v4 Chapter 129： salon

Genius remembers the permanent address of this site in one second: www.81zw.us

Zhang Heng opened his eyes and found himself in a slightly dark alley.

At the end of the road is a small brick building with high buildings on both sides. It seems to be a certain age. Zhang Heng can only barely infer from the building materials and style that this is a building after the 19th century.

He did not walk in in a hurry, but looked around again and saw pedestrians passing by the alley, a hawker selling cigarettes, and a grocery store across the street. Just when he wanted to continue looking, the sky was Suddenly there was a sound of thunder, indicating that there will be heavy rain soon.

So Zhang Heng didn't stay in place anymore, and finally stepped forward to the small brick building.

The small building was much quieter than Zhang Heng had imagined. Only orange lights showed through the cracks in the door, and there was no noise.

Zhang Heng knocked on the door.

After a while, a middle-aged man with the appearance of a housekeeper poked his head out of the door, "What can I do for you?"

"I received an invitation to come here to participate in the salon." Zhang Heng paused when he said that, his gaze went around the middle-aged man who looked like a housekeeper and fell into the living room behind him, and found that it was empty and there were no guests.

"Sorry, did I come early?"

"No." The middle-aged man who looked like a butler smiled, "The salon has already started, but it's not here. Can I see your token of membership?"

"Membership token?" Zhang Heng frowned slightly. He had checked his pockets on the way here. Apart from the props he had brought, he didn't find anything extra, but Zhang Heng soon thought of something. , Took out the Conan Doyle pen.

The middle-aged man with the appearance of a housekeeper took the pen, put on his glasses, and examined it carefully, and then handed it back to Zhang Heng respectfully with both hands, "Welcome to the House of Genius, please follow me."

Zhang Heng followed the middle-aged man who looked like a housekeeper into the house. Then the two of them walked through the living room and into the courtyard. The middle-aged man who looked like a housekeeper opened up a murderous villain that looked like a horror movie when the main character was imprisoned. The kind of gloomy cellar I would use, and then made a please gesture.

"Seriously?" Zhang Heng raised his eyebrows.

"Don't look at me, bluffing and dramatization have always been authors' favorites." The middle-aged man with the appearance of a housekeeper shrugged. "To be honest, I have never understood this evil taste."

Hearing this, Zhang Heng looked at the big iron lock beside his feet again, and there was some red on it that looked like blood stains.

"Don't worry, the paint from ocher."

"Very impressive." Zhang Heng commented.

After speaking, he didn't hesitate anymore, and walked in in strides.

I have to say that although the atmosphere in front of the cellar door is very scary, the environment inside is actually pretty good, it's just slightly humid, but the air is smooth, and there is no peculiar smell except for some muddy smell.

For a tunnel, no more can be requested.

The two walked for about five minutes, and the terrain began to rise again. Then the middle-aged man, who looked like a housekeeper, stopped in front of an iron ladder and temporarily gave the oil lamp in his hand to Zhang Heng for safekeeping, while he pushed Opened the manhole cover above his head.

At this time, raindrops had already fallen in the sky, and the two returned from the ground to the street. As soon as they climbed out, Zhang Heng saw a carriage on the side of the road.

The middle-aged man with the appearance of a housekeeper took the oil lamp back from Zhang Heng's hand, "I can only accompany you here, and Martin will send you to the salon."

"Martin? Is this a stalk in "The Adventures of Goose Riding", what about you, I haven't asked your name before."

"Consell." The middle-aged man who looked like a housekeeper smiled, and then bowed again, "I sincerely wish you every day of writing and thinking."

"Twenty Thousand Miles Under the Sea" is really appropriate, thank you."

After saying goodbye to Consel, Zhang Heng boarded the carriage, and when he closed the door, the coachman Martin also grabbed the rein in his hand.

As soon as Zhang Heng got into the car and smelled the fragrance of jasmine, he became drowsy, but this kind of drowsiness is different from when he inhaled a lot of anesthetics. Zhang Heng knew that he could wake up at any time, which was more like It was a pastime prepared for fear that his journey would be too boring.

So Zhang Heng also relaxed, leaned his head on the carriage, and took a nap.

I don't know how long it took, and the carriage stopped again.

This time it stopped on a lawn. Martin opened the car door for Zhang Heng. What appeared in front of Zhang Heng was a huge mansion. The mansion was built in the middle of a mountain and covered an amazing area.

Zhang Heng only glanced briefly, and all he saw were garden courtyards, swimming pools, woods and even a golf course.

This time, a female housekeeper was standing in front of the gate to greet him, but she was very short, less than four feet tall, petite, with pointed ears, but with big feet, walking around. There is hardly any sound at all.

A name immediately appeared in Zhang Heng's head.

--Hobbit.

This is a fantasy race created by British writer and poet Tolkien in his "Lord of the Rings."

"It looks like you have recognized my origins, the most expensive guest," the hobbit steward said. "I just don't know how I should call you?"

Without waiting for Zhang Heng to speak, she immediately added, "You don't need to report your real name. Here everyone will call each other by their pen names or the names of the characters in their books."

"Zhang Heng."

The female hobbit steward heard a somewhat surprised expression on her face.

"Actually I am preparing a book This is the name of my new protagonist." Zhang Heng said lightly.

"Then I believe you will find a lot of inspiration here." The female Hobbit butler opened the door behind her as she said.

Before entering the door this time, Zhang Heng heard the messy sound coming from inside.

"Let me say, all popular, one book counts as one, it's all shit! The author of the popular is the dog that produces shit. The only thing they can do is to wag their tails and cater to the public without a bottom line. His aesthetic and deformed appreciation ability! It is because of their existence that the threshold of this line has been infinitely lowered." A high-pitched male voice said.

"I disagree, Mr. Bastard, the purpose of our writing is not to be an enemy of the public. I don’t deny that some of the excellent super-era works were seriously underestimated at the time, but you can’t just because you didn’t make any money during your lifetime. I hate those authors who make money." A strong female voice.

"Don't doubt, I'm talking about you, Professor McGonagall, what you wrote with you just proves what I said!"

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