Heterogeneous star

Chapter 155 [The "Nostalgia" that cannot be erased! 】

in the afternoon.

two o'clock.

The charity auction has officially started.

The first auction was a calligrapher's calligraphy, and the starting price of the auction was [-].

"Fuck your sister, this calligraphy is so ugly, you dare to sell it for [-] yuan? And it's the starting price? Why don't you go and rob it?" Han Shuo cursed in his heart. He also dabbled in calligraphy. Whether the writing is good or not, he will know after a few times. Of course, for those whose calligraphy realm is too much beyond him, he naturally can't tell how good it is, he only knows that the writing is better than his own.

However, the calligraphy in front of me, bah!To say ink treasure is to insult the word.This guy's writing is the same as that of elementary school students who have just learned brush calligraphy, and even worse than those written by those elementary school students.

But just as Han Shuo was showing contempt for the calligraphy, someone asked for a price.

"Twenty thousand!"

"Thirty thousand!"

"fifty thousand!"

At this time, a slightly majestic old voice sounded: "One hundred thousand!"

After hearing this voice, those present rarely made a sound.

Han Shuo finally understands that Mr. Tang is indeed doing charity work. He can buy it with such bad handwriting. Just because of his fearless spirit of dedicating himself to the cause of charity, he is worthy of himself. Give him a poem.

some corner.

A middle-aged man with mischievous eyebrows was triumphant, and seemed to be quite satisfied with the price at which his calligraphy could be sold. This time, he would be able to brag among his peers when he returned this time.

The second auction is also a calligraphy. This time the handwriting is much better than the last one. It can barely reach the level of middle school students. As for the last time, it belongs to kindergarten, no, it is prenatal education level.

However, although the writing this time is a bit normal, the writing is not so... You will know what it is specifically after taking a look at the content.

The poem reads like this:

"One piece, two pieces, three or four pieces, five pieces, six pieces, seven or eight pieces. Nine pieces, ten pieces, and eleven pieces."

After reading the first three sentences, Han Shuo understood that he had seen this kind of doggerel before. There are many versions of the last sentence, either "flying into the grass and disappearing", or "flying into the reeds and disappearing", or "flying into the plum blossoms and disappearing". I don’t see you”, all in all, the function of this last sentence is to turn the garbage like the first three sentences into gold directly, and play the role of turning stones into gold.

He also looked up some interesting doggerel poems of this kind at the beginning, among which the one that impressed him the most, besides this one, two pieces, three or four pieces, there is another poem written in this way.

"Everything is beautiful, with lotus steps and beautiful looks. The red lips and cheeks are dewy, and the dots are plum blossoms."

Similarly, the first three lines of this poem sound very vulgar and bad, but the last line directly turns the first three lines into gold, and the artistic conception of the whole poem is also sublimated together.

Han Shuo sorted out his thoughts, and then read the fourth line of the poem. As a result, he was instantly stunned and speechless.

I saw that the fourth sentence clearly reads:

"Thousands of thousands of pieces and countless pieces."

"I'm going to your second grandma's. This shit is a poem made by a member of the Writers' Association? The poems written by elementary school students are better than him!" Han Shuo lost his balance and almost fell off his chair.

However, it was this poem that almost made Han Shuo fall off his chair, and the final transaction price was 20 yuan, which was double the price of the previous one!
When Han Shuo heard this number, he almost spat out a mouthful of old blood. At this moment, he was terrified. Fortunately, he didn't agree to the chairman to join the Writers Association, otherwise he would be ashamed.

The following auction items were all similar items, but they were all sold at high prices in the end.

In a charity auction, most of the items were bought by Tang Jianguo alone. Of course, he couldn't bear to look directly at those items, so he didn't open his mouth.

The money from the auction will eventually be used in the name of the auction to subsidize children in impoverished mountainous areas.

"Next, let's invite Mr. Tang, who has captured the most treasures, to speak." After the male host finished speaking, he took the lead in applauding.

At this time, a hale and hearty old man in a Tang suit with white hair stood up.

Although the old man's figure is not very tall, only about 1.7 meters, but when he stands there, he has an aura of domineering and domineering, but he reveals more kindness.

Across the crowd, Han Shuo looked at the old man who was walking towards the stage.

"I have done so many charitable works for the country, and I can die without regret. However, Tang has a small wish. Before returning to Thailand, can I invite the poets and writers who are working to give Tang wrote a poem, and the content of the poem was about his hometown and relatives. I wonder if anyone here can satisfy Tang’s little wish?" Elder Tang stood on the stage, speaking loudly However, there is an unconcealable sadness in it. A few years ago, the higher authorities allowed him to return to Thailand. He always went back once or twice a year, and he only spent a few days with his wife. Most of the time, he was on the mainland. spent.

And this time back to Thailand, he may never set foot on the mainland again.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help feeling a little sad.

The atmosphere fell silent in an instant, and most people frowned, thinking hard, thinking about poems about their hometown and relatives.

2 minute later.

Someone stood up.

"Old Tang, I made a poem, I wonder if it will satisfy you."

After saying this sentence, he directly read the content of the poem he wrote:
"what!

home!

I love you!
I love your beautiful pose!
I love your ageless temperament!

......"

Soon, he finished reading a poem.

After the others heard it, they kept nodding.

"This poem sounds very good, and the tone is passionate. It should arouse Tang Lao's homesickness. It seems that Tang Lao will accept this excellent work."

"That's right, this poem was written by Pei Jinsan, the chairman of Dongjing Reshi's Writers' Association. How can it be a defective product?"

"It turned out to be him, that's no wonder."

"What a beautiful poem!"

On the other hand, Tang Jianguo on the stage showed no expression, let alone made a sound. It seemed that he was dissatisfied with this work.

The poet shook his head in disappointment, dejectedly.

Afterwards, some people stood up and read their poems one after another, but old man Tang Jianguo still didn't change his face, as if none of their poems could touch the heartstrings deep in his heart.

Han Shuo looked around and thought, it looks like it's time for me to play. These so-called poets and writers are simply unreliable!

As soon as Han Shuo, who was at the back, stood up, he immediately became everyone's focus.

"Hey, where did this kid come from?"

"You don't even have full hair, so you dare to imitate grown-ups in composing poetry?"

"That's right. The chairman of the Writers' Association is always sitting in the front row. When he sits in the back row, the brat writes a fart poem?"

Seeing these so-called poets and writers, Han Shuo smiled disdainfully. Then, he took a deep breath and slowly recited a poem that was very famous in his world.

"When I was young,
Nostalgia is a small postage stamp,

I'm here, my mother is there.

When I grow up,
Nostalgia is a narrow ticket,

I'm here, the bride is there. "

Those who laughed at Han Shuo for not being able to compose poetry were immediately dumbfounded when they heard this beautifully rhymed poem.

The old man Tang Jianguo on the stage looked at Han Shuo, and something called Jingguang burst out of his pupils.

(End of this chapter)