It was just a love letter; I'm really no great writer!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

In the exam room of Class 4, Zhou Jiahao's heart was pounding. Tomorrow morning would be the day when the French rooster would face off against the Spanish matadors.

It's guaranteed to win.

He went all in on 1,027,000...

Including my dad's savings. My dad was just a junior clerk, and with all the social obligations, he didn't save much money. It wasn't even as much as the small fraction of what he earned from betting on the elimination rounds three times in a row!

After the semifinals, it's time for the finals. There's a high probability we'll face the Three Lions, but I'm a little unsure—I have a gut feeling we won't be able to beat them.

Therefore, he plans to stop once he wins this round.

Anyway, if I win, I'll double the money, let's do it! What would Dad be like if he saw two million in the account? Thinking of this, Zhou Jiahao's face flushed, and a strange laugh came from his throat, "Gagaga..." Hold it in, hold it in.

Let's declare victory after tonight...

"Ding-a-ling-a-ling..."

The pristine white exam papers were passed from front to back, and Zhou Jiahao dismissively dusted them off.

Whether you do this question or not doesn't really matter.

Take a break and read a short story that requires reading comprehension.

Zhou Jiahao wrote down his name and student ID, then leisurely turned to the second page and began reading the novel.

My gaze jumped to the first line.

"I haven't seen my father for more than two years, and what I can't forget most is his back view."

The author's language is so natural that you find yourself reading on your own.

This novel... seems to be about a father and son seeing each other off? What era are we living in that they're still taking railway trains? Now it's all high-speed rail.

"I'm going to buy some oranges. You stay here and don't move."

The author's father crossed the railway tracks, climbed onto the platform, and bought the author a whole bunch of oranges.

The author wrote, "At that moment, I saw his back, and my tears quickly flowed down."

Zhou Jiahao thought of his father; he seemed to have gained some weight.

As he watched, his nose started to sting. It was a story that had nothing to do with him, and he had just bought an orange, but for some reason, he felt an urge to cry.

Haha, this doesn't seem to be a novel, it's more like an essay.

"This is really well-written," Zhou Jiahao thought to himself. "If we win the game tomorrow night, I'll buy my dad a massage chair. He always complains about his shoulder pain."

He heard girls sobbing around him. In the tense and serious examination room, a girl with a round face was quietly whimpering in the upper right corner.

It's so touching, I almost cried too... Zhou Jiahao isn't usually a sentimental person, but at this moment he was very empathetic towards that girl.

I didn't cry because of the article, but because it reminded me of myself.

He flipped back to the beginning of the second page, wanting to see who the author was, when suddenly his eyes widened in surprise.

Back view

—Lu Ran

The two bold, regular script characters were printed very clearly.

……

What emotions are conveyed by the four instances of the word "tears" in the text? (4 points)

The phrase "back view" appears repeatedly in the text. Discuss the connotation of this imagery. (6 points)

Xia Liang's vision went black.

She was dumbfounded when she saw the question.

This essay was commissioned by Xinhuai Middle School Pictorial for the first issue. At the time, we laughed at Lu Ran for being so good at making things up. What's the difference between "Dad bought me oranges" and "Mom carried me to the hospital"?

But she really can't laugh now.

A back view is just a back view, what other imagery or connotation could it possibly have?

Fortunately, I did a lot of reading comprehension exercises, and I could answer by piecing together the points. Whether I guessed correctly or not, the examiners would still give me some points for my effort.

Also, was the question-setting team infiltrated by Teacher Huang?

……

Lu Ran flipped to the essay.

[Shi Tiesheng, "Me and the Temple of Earth": The taste is hard to describe; only a personal reunion can awaken all the memories and emotions.]

Please write an essay titled "The Taste of ____".

Requirements: Minimum 800 words, no plagiarism allowed, any subject matter except poetry.

Lu Ran twirled the pen.

He answered the previous questions with exceptional ease, including his analysis of Mr. Zhu Ziqing's essay "The Back View".

It's often said that reading comprehension is just pointless whining, and that the original author didn't really think that much about it—and there's some truth to that.

But if you think that way, you're only seeing the surface.

For any writer with a bit of talent to take this kind of test is like an experienced driver taking a driving test—there's no chance of them messing up.

Even if you answer seriously, you still can't get full marks?

That only shows that the examiner's level was insufficient and they couldn't understand the author's thought process.

I made my living with my pen, and writing essays was like pinching a snail with three fingers – I could only manage it with my bare hands.

Lu Ran can write one easily.

Fill in the blank with the words "duck egg," and memories come flooding back.

"My hometown is a water town. We raise ducks here."

"Having seen the ocean, one finds it hard to be impressed by mere rivers; and I simply cannot stand salted duck eggs from a foreign land."

"As soon as the chopstick tip pierces it, squeak—and the red oil oozes out."

"Salted duck eggs from the capital have pale yellow yolks. What are these called?" (Note 24)

……

The three-day exam went by very quickly.

The last biology exam was over at dusk, with the sunset glow on the horizon.

Lu Ran let out a long sigh of relief and put away the stationery.

Back in the messy Class 6 classroom, the students were all excited, chatting amongst themselves or playing games with their heads down.

There are two more days at school, which are for reviewing exam papers and the dismissal ceremony. After that, it's summer vacation.

The homeroom teacher, Zhang Xuan, has already sent out the subject selection preferences, and the class assignments will be reshuffled next semester, causing widespread anxiety.

However, I might have to transfer schools anyway... so I don't care anymore.

Oh right, there's another thing he doesn't really care about:

In the past two days, a group of poets from the Beijing school of poetry have emerged, led by Beijing poet Jiao Tong, and have been openly and covertly belittling Lu Ran's poetry under the guise of literary criticism.

From "When You Are Old" to three-line love poems, and even "The Song of the Pipa," all have been bombarded with criticism.

When authoritative poets endorse something, the general public, who already lack critical thinking skills, can easily be swayed.

"A one-sided male gaze directed at women, nothing more than self-indulgence; how can this be touted as a masterpiece?"

"The poem's structure is mediocre, and its weakest point is its theme. It's completely immersed in personal feelings, after all, it's written by a student."

"I've wanted to say this for a long time. Male poets all have this problem: women lose their value when they get old? They have a real knack for disciplining women."

"Wow! I used to really like Lu Ran..."

"His picture of a crab peeling my shell is so cheesy. How did he get on the charts? Did he rig the votes?"

"Let me give you a sharp critique: 'Pipa Xing' is just a viral, mindless song that became popular through Douyin (TikTok). Nine out of ten videos use it as background music, and it's even being used in textbooks? This is the end for China!"

"The Pipa Ballad is just Lu Ran venting his frustrations after his breakup; it's so melodramatic..."

Such anti-fan comments have become rampant and frequently trend on social media.

Needless to say, the big hand exerted its strength again.

Almost overnight.

Lu Ran went from being a love-letter poet who brought glory to our country to being portrayed as a deliberately hyped internet celebrity high school student.

Any flaw in Lu Ran's private life will be scrutinized under a magnifying glass until it is deconstructed into a meme.

Thus, the poet became Jiahao.

Deep affection can turn into promiscuity.

There may only be a few thousand online trolls, but tens of thousands of netizens follow suit.

For them, it's just a matter of gossiping, like "Oh, so-and-so's scandal has broken down again," and casually stepping on it to show off their own presence.

They completely forgot that it was also this group of people who elevated it to a pedestal.

Lu Ran originally didn't intend to pay attention to the online uproar, for silence was the highest form of contempt.

While I felt sorry for Yeats, I found them even more amusing.

—What? The lyrics to "The Ballad of the Pipa" aren't acceptable?

On Earth, your comment would get thousands of replies...

But thinking about it, arguing with these indecisive fence-sitters is pointless.

There is no obligation to persuade or change other people's opinions.

I'm not Zhou Xun.

That was what Lu Ran originally thought.

But on the day the exam ended, an even stronger backlash erupted online, from the die-hard fans, who were actually his own loyal followers.

It was like a campaign launched by Tieba, crushing the entire internet.

Completely dominate the social media of poets in that area of ​​Beijing;

In the forum comments section, we vindicate Lu Ran.

Various analytical and popular science videos have sprung up like mushrooms after rain, blooming in all their glory...

A grand and enduring revival of poetry began amidst this turbulent and chaotic situation—

Well, for the people who like me, I still have to write something.

Lu Ran posted a status update on Bilibili:

"When fortune turns against you, what can you hope for? Before you dare to turn over, you've already bumped your head."

"A tattered hat hides my face as I pass through the bustling city; a leaky boat carries wine as I drift on the middle of the stream."

"I will face a thousand pointing fingers with a cold eye, yet I will bow my head and serve the people like an ox." (Note 24)

-

Note 23: From Wang Zengqi's "Food of My Hometown".

Note 24: From Lu Xun's "Self-Mockery".