of course. I personally reviewed the graphic draft. I will try my best to fill in the deleted 311 words later to entertain the gourmets.

At that time, Jia Pingwa lived in a secluded mountain village and buried himself in writing The Waste Capital.

When reading novels, we are either fascinated by the uneven and tortuous story, or lament the ups and downs of the characters' fate, or admire this romantic high wind, or condemn evil instead of humanity, or reward the genius in their hands, or reveal the fat behind their buttocks. In short, fat intestines are interesting.

However, the process of a writer writing a novel is very boring. Boring, not enough to describe its embarrassing shape, simply boring!

barren hills, ruined walls, Mr. Pingwa exiled himself and lived in two small houses that seemed to fall down instead of falling down. The dirty wooden table was filled with barrels of instant noodles. When Mr. Ping is tired of writing, he will go out for two steps, look at the moon and stars, and listen to distant streams and birds passing by occasionally.

writing novels is a good way to torture yourself. Face yourself and torture yourself with the top ten tortures in the late Qing Dynasty until you hear the sound of heartbreak.

write, write and write. There seems to be nothing in Mr. Pingwa's sturdy body, like a piece of manuscript paper crumpled by himself. Bored to death.

Mr. Pingwa is a little at a loss. He wants to take a day off and come down the mountain to see the scenery. I happened to meet me chopping wood up the hill. I can't help it. As soon as I entered the door, he turned out the manuscript of "The Waste Capital" and asked me to "correct it". (Maybe it's because I have a chopping axe in my hand)

Light a cigarette (flat and respectful) and cross your legs to read the manuscript. (this tolerance is awesome! )

I made two comments:

First, the hero's name: Zhuang Harmony, Yes, Zhuang Harmony, Zhuang Harmony, Zhuang Harmony. However, it is better to change it to Butterfly of Zhuang, which is more attractive. Ping listened, repeatedly said it was kind, and offered a cigarette.

second, the most brilliant thing is to have sex with the moon. However, ordinary people, I'm afraid I can't stand this wonderful. Bian also has this worry. Later, when it was published, it was not passed, so it had to be changed to "Delete 311 words here."

from memory, I can probably make up all those "311 words". Of course, if you want to pass it, the key point is to rewrite it into classical Chinese. There is a kind of beauty in ancient Chinese, which is obscure in meaning but memorable:

"Snow-white skin is fresh and tender like a fresh bamboo shoot, and the condensed lard is as delicate as a match. It is as smooth as spotless satin. When she got up from the bathtub after taking a shower, she didn't even touch a drop of water. Her legs were slender and straight, her lower abdomen was flat and slightly concave, her twin peaks trembled, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were blurred, and the butterfly of Zhuang was dumbfounded. For a moment, she didn't know what to do! In a trance, I only felt a heat flow from the top of my head straight into the soles of my feet, and my whole body was hot and dry, and my eyes seemed to jet fire. With a blue waist, she "closed her eyes, cried and trembled". The butterfly of Zhuang hugged her tightly, but her plump body was weak and seemed to have no bones, like a white cloud in spring.