noffsinger Chapter 140 Them
Chapter 140 Them
Ren Baozhi flipped through the pages again and came across literary works such as A Dream of Red Mansions, Legend, Little Women, Pride and Prejudice, and The Story of Hulan River.
Fiction.
Yes, it’s a novel.
If a woman still yearns for love, then she can start with love, but can she add some female autonomy on top of that?
Why do women in love always have their own way and are chosen by others?
If a woman still yearns for beauty, she can also start with beauty, but can a woman have more talents and abilities besides beauty?
Why can’t he be knowledgeable and capable?
The change of thinking is never achieved overnight, but is gradual.
What she needs to do is to attract women first, let them see a different life and a different woman, and then influence them little by little in a quiet and profound way.
Rich storylines and vivid characters always touch people's hearts. When reading novels, readers are more willing to put themselves into the characters in the book, feel the characters' complexity, struggle and growth, generate deep resonance, and then trigger readers' thinking.
Not only that, the more dramatic the story is, the easier it is to spread, which is why a myth can be passed down for a long time.
During dinner, Jiang Jingfeng noticed that Ren Baozhi's eyes frequently fell on her. She guessed that Ren Baozhi must have something to say to her.
So she ate a few mouthfuls of rice as quickly as possible and then hurried back to the house.
Her eyes fell on the desk in front of the window. The books and papers on it were neatly stacked, but the more Jiang Jingfeng looked at it, the more messy it seemed. It seemed that a few new dust particles had fallen on the corner of the table. She looked at it carefully again and found that the papers were not completely aligned and the ink on the tip of the pen was not completely washed off.
She quietly called two servants over, and after they entered the room, she closed the door and windows, and the three of them cleaned every corner of the house as quickly as possible.
Only when the room was finally spotless did Jiang Jingfeng nod with satisfaction, open the window, and let the two servants go down first.
She sat upright at the desk, picked up a book and started flipping through it, but she was thinking about someone and didn't pay attention to the words in the book at all.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching in the distance. Jiang Jingfeng immediately sat up straight, holding the book in his hand.
When Ren Baozhi passed by the window, she saw Jiang Jingfeng reading quietly.
The person reading the book was completely unaware of Ren Baozhi's approach, as if he was completely immersed in the world of the book.
Ren Baozhi stood quietly in front of the window for a moment, then slowly walked to the window, rested her chin on the window frame, and observed Jiang Jingfeng for a long time. Then she smiled and said, "Jingfeng, why don't you turn the page?"
Jiang Jingfeng's ears turned red and he hurriedly turned the page.
Seeing her like this, Ren Baozhi felt extremely fond of her. She then asked, "Jingfeng, are you waiting for me?"
Jiang Jingfeng's son was really at a loss at this moment. The blush had extended to her neck. She didn't dare to look up to meet Ren Baozhi's eyes. How could someone ask such a direct question? How should she answer?
Ren Baozhi supported herself with her hands, turned over and walked into the house, sitting on the chair next to Jiang Jingfeng.
Although this chair was specially prepared for Ren Baozhi, Jiang Jingfeng became more nervous when he saw her sitting so close to him, and he didn't know where to put his hands and feet.
She can now get along with others very naturally, but when she is alone with Ren Baozhi, she always feels nervous, but also full of joy.
Ren Baozhi stopped teasing her and took out a glass bottle from her arms: "This is for you."
"This... this glass bottle... give it to me?" Jiang Jingfeng stuttered.
Ren Baozhi smiled and nodded. "This glass bottle can be used to store ink. When Jingfeng goes out in the future, he can bring paper, pen, and ink with him so that he can record his thoughts at any time."
Jiang Jingfeng took the glass bottle, his face filled with excitement: "Can I try it now?"
"Of course, I'll grind it for you." Ren Baozhi picked up the ink stick on the desk.
"Then I'll add some water for you." Jiang Jingfeng quickly took over the conversation, took some clean water, and dripped a few drops into the inkstone.
Ren Baozhi held the inkstone with one hand and slowly ground the ink clockwise with the other: "I've wanted to give you this glass bottle for a long time, but I've been busy lately and it's easy to forget."
Jiang Jingfeng watched the clear water in the inkstone turn black. "No...it's okay. Baozhi doesn't need to explain. Anyway, I like anything Baozhi gives me."
She looked at Ren Baozhi and said seriously, "I really like it."
"That's good," Ren Baozhi smiled, not stopping her movements, "add some more water, and we'll grind more ink."
"okay."
The two of them didn't speak again after that. The sound of the ink stick and inkstone grinding seemed particularly quiet under the dim light.
After Mo Yan finished, Ren Baozhi rubbed his wrist and said, "Jingfeng, I have something to ask you."
Jiang Jingfeng took Ren Baozhi's right hand and gently massaged it: "What's the matter?"
Ren Baozhi lowered her eyes to look at the place where their skin touched, and asked, "My mother told me earlier that you were writing an article. How is it going?"
Jiang Jingfeng took out the thread-bound book that Ren Baozhi had given her and handed it to her: "You can take a look."
Ren Baozhi flipped through the pages of the book. Every time she turned a page, she could clearly see the changes in Jiang Jingfeng's mood from the text.
The initial writing was neat, mostly poetry and songs.
Gradually, the handwriting became sloppy and unrestrained. It was neither like poetry nor prose. Ren Baozhi could not tell what Jiang Jingfeng had written.
Every word was extremely glaring, like a ball of painful flame, which seemed to be able to burn and ashes people.
She no longer wrote poems under male dogma, she wrote about herself.
Ren Baozhi couldn't help but look up at Jiang Jingfeng. She was now sitting next to her, smiling at her calmly.
Ren Baozhi couldn't help but continue flipping through the book, but the burning anger in the book didn't last long.
After turning a few pages, Jiang Jingfeng's handwriting gradually became calmer, but not as neat as it was at the beginning.
These words are smooth, elegant, and graceful, like wind and water.
Ren Baozhi knew that when Jiang Jingfeng wrote one word after another like this, he finally broke free from the rules and regulations that weighed on him.
She found herself and a literary genre that suited her better, so her handwriting also turned into a gurgling stream, calm, clear, and endless.
She writes about vivid people one after another, including every member of the woman's family.
Some are cooking, some are printing, some are playing with dogs, some are crying, some are angry...
They have all kinds of strange postures and different forms, and they are extremely vivid women.
The women in the article are no longer the ones who have been scrutinized by men. The women here are no longer anyone's wives, and they are no longer anyone's vassals.
They are mother and son, they are sisters, they are shopkeepers, they are doctors, they are writers...
Their friendship is no longer fragile, insidious, and full of intrigue, and their friendship will not be easily broken by a man.
They are not sometimes stunningly beautiful and sometimes hideously ugly. They are not pure saints, nor are they despicable witches. In Jiang Jingfeng's writing, they are just themselves.
Simple, ordinary, and full of vitality.