Chapter 1318: Hold the Literary Grand Prix
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Entertainment Guru Rebirth
- A romantic leaf
- 1369 characters
- 2021-03-03 07:37:13
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Hearing Xiao Yunhai’s words, Zhang Xuanlin’s face suddenly glowed red, saying: "Mr. Xiao passed the award. My old man initially regarded you as an unlearned businessman and entertainer. Later, I saw your three works. Only then did I know that I was dim-eyed. Ha ha, ashamed."
"Old Zhang, what makes you ashamed." The person here was Wang Huatao, who was with Zhang Xuanlin.
Zhang Xuanlin said: "What else can it be? Of course Mr. Xiao wrote the work. Do you think you can match it?"
Wang Huatao smiled bitterly: "It's not comparable. Especially the "Madman's Diary" is as sharp as a knife. I was sweating profusely."
Xiao Yunhai hurriedly said, "Ms. Wang passed the award."
The three of them laughed at each other and stood together and talked freely.
Wang Xichen next to him felt a little embarrassed, because they were talking about the future development of Chinese literature, and he was a little bit unable to intervene.
This made Wang Xichen, who originally had some opinions on Xiao Yunhai, even more dissatisfied.
Xiao Yunhai naturally ignored Wang Xichen's thoughts.
"Two teachers, do you feel that the development of Chinese literature has reached a bottleneck period. Although everyone still attaches great importance to it, there are fewer and fewer good works, and it seems that there is some weakness in the future."
Hearing Xiao Yunhai's words, Wang Xichen finally had the opportunity to interject, and said, "Mr. Xiao, are you too pessimistic? In my opinion, it is now a literary age where a hundred schools of thought are contending and a hundred flowers blooming. How can it be unable to succeed."
Xiao Yunhai shook his head and said: "Mr. Wang, you only see the superficial phenomenon. The reason for this illusion is only because of the false prosperity caused by the emergence of Internet works. Let's just talk about this awards ceremony. You have I did not find that there are only two finalists under the age of 40 except you and me. All the others are over the age of 40. This phenomenon is very bad."
Zhang Xuanlin said: "Mr. Xiao is right. I have also been worrying about the development of Chinese literature. The reason why I strongly oppose the Internet fast food culture is to worry about poisoning the next generation. Those works can be said to have no literary value, but unfortunately The thing is that I have no way to make readers notice our traditional literature."
Xiao Yunhai smiled and said, "This is the role of propaganda. Teacher Zhang, I can tell you an immediate method."
Zhang Xuanlin's eyes lit up and said anxiously: "Mr. Xiao, please speak."
Xiao Yunhai said confidently: "The reason why online literature can quickly become popular is that it has a low threshold and can be written by anyone, and more importantly, it can give those online writers a huge income. In case it becomes popular, You can support them for a lifetime. In that case, why don't we use their methods. If you become a traditional literary writer, you can still bring you a huge income. How many famous families will emerge in China?"
"In view of this, I would like to hold an annual literary competition for young Chinese writers under 35 years old. Each literary form has four grand prizes: the first prize, the second prize, the third prize and the excellence prize. One prize, five million Chinese coins, three second prizes, two million each, six third prizes, one million each, and outstanding awards for fifty to one hundred people, ten Ten thousand. I believe that this will definitely attract many people to participate. Our traditional literature will naturally be able to succeed."
Zhang Xuanlin was shocked and said, "Mr. Xiao, if you follow your method, you will need to pay 150 million Chinese currency every year for this game alone. You..."
Xiao Yunhai laughed and said, "You forgot, I am the richest man in the world. One billion eight hundred million is not in my eyes, let alone this little money. This is also my contribution to the development of Chinese literature. Right. However, I want to tell you in advance that the money is okay, but the competition will be organized and reviewed by the Chinese Literature Association. This workload is probably not small."
"This is a trivial matter. We have tens of thousands of literary students from major colleges and universities to help, so there will be no problem. Mr. Xiao, you are so generous, and I am grateful to my old man. On behalf of the Literary Association, I thank you."
After that, Zhang Xuanlin actually wanted to bow to Xiao Yunhai, so scared that Xiao Yunhai quickly held his shoulders, and said: "Teacher Zhang, you must not be like this, I can't stand this."
When the writers who were chatting in the meeting saw this scene, they all looked at the past, their surprise was beyond words.
"What's the matter? Are my eyes blurred. Why would Teacher Zhang bow to Mr. Xiao?"
"I must have hallucinations, this is too unscientific."
"What is the reason for Teacher Zhang to do this?"
Everyone was whispering there.
The reporters naturally wouldn't let this picture go, and the flash came on with a crackle.
The award ceremony held by the Huaxia Literature Association has always been highly valued by the country. Every year, leaders from the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Education will come to participate, and the Science and Education Channel of CCTV will also broadcast it live.
This time, Liang Qianqiu, Minister of Culture, and Fu Lianping, Vice Minister of Education, were here.
As soon as the two of them walked into the venue, they saw Zhang Xuanlin bowing to Xiao Yunhai. They stopped and glanced at each other. They both saw the surprise in each other's eyes.
Fu Lianping, who was a student of Zhang Xuanlin, knew his temper very well, and said: "It seems that Mr. Xiao Yunhai should have done something that is very beneficial to the Chinese literary world. Otherwise, the teacher would definitely not be like this. "
Liang Qianqiu said: "Go, let's go over and ask what is going on?"
The two of them walked forward and greeted Zhang Xuanlin and Wang Huatao. After being polite, they asked about what happened just now.
Hearing that Xiao Yunhai would hold the Chinese Literature Competition every year, Liang Qianqiu laughed and said, "Teacher Zhang, you don't have to thank him too much. This kid can't spend much money now, let alone 100 million, even 10 billion a year. , He can still take it out."
Xiao Yunhai smiled bitterly: "Uncle Liang, you are meaningless. How can I say that this is also a contribution to the development of our Chinese literature, how did it change your taste? It seems to be my beg You are helping me spend money."
"Hahaha."
When everyone heard it, they couldn't help laughing.
At eight o'clock, the party officially began.
The two presenters stepped onto the stage and made an opening remark, and said: "In the past four years, our Chinese literature has developed vigorously, and a large number of outstanding literary writers have emerged. Next we enter the awarding session. The first one. The award is the best book award. A total of 32 works were shortlisted. After more than 300 literary figures, the third-class writers were Wang Yuzhi's "Spring Rain Collection" and Lang Yudong's "Flying South Poems" "And Chen Yadong’s "Unforgettable Novels", three teachers are invited to come to the stage to accept the award."
Amidst the applause and applause of everyone ~EbookFREE.me~, the three of them came to the stage to accept the award, and then each sighed with emotion, and then walked off the stage.
Although Xiao Yunhai followed everyone's applause, he felt bored in his heart.
"It's no wonder that the ratings of the previous China Literature and Art Awards Ceremonies are so low? There are no laughs, and no good-looking programs. It's strange that the ratings can be high."
When Xiao Yunhai was slandering in his heart, Wang Xichen, who was next to him, won the first place in the best book award with "City and Country".
The acceptance speech was also meaningless, and Xiao Yunhai was a little drowsy.
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