1979: My fiancée is a goddess

Chapter 389: Writing to Atone
March 8th, Women’s Day, in the quiet late night of this spring.

The late night sky was a large piece of clear natural black jade, and the moon was a translucent jade hook, obscured by sparse gauze clouds.

It has the beauty of a beautiful woman with a veil brushing her face, still holding the pipa.

In a small courtyard in the corner of the ancient capital.

The neighbors have all fallen asleep. The men's thunderous snoring can be heard through the ventilation gaps in the doors and windows. The coarse cloth door curtains and tender green leaves in the kitchen are swaying in the wind.

The courtyard was quiet and dim.

Only in the north corner, soft light flowed out from the lightly closed window and dripped into the mossy ditch, and there seemed to be a clear and quiet sound spreading like ripples.

The young man in the room was leaning over the desk, his handsome face showing a focused and pious expression. The pen in his hand was like an artist's paintbrush, painting the most beautiful art in his heart.

The blue ink under the pen tip seemed to be mixed with clear well water, and the written words were as light as the handwriting.

It is so faint that it seems as if it will seep into the paper and disappear as soon as it is written.

Cheng Kaiyan wrote the word "atonement" without stopping, his lips moving slightly as he silently recited:

"The novelist has absolute power to decide the ending. Isn't she God?"

……

"Any love that is not based on reason is doomed to fail!"

Cao Hanyu quietly turned her back to the door. A drop of sweat on her cheek slid down her tender and slender neck, adding more strength to her clothes that had already been soaked. Finally, she wrote the last sentence of the script.

"Clap!"

His hand loosened weakly, and the pen fell onto the paper, leaving a few small ink marks.

The girl was very excited and looked up at the scenery outside the window, trying to calm herself down.

She is always so calm and self-disciplined, and she deeply dislikes anything that does not conform to the order in her heart.

What comes into view is the green vegetation all over the mountains, the gloomy dark clouds, the continuous rain, the dull rolling thunder...

Everything happened like a baby being born, landing in the garden at the foot of the mountain adjacent to Shanghai.

It takes one completely off guard.

In Cao Hanyu's impression, summer in his hometown is always so humid and hot.

Even with the window open, the air was still filled with a stuffy and humid heat, like being in a sauna. She had been to a sauna on the Bund in Shanghai several times last winter with her mother and sister, so she had some impression of it.

However, Cao Hanyu was not like an ordinary girl who was immediately defeated by the humid and sultry summer after writing the drama script, and collapsed in her chair as if she was unable to bear the grace.

The tender and slender girl still maintains an upright and elegant posture.

As she was immersed in the world of fantasy, her delicate and beautiful oval face flushed with excitement.

This script, titled "Lianxiang Ji", was completed by Cao Hanyu in two days. For this, she even missed a portion of Western desserts that her brother Mingzheng brought back from a Shanghai restaurant.

In addition to the script, she even designed the posters, programs, and tickets for the performance, and even used two discarded wooden boards to make a ticket booth in front of the theater...

Everything is ready, just waiting for the handsome and dissolute eldest brother to come home, and the distant cousins ​​who come here to spend the summer vacation.

After sitting quietly for a while, she calmed down and went to look for her mother expectantly and calmly, holding the nine-page script.

"Tuk tuk..."

Came to the door and knocked.

"Is it Hanyu?"

My mother, Mrs. Cao, spoke in a mature but slightly hoarse voice.

"It's me. I've finished writing my script and I brought it here for you to read!"

Cao Hanyu responded loudly that her mother was the apple of the eye of a county magistrate's family in the Qing Dynasty. She was very intelligent since childhood and had studied abroad, where she acquired a lot of knowledge and culture. She was very familiar with Western affairs, so it would be no problem for her to read the script.

"come in."

Cao Hanyu received the order and then entered the house quietly. Her mother had an incomparable status in her heart. She admired and yearned to become a noble lady like her mother. Her mother had a precious library of her own, which contained many foreign literary works, all of which were purchased from various channels and thousands of miles away from abroad.

Mothers are generally not allowed to enter.

But Cao Hanyu often read books with his mother in the library.

As a result, I was exposed to many classic Western masterpieces and learned and absorbed a lot of knowledge and ideas.

Cao Hanyu particularly loved the works of Jane Austen, but unfortunately there were only two copies in her huge library. Her second favorite was the works of Mr. Shakespeare, especially his plays and tragedies.

The next is the work of Samuel Richardson. In addition to writing plays, Cao Hanyu spends the rest of his time reading his work "Clarissa".

With thoughts flashing through his mind, Cao Hanyu entered the room. The room, which was decorated in Western European classical style, was dimly lit, with only a sapphire green lamp behind the sofa on.

The dim green light fell on an intellectual and elegant woman, who was wearing a silk gauze dress. Through the light, one could faintly see the forbidden bright red gold silk undergarment and the snow-white, voluptuous body behind the thin gauze.

"Woo..."

Cao Hanyu blushed at just one glance and kept her eyes fixed on her mother's face, not daring to look again.

"Mom, I have finished writing my script, can you help me take a look?"

Seeing that her mother continued to read the book and ignored her, she pouted and subconsciously revealed the coquettishness and anger of a young girl.

This is rare for her.

"Haha, let me have a look."

Mrs. Cao closed the book, smiled quietly, and said lightly.

Cao Hanyu handed it over, and Mrs. Cao looked at it. Her pretty face sometimes showed joy, sometimes frustration, sometimes sadness, sometimes anger, and she nodded from time to time to express her affirmation.

The girl watched in silence, her heart pounding at the sight.

Isn’t her work “Lianxiang Ji” such a work full of ups and downs and emotions?
It tells the story of the heroine Lianxiang, who eloped with a nobleman regardless of the consequences and fled to a seaside town in the south. On the way, Lianxiang contracted smallpox and fell ill in a small attic. Almost everyone abandoned her, even her lover.

But when she was dying, a young and poor doctor saved her.

But in fact, he is a prince of a certain palace, who specializes in hiding his identity and curing diseases and saving lives.

The prince cured her illness and they lived happily together.

Thinking of this, Cao Hanyu went over and hugged his mother and sat down, holding her arm tightly, waiting for her evaluation.

"Not bad! Really good! Let me think... Hanyu, you are really amazing. I want to see it appear in the literary magazine founded by your aunt Qingqian!"

Mrs. Cao picked up her daughter's light little body, placed her on her lap and praised her with a smile.

"yeah!"

Cao Hanyu left and returned to his room, curled up on his little bed, looking at the dark clouds and heavy rain outside the window and feeling the sudden wind.

The girl fantasized about her future brother with great pleasure. Her sister said in front of a group of fashionable and elegant young men and women, "My sister is the great writer Cao Hanyu, you must have heard of her."

What she didn't know yet was that this was already the most successful moment of her play.

All other fantasies are false and will not bring her any glory, and may even make her feel guilty for the rest of her life.

……

"The novelist is God? So how can a novelist achieve redemption?"

“…atonement requires forgiveness from a higher authority, but the novelist himself is that authority.”

“All the novel can do is show that it understands it all: it can imagine it all. Only imagination can do it justice.”

Cheng Kaiyan drew brackets, wrote down his thoughts in them, and fell into deep thought.

There are still some problems with this beginning, so he plans to show it to his teacher and let him take a look.

(End of this chapter)