Chapter 51 So far?

Author: Potato Sweet Potato Pie

Chapter 51 So far?

Xia Yuan felt a little uneasy.

This uneasiness has a physical meaning.

Staying at the Jingcheng Inn these two days, people in the entire Jingli, in addition to talking about the provincial examination list, there are also many people talking about the novel they wrote silently.

Because there is a plot about Guo Jing and the Mongols, many people are scolding themselves.

Yesterday at noon, I took my daughter-in-law to a restaurant for dinner. There were some scholars at the next table. They were chatting happily.

One of them suddenly said: "I wonder if any of you have read a storybook called She Condor?"

"The Guo Jing there is actually the Mongolian Tatar's Prince Consort with the Golden Sword, or the thunder-trailing Anda. What do you think the person who wrote this story had in mind?"

"Hmph!" Someone snorted coldly, "It must have bad intentions, maybe he is a traitor who collaborated with the enemy and defected to the Tatars! If you let me know who the person who traveled through time was not mine, I will definitely eliminate the traitor for the country!"

Xia Yuan couldn't help but shudder.

Another person answered: "But the inner strength of martial arts and the grievances and grievances in the world are really fascinating.

And it can be seen that Guo Jing in it knows the justice of his family and country. Going to Peach Blossom Island to propose marriage is tantamount to abandoning his identity as the Golden Sword Prince Consort. There are very few descriptions of Mongolia. I think what Brother Liu said is too exaggerated."

Xia Yuan was moved. This elder brother was very sensible.

But soon I heard the man continue to say: "It's a shame that man didn't finish the book. I stayed up all night reading the last page, and found that it was unfinished.

This person is extremely hateful. He printed and sold the story before he even finished it. It’s just so appetizing that if I knew who the author was, I would beat him half to death!"

"."

This morning, Xia Yuan took Zhao Yuerong to the teahouse for tea. It turned out that there was a storyteller in the teahouse who was also talking about "Shooting the Condor". When he mentioned that Guo Jing was named the Prince Consort with the Golden Sword, many of the teagoers below couldn't sit still.

Already.

"This Guo Xiaotian was so heroic that he died to save his brothers, wife and children. He was so tragic and heroic. As a result, the son he gave birth to became the consort of the Tatars, which is disgusting."

"That storyteller, I saw that you look like a human being, but I didn't expect you to be so wiry and wiry. How could Guo Xiaotian offend you and be ruined by your arrangement?"

In ancient times, the national literacy rate was extremely low. Many people struggled to read a few Chinese characters. Coupled with the rise of the novel industry, the profession of storyteller was born.

However, storytellers nowadays can only read very few books, just a few books. Sometimes they even make up a story themselves, polish it, and then tell it in teahouses and restaurants to earn some money to support their families.

.

Therefore, many people think that the storyteller compiled it himself.

In response to this, the storyteller had no choice but to quickly clasp his fists and explain: "Everyone, I did not arrange these things. They are the plots in the storybook."

When the people below heard this, they turned their guns on the author of the storybook.

The teahouse was noisy for a while, and then the storyteller asked aloud: "Everyone, everyone, do you still want to listen to this book? If not, I will tell you something else."

"Go on, just listen to this."

"Yes, just listen to this."

He was scolded, but these tea guests all asked to hear this.

There was more than one such incident, and Xia Yuan was so punished that he no longer dared to go to those teahouses and restaurants.

At noon, he took Zhao Yuerong out of the inn and found a small shed on the side of the road.

This kind of small shed is equivalent to the roadside stall in later generations. In addition to being simple and simple, another feature is that it is cheap. The people who come here to eat are either poor people or down-and-out scholars.

These two types of people don't have the spare money to buy storybooks to read, let alone stand here and tell stories.

Now that Xia Yuan heard these discussions about "Shooting the Condor", he felt that one was as big as two, and the book seemed to be selling well. Many people knew about this book, but what about those court officials?

If those officials are suddenly idle, they go to the study and buy a copy of Shooting Condor, open it and read it, oh, this book is very courageous, and then run to read a copy.

Tsk tsk.

After ordering two bowls of noodles from the stall owner, Xia Yuan sat upright and glanced at Zhao Yuerong who was biting his chopsticks. He originally planned to take this girl to eat more good food while living in the capital, but unfortunately

Forget it, finish eating quickly, then go back to the inn and continue writing the book. Write out the plot of the breakup early, and save yourself from worrying all day long.

Zhao Yuerong was biting her chopsticks and looking around. She was very satisfied with this place. Such a simple place must be very cheap, but she liked anything that was cheap. It could save money.

When she went to restaurants and teahouses to eat in the past two days, she felt quietly distressed every time she went there, and did not dare to eat more.

Soon, two bowls of noodles were served. Xia Yuan took out his chopsticks and said, "Okay, eat quickly."

"Um"

Zhao Yuerong nodded, picked up a few noodles with her chopsticks that had a few small teeth marks on them, put them into her mouth, and asked vaguely: "Husband, when can we go home?"

Hearing this, Xia Yuan thought for a while and said, "Just wait a few more days, wait until I finish the novel and take it to the study to sell, and then we'll do it."

Just as he was talking, there was a dragging of chairs from behind, followed by the noise of people sitting down, and then an old voice said, "Store, cook us three bowls of noodles."

"You only need to cook three bowls for a group of people like this? Is this enough to eat?"

"Yes, Master, there are six of us, and three bowls of noodles are not enough."

"Just three bowls!"

It sounded like an old man brought a few apprentices to eat noodles, and then they were short of money. The six of them dug around and ordered three bowls, but the voice sounded so familiar that Xia Yuan couldn't help but look back.

, not only familiar to ears, but also familiar to eyes.

Hey, isn’t this a Bodhisattva?

I haven’t seen you for a while, why are you so embarrassed?
Chapter completed!