Grandpa's great writer

Chapter 392 Impressionism and Hyperrealism

Zhuang Yu woke up early.

It's not that he wants to get up so early, it's just that his two grandsons are fighting in the living room early in the morning, and he can't sleep because of the noise.

Zhuang Yu got married relatively early and had two sons and a daughter. The two sons have already married, and each has added a boy.

The youngest daughter is a graduate student who just started this year. She came back from vacation two days ago, stayed for two days and went out to play again.

The two sons don't live with them, but the grandson throws them over as soon as they are on vacation.

It is said that they are relatives from different generations, but Zhuang Yu really annoys these two little grandchildren.These two brats can't eat enough, can't do anything, and know how to fight every day.

After Zhuang Yu got up and washed, he said to his two grandsons who were fighting in the living room, "You two, go to the study to practice calligraphy for two hours."

"Ah—" the two grandsons wailed at the same time.

Not to mention two hours of writing, let them stay in the study for 5 minutes and they will feel uncomfortable all over.

Grandma Li Xiuying, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, heard the movement in the living room and poked her head out, "What's wrong?"

"Grandma, grandpa asked us to practice calligraphy for two hours." The eldest grandson complained.

"Two hours is a bit long, let's practice for half an hour." After finishing speaking, Li Xiuying turned to look at Zhuang Yu again, "They are only young, and you are not afraid of crippling their hands."

"I don't know how to love you, a spoiled child is like killing a child." Zhuang Yu curled his lips, but finally remained silent.

It was also rare to get up early, Zhuang Yu got up and opened the window, but seeing that the air outside was not very good, he closed the window again.

Turning around to sit on the sofa and watch the news, the doorbell rang.

"Both of you, go and open the door." Zhuang Yu instructed the two grandsons.

"Brother, you go."

"I'm not going, you are going."

"You are older, let me go."

"You are younger, listen to me."

Zhuang Yu got a little impatient, "Let's go together."

Although the two grandsons are skinny, they have always been afraid of grandpa, so they can only go to open the door together.

"Grandpa, the courier, your courier."

Zhuang Yu raised his eyebrows, he didn't buy anything, what kind of express delivery could he have?

Got up and walked over, there was a middle-aged man standing at the door, wearing a suit and leather shoes, he was not a courier at first glance.

When the man saw Zhuang Yu, he smiled and said, "Mr. Zhuang, Mr. Zhang sent me to deliver books to you."

Zhuang Yu looked at the big paper bag he handed over, and suddenly remembered what it was, he patted his forehead, "Oh, thank you, sit inside, Xiuying, we have guests, pour a cup of tea."

Xu Yang looked at Zhuang Yu in his pajamas, and sighed that he was able to get in touch with him so closely, and he agreed to Zhuang Yu's invitation, but he shook his head and said, "You're welcome, Mr. Zhuang, you This is the first one, and there are still a few teachers whose books I haven’t delivered yet.”

"Hey, it doesn't matter if I deliver it to them later. I'm really sorry to trouble you to come and deliver it in this cold weather. Come in and have a drink of hot water and let me do my best." Zhuang Yu said.

"I really don't need Mr. Zhuang. Thank you for your kindness. My car is still parked below. If I don't go there, the security guards in your community are probably looking for me."

Zhuang Yu nodded, "Okay, thank you very much, in fact, just find a courier to deliver it, there is really no need to go there in person."

"It's okay, it's okay, I'll go first, Mr. Zhuang, you are at home."

"Okay, then I won't send it off, go slowly."

After Xu Yang left, Zhuang Yu walked into the house with a paper bag, and Li Xiuying came over with a water bottle, "Where are you, didn't you say there are guests?"

"Let's go. It's Zhang Zhong's man who came to deliver the books." As he spoke, Zhuang Yu raised the paper bag in his hand.

"Oh, what book did I give you? It looks quite thick."

"The new book will be released tomorrow, so I've got a sneak peek." Zhuang Yu laughed.

"Well, don't read it in a hurry, breakfast is ready, watch it after eating."

"it is good."

Zhuang Yu said yes, but involuntarily opened the paper bag with his hand.

There were two books wrapped in a yellow oil-paper bag, Zhuang Yu raised his eyebrows, "This book is quite thick, probably a million-word masterpiece."

After getting the book, he opened the book while walking towards the small restaurant.

What Xu Yang said just now made him both happy and anxious.

Happily, he was the first one among them to get the book, and anxiously, it won't be long before they will get the book too.

No, he must be the first to finish reading this book.

Perhaps Xu Yang would never have imagined that Zhuang Yu would care so much about what he just said casually, let alone that Zhuang Yu, a bigwig in the literary world, would act like a child, and such things should be compared with others .

The beginning of this book explains the time, February and March [-], an ordinary day.

It seems that the protagonist of this book is a poor student named Sun Shaoping, a boy of seventeen or eighteen years old, just at the age where he can eat and drink.

But he can only eat two sorghum buns per meal.

It is said that in the old society, landlords did not use sorghum to feed their livestock, because it was the most beautiful and nutritious grain.

But even sorghum buns without nutrition cannot be supplied in sufficient quantity.

Can't even get enough to eat.

Zhuang Yu thought of his own childhood, this Sun Shaoping should be about the same age as Zhuang Yu, maybe a few years older than him.

But Zhuang Yu still remembers those days clearly.

There is no exaggeration in the book, because Zhuang Yu lived such a life when he was a child.

Zhuang Yu's father used to open a shop selling beef noodles in the village market. He remembered clearly that the price was five cents a bowl.

But even if it was five cents a bowl of their own beef noodles, Zhuang Yu didn't eat it a few times until the shop closed, so he couldn't bear it.

Zhuang Yu went to school relatively late. He only entered the first grade when he was ten years old. The tuition fee was [-] cents a semester. It's better, after all, Zhuang Yu was still in junior high school when he was sixteen or seventeen.

Just after reading two chapters, Zhuang Yu's thoughts soared.

It may be because of the background of the times, at least now, this "Ordinary World" is more touching to him than the previous "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood".

The more he looked down, the more surprised Zhuang Yu felt.

Why did Zhang Zhong know so much about life at that time?

When "Xu Sanguan Sells Blood" came out, he had thought about this question, but he was not as surprised as he is now.

Because the writing technique of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" is more suspended, blurring the historical environment and life background a lot. Unlike this book, the life background of the characters is as fine as a thread.

If we use painting as an analogy, "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" is an impressionist painting, while "Ordinary World" is a hyperrealist painting.

(End of this chapter)