An Younan.

After thinking in silence for a long time, she finally bit her lip and said, "Okay, let's give it a try."

She stood up, went to the bookshelf, rummaged through a large pile of documents and materials, and finally pulled out a stack of papers, placing them in front of Wang Zixu.

"This is the standard contract we provide to content creators, the kind that charges by word count. I've crossed out the copyright clause; we only charge per piece. Two scripts a day, right? I'll give you one..."

She pressed the pen to her lips, thought for a moment, unsure of the exact amount, and then asked, "How much do you get paid in Wen'ai?"

"I am a shareholder of Wen'ai."

That makes more sense, and An Younan wasn't surprised. She scratched her head and finally said, "Alright, I'll give you 1 per article, no less than 50 per month, with no upper limit. Of course, the quality has to be good. Is that okay?"

"puff--"

Sartre, who was sitting behind Prince Xu, spat out.

At 1 yuan per article, and two articles a day, that's 60 yuan a month. That's more than Wang Zixu's salary plus his share of the profits, and there's no risk involved.

An Younan really doesn't value money!

An Younan then said, "I'll sign a one-month contract with you first. If it works well, we can renew it. If it doesn't, then our cooperation will end. What do you think?"

For Xunyi, this contract didn't actually require any investment. Compared to variety shows, trending topics, and marketing, the 1 yuan fee per article was negligible, meaning there were virtually no costs involved.

She poached a key figure from her competitor without incurring any cost, which was pure profit for her. The only problem was that the other party was a shareholder, posing a risk of them not putting in the necessary effort. However, she felt the risk was manageable.

Prince Xu nodded: "Okay."

Sartre finally breathed a sigh of relief.

An Younan made a few changes to the contract and said, "Okay, let's sign a letter of intent before we both regret it, so that we can finalize our opinions."

Wang Zixu said, "Let me take a look at the contract."

An Younan handed him the contract, and Wang Zixu began to read it. An Younan also breathed a sigh of relief and comfortably leaned back in her chair.

"I don't know if my decision is right or wrong. Strictly speaking, giving you this contract is beyond my job responsibilities, but I do have some authority at Xunyi that exceeds the norm. So I need you to give me some assurances, otherwise it will be very troublesome to handle our internal affairs."

As Wang Zixu reviewed the contract, he asked, "Actually, I find it strange. Aren't you the brand ambassador for Xunyi? Why are you in charge of such a large sum of money?"

An Younan raised an eyebrow: "Look down on me? Think I'm just a pretty face?"

"That's not what I meant. I'm just curious about your identity."

"Don't be curious."

"I'm curious about the mysteries surrounding you, not about you as a person."

"That's even more forbidden," An Younan said with a grin. "I allow you to be curious about me personally, but digging into my mysteries is not allowed."

Prince Xu smiled slightly but did not answer.

After turning the page, he asked, "How did you talk to Zuo Ziliang?"

An Younan was taken aback: "Zuo Ziliang?"

"To be frank, I saw the letter of intent that Zuo Ziliang signed with you," Wang Zixu said while looking at the contract. "Is he planning to sell Wen'ai?"

An Younan frowned slightly: "When did he decide to sell Wen Ai?"

Prince Xu suddenly looked up: "No?"

"I don't know where you got your information, but as far as I know, you don't. If Zuo Ziliang were willing to sell Wen Ai, why would I bother dealing with you?"

After a pause, An Younan continued, "However, we did meet and reached some gentleman's agreements, kind of memorandums, between industry leaders. He's just like you, very stubborn and straightforward. It's true what they say, birds of a feather flock together."

Wang Zixu felt a chill run down his spine, and the letter of intent in his hand fell to the ground.

He picked it up, and then realized that he had completely misunderstood Zuo Ziliang.

He only considered talking to An Younan because he thought Zuo Ziliang was going to sell the company. If Zuo Ziliang hadn't betrayed them, then that premise wouldn't exist.

From a financial perspective, he could indeed earn more and face less risk by switching jobs, but he simply couldn't bring himself to leave without talking to Zuo Ziliang, as that would violate his principles.

Wang Zixu returned the contract to her: "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't sign it."

An Younan sat up straight and glared at him: "Why?"

"Since Zuo Ziliang hasn't retired, I shouldn't look for another job. I can't be so disloyal."

An Younan jumped up, clenched her fists, and bounced around like a child whose toys had been confiscated, shouting, "I'm so angry!"

"I'm sorry," said Prince Xu.

"Are you all crazy?! You're all like this! Wasting my time and my feelings!"

For a behemoth like Xunyi, An Younan, the spokesperson in charge of negotiations, was somewhat out of line at this moment. Considering that she was a full eight years younger than Prince, it was understandable.

But it must be said that Wang Zixu's remorse at this moment was genuine, and he said again, "I'm sorry."

"What's the use of 'sorry'?" An Younan sat down with a cold face, her tone stiff. "So it seems you, like Zuo Ziliang, are determined to go against Xunyi?"

"That's Zuo Ziliang's job scope. As I said, I'm just a writer. If he wants to go against Xunyi, then all I have to consider is writing a script that can defeat Xunyi."

An Younan laughed in exasperation.

"So you know the consequences of going against Xunyi, right?"

"Adults are responsible for their own choices."

"OK."

An Younan gathered up all the contracts and tore them to shreds, one by one.

"Then we have nothing more to discuss. You can leave now. Remember to tell your shareholders to prepare for a full-scale war from Xunyi."

"..."

Wang Zixu was naturally not intimidated by her. Xunyi Company had never had a history of leaving a way out for its competitors. Even if An Younan hadn't made that harsh statement, the two companies, whose business sectors completely overlapped, would have been locked in a life-or-death struggle.

He was just a little dumbfounded—Shi Tonghe and An Younan both owned mansions, both were powerful figures they couldn't afford to offend, and both had offered perfect terms.

But he had to refuse both offers.

No matter how you look at it, Prince Xu's chances of survival are slim.

He apologized to An Younan again, then turned to leave.

"stop."

Prince Xu turned around.

"It seems like our business isn't over yet, is it?" An Younan's face remained icy. "I haven't settled the score with you for spying in the spa room. I was only willing to overlook it because your little prince was cooperating with us, but now that you're not cooperating with me, are you trying to run away?"

Prince Xu turned around, walked towards her, and stretched out his hands.

An Younan asked, "What are you doing?!"

"Then it seems the only option is to arrest me," Wang Zixu said. "Go ahead and call the police."

"You think I wouldn't dare call the police? You think I wouldn't want to put the little prince in jail?"

"No, I'm serious," Wang Zixu said. "Judging from the current situation, I can't think of any solution other than going to jail."

An Younan stared into his eyes for a long time, then laughed in exasperation.

"It won't be as simple as just sending you to jail."

She sprawled out on the chair, crossed her legs high, and said:

"You know how to give massages, don't you? Philosophy master, come and finish the massage you didn't finish last time."

Wang Zixu spread his hands, completely bewildered.

"Come on?" An Younan patted her leg. "Weren't you quite the smooth talker before? Now you're putting on an act again?"

Wang Zixu couldn't keep up with her unpredictable train of thought at all.

This woman is completely unpredictable.

"Come on, come on, I want to hear you recite poetry some more." An Younan patted the chair again. "The Little Prince boasted to me for a while and then rejected my invitation. Can't I at least test your mettle? At least let me know what kind of opponent you are, right?"

An Younan's reasons sounded nice, but no matter how you looked at it, they revealed the dark side of this young rich woman's heart.

The prince asked tentatively, "If we do it, will our debts be even?"

"If you can satisfy me, then I won't hold you responsible, okay?"

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Prince Xu sighed and walked behind her, but she slapped his hand away.

"Come here, come forward, let me massage your feet."

She hooked the low stool next to her with her foot, then with a flick of her finger, she took off two pairs of socks and threw them on the ground, light as snow, like the shed skin of two small white snakes.

"Pay attention, or don't blame me for kicking you."

Prince Xu squatted down.

An Younan had feet with a high arch, white soles, and red forefeet and heels. Due to the dry weather, there were crisscrossing lines on the soles of her feet, like palm lines, with very smooth edges. Her toes were long, and each toe was clearly defined. Through the gaps between her toes, he saw her eyes gleaming with a cold chill.

Looking at those feet, Wang Zixu asked sincerely, "Then how should I discuss poetry?"

"Talking about poetry is just talking about poetry, just like you did last time."

"Then I'll talk about Li Bai."

And so the foot mercilessly landed on Prince Xu's face.

"I want you to talk about poetry I don't know, don't try to fool me like you're a child. Understand?"

Wang Zixu didn't speak. His left eye was being stepped on by toes; with a slight bend of her toes, Miss An could have gouged his eyeball out. Her heel landed on his mouth; his nose was being ravaged beyond recognition. He didn't even want to breathe.

Fortunately, her feet weren't sweaty; they were dry, without calluses, and didn't hurt his face. If they were sticky, slippery, sweaty feet, and he could smell some kind of odor, he would want to die.

"Nod?" An Younan said domineeringly.

He nodded.

Miss An withdrew her foot.

Wang Zixu was unaware of Miss An's reading volume and couldn't very well protest against this "punishment without prior instruction" behavior. He moved his hands up and said:

"Since you want to hear poems you're not very familiar with, let's start with foreign poets."

"Hmm." An Younan lay back in the chair and hummed softly.

"Besides Adonis, I also admire the Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke," said Wang Zixu. "He is one of the best Western poets of the 20th century. His poems have a sculptural beauty—gentle, silent, intimate, and solitary. His language has transcended boundaries, touching the heavens, like sacred music."

"Summer is at its peak. Place your shade on the sundial, let the wind blow across the pasture. Let the last fruits on the branches ripen; give them two more days of good southern weather, hasten their ripening, and press the last sweetness into the strong wine."

"Whoever has no house now, will never build one; whoever is alone now, will always be alone; he shall wake, read, write long letters, and wander endlessly along tree-lined paths as leaves fall."

Prince Xu placed his thumbs on the soles of the feet, first gently rubbing them, then slowly applying pressure, feeling the stiffness in the body of the feet' owner, then relaxing them, and then rubbing the Yongquan acupoint with even force.

"Rilke loved roses. He wrote that roses are like eyes, 'The gazing rose, which blooms and fades.'"

"One day in 1929, a friend visited Rilke. He went to the garden and picked a white rose to give to his friend. His finger was pricked by the rose's thorns, the wound became infected, and he eventually died. One of the greatest poets of the 20th century died from a white rose."

An Younan raised her head: "Really?"

"real."

"It's just like a scene from a novel," Miss An commented.

“Yes,” Wang Zixu said, “Do you know Zweig? The Zweig who wrote ‘The Stars of Humanity.’ He was familiar with Rilke. He said that Rilke was a pure poet.”

What is a pure poet?

"A true poet is someone who lives solely to write poetry, to write better poetry, and to write even better poetry."

"He had a pair of blue eyes famously described as rose-like, which is why Zweig recognized him at their first meeting. Those deep, bright, and pure eyes closed like blooming roses. His epitaph reads:"

"'Rose, oh, pure paradox, willing to sleep like no other before or since under so many eyelids.'"

"Hmm."

Miss An gave a soft hum. Whether she was satisfied with this part of the poem or the story remains to be seen, but in any case, Prince Xu was about to move on to the next part.

"It is a pity that Rilke did not receive the Nobel Prize in Literature like Yeats and Eliot, who were also great poets. Because of this, Rilke is not as famous as the other two."

"There's another South American poet who almost didn't win the Nobel Prize in Literature, Pablo Neruda, and that's the next one I'll talk about."

"Good!" Sartre, standing behind Prince Xu, clapped.

An Younan said, "If you get it, you get it; if you don't, you don't. What do you mean by 'almost didn't get it'?"

"Don't rush, I'll continue. The eternal theme of Neruda's poetry is love and revolution. He cared about humanity and his country. As Mr. Wen Yiduo said, the most important talent of a poet is love, love for his motherland, and love for his people."

"His love poems are also very moving. Even after translation, which has lost many linguistic elements, they can still touch the heart. Reading them makes you want to fall in love."

I like you when you are silent, as if you have gone far away.

"You listen to me from afar, but my voice cannot reach you."

"Like a kiss, sealing your lips."

"As if all things filled my soul."

"You emerge from all things and fill my soul."

I like you when you are silent, as if you have gone far away.

"You hear me from afar, but my voice cannot reach you."

"Let me be silent in your silence. And let me speak to you through your silence."

Your silence is as bright as a lamp, as simple as a ring.

"You are like the night, possessing both solitude and stars."

"Your silence is the silence of the stars, distant and bright."

Despite the heating in the room, An Younan's feet began to feel slightly cold. Wang Zixu thought, "If that's the case, why bother taking off my socks? At least they don't smell."

He covered his feet with his palms as much as possible, his hands feeling the coldness of his feet, and his feet feeling the warmth of his hands.

An Younan let the lingering charm of the poem echo in the air for two short stanzas before slowly saying, "Do all men like women to shut up? Do they get annoyed when they hear them talk?"

"That's one way to understand it."

"You think women aren't annoying? My dad is quite annoyed with my mom, and my mom is annoyed with my dad too. They're always complaining to me behind my back. My dad, on the other hand, doesn't say anything to me. He also writes poetry."

"You have a very happy family."

"Where did you hear that happiness?!"

"It sounds like a happy family to me. My parents divorced when I was young. I only have my dad and I don't see my mom very often."

"...You haven't told me how Neruda almost didn't win the Nobel Prize in Literature."

Wang Zixu said, "Neruda was a genius; at the age of 19, he published his acclaimed masterpiece, *Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair*. But he didn't win an award until 1964, when Sartre won the Nobel Prize in Literature, and he refused to accept it..."

At this point, Sartre, standing behind Prince Xu, covered his eyes and exclaimed, "Oh! No!"

"One of the reasons he refused the Nobel Prize was that Neruda also didn't receive it. This made Sartre, a left-wing figure, suspect that the Nobel Prize was biased. This matter caused a great uproar and is still being discussed today."

"Three years after Sartre refused the award, in 1971, whether Sartre's protest had an effect or because Neruda's friend Allende was elected president of Chile in 1970, Neruda was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature."

An Younan's expression showed a mixture of understanding and confusion. She said, "So, he still won the award, and Sartre was unlucky to have been chosen."

"No," Wang Zixu said. "Later, after historical documents were declassified, people discovered that Neruda had been nominated for the Nobel Prize multiple times, but was rejected each time because of his political leanings. Because he was a member of the Chilean Communist Party."

"Oh—" An Younan raised her head, "Then there's a problem with the Nobel Prize."

Prince Xu remained noncommittal: "The reason I said 'almost didn't win the award' is because, just two years after he won the award, Pinochet launched a military coup, the Allende government collapsed, and Neruda, as Allende's friend, died mysteriously."

An Younan fell silent.

"Regarding Allende, you can watch the video about Chile by John Khan Jr."

An Younan yawned.

"Okay, I got it. Next, let's talk about something domestic."

Wang Zixu felt like she was a foot masseuse in "One Thousand and One Nights," and An Younan was the king, telling her a story every day.

"Among the top modern poets in China, there are Bei Dao, Gu Cheng, Hai Zi, and so on. Among the more recently famous living poets, there is Yu Xiuhua. But I want to tell you about a lesser-known poet, Xu Lizhi."

"Xu Lizhi was an assembly line worker in Fukushima. He only had one collection of poems, 'Iron Moon,' and his poems were filled with despair. 'I swallowed an iron moon, which they called a screw.' This kind of real cruelty leaves one speechless as one reads it."

Wang Zixu changed his hand shape, using the thicker part of his palm below the web of his thumb to touch the sole of his foot, pushing forward with his thumb. The instep was smooth, and the toes changed shape under the force of his hand, like a series of leaping musical notes.

"I speak of blood out of desperation. I also want to talk about romance and poetry, about the history of past dynasties, and the verses sung over wine. But reality forces me to speak only of blood."

"The bloodline originates from a matchbox-like rented room. It's cramped, crammed, and perpetually dark. It squeezes in migrant workers, fallen women, their husbands from other places, and me, who toils by day for a living and writes poetry by night."

"Perhaps he didn't explore the boundaries of linguistic art, but what's shocking is the stark and brutal reality. When I learned about this poet, he was already dead. He died from a fall, possibly suicide. Now, almost 10 years have passed. Reality may be a little better, or it may not be."

Even, soft breathing could be heard from the seat. Prince Xu slowly stood up. An Younan was already asleep, her head drooping on her chest.

Prince Xu smiled wryly. Power always seems to fall asleep when it comes to the lower classes. He tiptoed and gently covered her with a blanket. Then he slowly went out.

He went out and closed the door. As soon as he turned around, he was met by Duan Xiaosang, whose eyes were gleaming.

"Where's Xiao Nan?"

Prince pointed to the doorway and said, "She's asleep."

Duan Xiaosang didn't believe it. She went into the house, took a look, and then came out again, her expression becoming even stranger.

"What exactly did you talk about?"

Wang Zixu glanced at his watch; more than half an hour had passed. A lone man and woman had been in a room for over half an hour; only the man came out, the woman was asleep…

No matter how you look at it, it's highly suspicious. Utterly suspicious. It's like a snake slowly swimming towards you, carrying a blood-red apple in its beak.

But Prince Xu didn't want to explain. He only said, "We talked about poetry."

"poetry??"

Prince Xu said, "I should take my leave now."

Duan Xiaosang had no choice but to let him go.

Wang Zixu walked to the door, and she came up to him, saying, "Let's exchange contact information."

"it is good."

"You're Xiaonan's friend, so you're my friend too. If you have any questions about copyright management in the future, you can ask me."

"it is good."

"I think you and Xiao Nan are a good match; you two give me a sense of similarity."

"what?"

Wang Zixu felt that her feelings were completely unreasonable. In his mind, An Younan was like a larger version of Ye Lan.

Duan Xiaosang winked at him: "You two have a similar vibe. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you really are alike."

After saying goodbye to Duan Xiaosang, Wang Zixu went downstairs, found the driver, and the driver took him home. Standing at the entrance of the residential complex, he felt as if he had been transported to another world.

Looking back at the night sky, the moon hangs like a hook on the horizon, its light dim and faint. I wonder if it's made of iron.

Although both are about the moon, Du Fu wrote fewer poems about it than Li Bai did.

How many moons did Du Fu describe? "Stars hang low over the vast plains, the moon surges in the great river's flow," "A wisp of cloud drifts far across the sky, the moon shines lonely through the long night," and "The dew is white from tonight, the moon is bright in my hometown."

Anything else? Hmm... Does "A letter from home is worth a fortune when war rages for three months" count?

Prince Xu chuckled. He was laughing at himself.

Go upstairs. Go home.

Li Bai had his moon, and Du Fu had his moon. Fortunately, Xu Lizhi also has his own moon, albeit one made of iron.

From a literary perspective, Xu Lizhi now stands shoulder to shoulder with any great poet. He will remember him. That is the significance of literature. To care about literature is to care about humanity.

When he entered the living room, he found the television still flickering dimly, and there was no sound. Approaching the sofa, he saw that Ye Lan was already asleep.

Perhaps because of the cold, she curled up on the sofa, her long, slender legs, clad in black leggings, folded up in front of her chest, barefoot.

Although Prince Xu had just made a cynical remark that An Younan was a deluxe version of Ye Lan, Ye Lan was definitely not a poor-quality version of An Younan. No matter how you looked at it, she was much cuter.

Aside from the feet. Ye Lan is too tall, so her feet are very big. An Younan's feet are smaller. It's not that he likes small feet. Purely from an aesthetic point of view, An Younan's small feet with their elegant arches are beautiful. Like a delicate porcelain dove.

The prince struggled to lift her up and put her back on her bed in her own bedroom, then covered her with the blanket. He also turned off the TV in the living room. Ye Lan remained undisturbed throughout the entire process.

(End of this chapter)