Chapter 1421 Fried Beef River

Spring passed and autumn came, and Zhang Heng had stayed in this manor for three years in the blink of an eye. As early as a year ago, his writing skills had been successfully upgraded to level 2, which was the same as the best-selling female fantasy author.

It has to be said that the environment of this manor is really suitable for practicing writing. After all, the opportunity to live with the best authors in the world can be said to be unique and unique.

Although these authors have more or less minor problems, such as Hemingway's alcoholism, Mark Twain's poisonous tongue, and Fitzgerald's dizziness when seeing women... But their talents cannot be denied. And the most important thing is that there is nothing else to do in this manor. They are also willing to answer Zhang Heng's various doubts and help him read his newly created articles.

That afternoon, Hemingway was reading a novella written by Zhang Henggang. After reading it, he put down the manuscript and frowned.

"How is it?" Zhang Heng asked.

"The technique is impeccable, and I have nothing more to teach you, but I always felt like something was missing when reading this article."

"Emotions." Fitzgerald on the side hit the nail on the head.

"That's right." Hemingway lit a cigar. "Although there are some schools that emphasize that narrators should maintain an objective perspective, this does not mean that there are no emotions in their articles, but they have placed these emotions in the book. It is up to them to show the creator’s emotions on each of the characters.”

Hemingway paused here, "Speaking of which, I've always been a little strange. When I first met you, I thought you were the kind of person who keeps your emotions and anger secretive. But after getting along with you for a long time, I found that you seem to be Have you really never been angry or particularly happy? Have you always been like this, with your spirit... rarely fluctuating?"

"Not all the time, I still had normal feelings before, although they were lighter than ordinary people, but because of certain things, my feelings gradually disappeared, and it became what it is now." Zhang Heng said.

"No offense, but if possible, I would pay to have what happened to you happen to me again." Fitzgerald said sadly.

Hemingway disagreed, "You can't write truly strong words without experiencing these fragile moments." After speaking, he looked at Zhang Heng again, "Your problem is troublesome. Although you only pursue rapid popularity, no matter what It is impossible for such a literary work to be devoid of emotion."

"It's not completely incomprehensible," Marquez on the other side interjected, "If it's just a popular book, just fake some emotions and add it in. Although this kid has no emotions, let him read more than a dozen books about emotions. He can also imitate cats and tigers in his novels.”

"Sorry, I may not have made it clear before. My new book is indeed pursuing rapid popularity, but there is another important point. I want readers to really believe the story in the book." Zhang Hengdao.

"A story without a sufficient emotional basis is difficult to convince people," said Fitzgerald. "After all, reading for entertainment is one thing, but truly impressing readers is another. You first need to invest yourself. Only if the emotion is in it can it resonate with your readers."

His words also aroused the approval of several writers present.

But then Hemingway patted Zhang Heng on the shoulder and said, "You don't have to worry. After all, there are so many of us here. We can help you come up with a solution if we work together."

…………

After returning from the author's party at Hemingway's side, Zhang Heng did not return directly to his room.

Instead, he turned around and came to the kitchen. After his writing skills were upgraded to lv2, Zhang Heng could clearly feel that it had become increasingly difficult to improve further. Otherwise, the best-selling female fantasy author would not have been able to reach lv3 after coming in for so long. .

This is not just about skills, it involves a writer's perception and refinement of his own life, and his views on the world around him. Zhang Heng does not lack experience, or to be more precise, there is no one in this manor who can compare to him. Hemingway's life experience is richer, and even the legendary Hemingway may not be able to compare with the excitement of Zhang Heng's copy.

However, refining and integrating these experiences into your own writing is not something that can be accomplished overnight, and requires a process of accumulation.

Zhang Heng was not in a hurry. After all, including his extra 24 hours, he only stayed in this dungeon for less than a third of the time. However, when his writing skills reached level 2, there were some things that he had temporarily put aside. But it can continue.

For example, the mysterious Room 515.

It is said that the most mysterious author in the entire manor lives there. No one has ever seen him leave his room, and even the windows in the room are usually tightly blocked by curtains.

For this reason, some people couldn't help but joke that there was an old vampire who lived there for hundreds of years. Everyone in the reasoning club firmly believed that the owner of the manor lived in that room.

After living in the manor for two years, Zhang Heng became more and more inclined to agree with their views.

The reason is simple, because Zhang Heng has already eliminated all other suspects, whether they are residents or service staff.

It's like you are doing a multiple-choice question. After eliminating all the wrong options, the remaining one, no matter how bizarre, should be the correct answer.

However, Zhang Heng had been turned away several times before. Strictly speaking, after he knocked on the door and reported his name and origin, there was no response at all, as if no one lived there at all.

So Zhang Heng decided to use another method this time. He walked into the kitchen and said to the head chef there, "I want to order a dish."

"Of course, the manor will meet the requirements of all guests." The chef said respectfully.

"I want to eat dry-fried beef river, but the dry-fried beef river I want is more special. I remember eating a bowl of beef river at a food stall when I was traveling in Guangdong. It was the most delicious beef river I have ever eaten. I want to eat Ushikawa that tastes like the one I ate that day.”

Faced with this obviously demanding request, the chef still seemed polite and said, "Okay, can you tell me the name of that food stall?"

"No, I've forgotten it."

Hearing this answer, the chef finally showed an embarrassed expression on his face, but he was still very respectful, "Okay, we can try it, but I'm afraid the number of attempts will be more, and you need to be in time. Give us feedback.”

"No problem." Zhang Heng said.

Two hours later, everyone in the kitchen was sweating from the toil. They gathered around Zhang Heng and watched nervously as he tasted the first bowl of oxhe.

I saw Zhang Heng picked up a piece of rice noodles with chopsticks, put a piece of beef into his mouth, closed his eyes and chewed slowly. After about ten seconds, Zhang Heng put down his chopsticks and nodded, " This is the taste."

Suddenly, the entire kitchen burst into cheers, as if the scientists in the institute had just solved a world problem.