Chapter 55: You Don’t Meet Unless You Are Enemies!
Chapter 55: You Don’t Meet Unless You Are Enemies!
Before noon.
Beijing Radio Station.
The auditorium at the top floor was filled with people. Many anchors and staff from the various channels had arrived. All segments had made way for today’s Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meet.
Zhang Ye had a stomach ache as he squatted on the toilet at the top floor. It might be due to having eaten too many instant noodles during the past few days. Even an Instant Noodle Hero would have times when he could not cope, for his stomach would also revolt. As he was squatting while doing his big business, he surfed the internet on his cellphone. He realized that the station’s Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet had been publicized greatly. Not only was the publicizing in full swing on the radio station’s website, it was also advertised on large message boards and other portal websites. Today was a public holiday, so most people were resting at home as they spent the festival with their friends and relatives. Noon was when people were gathered together to have lunch and chat. As they would be idle, listening into the poetry meet was a good choice. It was a very wise choice for the radio station to choose this time slot for the poetry meet.
There was a lot of discussion on the internet, with numerous messages posted.
"Poetry Meet? Great!"
"I must listen to it!"
"Last year, the one that the Jinshi Radio Station organized was not bad. There were many good poems."
"Ha. This year will be even better. Didn’t you see that so many Teachers are coming from the Writers’ Association? I guess that there will be at least one classic Mid-Autumn poem."
There were also people who heard of yesterday’s Weibo war of words, or people who knew about Zhang Ye.
"Eh? Meng Dongguo? A person who writes fairy tales like Little Red Mushroom is also going? The namelist also includes Big Thunder? Those poets who looked down on Teacher Zhang Ye?"
"Haha! There will be something to see!"
"Right. I remember that Zhang Ye works at Beijing Radio Station, right? Today’s Literature Channel will also be broadcasting it? Teacher Zhang Ye will also be there too, right?"
"That’s right. They will meet each other!"
"To think that they were scolding each other yesterday, but now they are meeting today. You really don’t meet unless you are enemies!"
"Will Teacher Zhang go on stage to recite a poem? I’m slightly looking forward to it!"
"I don’t know. His name isn’t on the namelist. It’s all people from the Writers’ Association!"
There were supporters of Zhang Ye’s poems, and naturally, there were even more who were fans of Meng Dongguo and the other Teachers. They were people who did not agree with Zhang Ye’s prowess in literature!
"All of you are still not convinced? Still speaking against Zhang Ye?"
"Ignore those people. There’s no way of getting through to them. It will only be troll bait!"
"Zhang Ye’s name is definitely not on the namelist. Yesterday, the Teachers have already made it clear. This person is a demagogue. How is he able to write poems? At such an important event as this important Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meet, letting Zhang Ye go onstage would be a joke, since it’s a live broadcast. His poems can deceive those who aren’t knowledgeable. Those who are knowledgeable will just laugh silently at him, before letting others laugh their heads off."
"Hurhur. I don’t think Zhang Ye will dare to go up, even if he was asked to!"
"That’s right. Don’t talk big when you don’t have what it takes!"
"I’m actually hoping that Zhang Ye will go on up. Previously, there was no comparison to let others know his true self. But with so many Teachers present, it will let everyone know what a true poem is. That crappy poem of Zhang Ye’s will reveal its true colors. Let the Teachers teach the junior!"
"Support!"
"What sort of crap is Zhang Ye!?"
"This person is just an empty vessel. I’m guessing that he will definitely not go onstage. Have you seen the words Zhang Ye uses to curse? Your sister! As a cultured person, as a poet, how can you curse at others in this way? He doesn’t have the temperament of a cultured person at a glance. The Teachers are right in questioning him. He can’t write poems!"
Basically, they were all people who questioned Zhang Ye. He did not carry on reading as he left the bathroom.
People who were invited were important figures. Seeing that the poetry meet was about to begin, the station’s Leaders and the invited guests from the Writers’ Association began walking in.
Zhang Ye happened to meet them at the door.
Deputy Station Head Jia smiled as he led them inside, "President Meng, this is our auditorium. I remember that you have come here the year before?"
Meng Dongguo was a forty- to fifty-year-old plump man. He had quite a lot of hair and was not suffering from balding. He
Deputy Station Head Jia seemed to have a good relationship with him, "Haha. Come on. I’ve already lost so much hair. I think you are the one as energetic as ever."
At this moment, a group of young ladies from the station piled forward the moment they saw them!
"Teacher Meng! You are Teacher Meng, right?" a 20-year-old girl asked excitedly. She had rushed forward, despite her work to guide the line outside. "I’m your fan. I especially like your poems. My mom frequently recited your poems to me when I was young. I really grew up listening to your works. Aiyah! I’m too excited, too excited. You, you… Can you give me an autograph?"
Deputy Station Head Jia waved his hand, "The meet is almost about to start."
However, Meng Dongguo said, "It’s alright, old Bro. Giving an autograph doesn’t take much time. Here, young lady."
The girl got the autograph as she wished, before leaving happily.
Seeing Meng Dongguo being so friendly, immediately, a few girls and youths came over to get his autograph.
There were a few people who ran to the back and ignored if the Leader was agreeable to it. They found their own idols and Teachers they liked, so that they could get their autograph.
"Auntie Little Red Mushroom! You, I, can I get your autograph? I grew up listening to your fairy tales. I really like you!" a youth said submissively.
Little Red Mushroom was a bit plump, but she was dressed very prettily. She said in a nice way, "Sure. Where do I sign?"
"Teacher Big Thunder!" Another person came forward, "Your poem has always been on my cellphone’s home screen. Can I take a picture with you? Just one would do!"
Big Thunder was a big, stout man from the northeast. His accent was heavily northeastern. It was written in his personal information that he was from Beijing, but he might have grown up in the northeast. "That wouldn’t be a problem! Here!"
Autographs, pictures together.
The Teachers from the Writers’ Association received quite a lot of praises from onlookers. It was no wonder, as they were very famous in Beijing. Since the Beijing Radio Station was broadcasting in the regions around Beijing, it would also broadcast their works occasionally. Hence, the staff were no strangers to these Teachers. Some even idolized them.
Big Thunder? Meng Dongguo? Little Red Mushroom?
There were still about a dozen people behind them. Hearing the fans shout, it seemed that there was also the romance author, Zheng Anbang?
Weren’t these people those who had scolded him yesterday? Hei, alright. All of them came?
Zhang Ye stared deeply at all of them as he remembered all their faces. Suddenly, someone shouted at him from behind.
"Teacher Zhang Ye. Aiyah, I’ve finally found you. I reserved a seat for you. Our Literature Channel’s seats are in the middle of the back row. Let me bring you over." a youth who had just joined the Literature Channel said.
"Alright, let’s go." Zhang Ye followed him into the auditorium.
Zhang Ye?
He is that Zhang Ye?
Upon hearing this, Meng Dongguo, Big Thunder, Little Red Mushroom and company all looked over.
Big Thunder was still confused over the situation. He did not have much of an impression of this name. Seeing Meng Dongguo and company’s expression, Big Thunder finally remembered the name, as he asked, "Which Zhang Ye? The one who wrote the so-called modern poem?"
Little Red Mushroom said, "Should be."
Deputy Station Head Jia confirmed, "Yes, it’s him. Why?"
Big Thunder said, "He works at the radio station? I just learned about that."
Zheng Anbang said to Deputy Station Head Jia, "It’s nothing, Station Head Jia. We just happened to comment about him yesterday on the internet. He completely can’t write poems, and things he writes cannot be considered literature. President Meng wanted to advise him as a senior, but he ended up unhappy about it. He was not modest at all, and even wrote a poem to retort. What would you call this matter? President Meng and us had good intentions, wanting to teach him, but he was ungrateful. He treated our kindness as dirt!"
Deputy Station Head Jia was enlightened as he laughed, "Zhang Ye is just a newcomer. He can be considered not bad when it comes to writing ghost stories, but as for composing poems… How can he compare to all of you? Hurhur."
Meng Dongguo shook his hands, "Let’s not talk about him, old Bro. Let’s go in?"
"Let’s go. It’s about to begin." Deputy Station Head Jia and a few smaller Leaders in the station led them in. They sat in the first row.
The surrounding people looked at each other.
"Did you see Zhang Ye’s Weibo yesterday?"
"I saw it. I never expected them to meet today!"
"I think that something is going to happen. Who doesn’t know what sort of temper Teacher Zhang Ye has? When has there ever not been something happening when he’s around? Hopefully, they don’t end up fighting."
"I doubt it. I don’t think it will be as bad as fighting."
"Cultured people tend to scorn each other. People from the Writers’ Association insisted that Zhang Ye doesn’t know literature. And with Teacher Little Zhang’s personality, it would be a wonder if he could endure it. What sort of person is Teacher Little Zhang? He is a person who would even curse at his colleagues. He is a person who doesn’t give face to the station’s Leader. Watch and see. I believe that today will not end peacefully."
In the radio station’s other channels, Zhang Ye was currently quite famous. Everyone knew him, so once the situation was understood, they had a feeling that a storm was about to brew.
…
In the middle of the back row of the auditorium.
Zhang Ye sat at his seat. To his left was Wang Xiaomei, and to his right was Wu Datao. He had bad relations with Wu Datao, so they naturally did not speak. Wang Xiaomei was well-known to be quiet, and seldom exchanged words with Zhang Ye; hence, Zhang Ye only looked down at his cellphone.
And of course, the cellphone’s reception wasn’t good.
It might have been due to the good sound isolation of the auditorium, which also blocked out the reception.
Zhang Ye only managed to go on the internet after trying a few times. The judging interface of the radio station’s Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meet indicated that it had already begun. There were quite a lot of listeners and people from all walks of life publishing their works. Some wrote ancient poems, while some wrote phrases. Some were modern poems, and some were original song lyrics that were relevant to the Mid-Autumn Festival. There was no prize for this meet, but there was glory to it. If you could gain any spot in the top three, it would cause your fame to rise sharply in the industry. Hence, there were many people who participated.
However, the content was nothing flattering.
"The moon, my moon, you are so beautiful…"
"Mid-Autumn Festival, families eat mooncakes. Finishing one, eating another one."
Zhang Ye nearly cried tears seeing this. The voting process had already begun, but even the number one voted poem was average. The quality was not high.
Dong.
The doors to the auditorium closed.
The last signal bar on the cellphone disappeared. There was no way of going on the internet, so Zhang Ye kept his phone in his pocket. He was pondering how he could correct his reputation!
My poems aren’t good?
My poems have no literary value?
This was not denying Zhang Ye, but denying the famous masters of his world. Zhang Ye felt amused for them. This was only happening in this world. If it was switched to Zhang Ye’s world, would Meng Dongguo and company dare to question these poems? They would only be beaten to death if they did!