Chapter 14 Outer part

One of the Myths of the Mayan Conquest On December 18th, I took a plane of Sichuan Airlines at 8:50 p.m. from Beijing, the capital of the great motherland, to Chongqing, the companion capital of the former motherland.I sat in row 19 C, near the aisle, and sitting next to me was a child about seven or eight years old and his mother.Due to my usual good deeds, the plane took off very smoothly. Fifteen minutes after takeoff, I stopped one of the most beautiful flight attendants and asked her politely if she could use a portable phone. After getting her consent, I turned on my computer and began to write the history of the Mayan conquest.

Things like writing articles must not take up vacations and free time. That kind of precious time is reserved for playing "Three Kingdoms Warriors" and "Civilization".It's sad that writing only makes sense when there's nothing else to do—like going to work or on a plane—when you're extremely bored.Fortunately, I'm not a stinky literati, so it's nothing. Typed the title of Chapter Eleven, wrote a few paragraphs, and then the little kid next to me found my computer.He had been looking around just now, and things like laptops were obviously very attractive to him.He sat by the window and couldn't see the screen clearly, so he pulled his mother's sleeve.His mother then said to him, "Uncle is working on the computer."

"It's brother!" I yelled angrily in my heart, and then stared at the screen pretending to be engrossed.At this time, it is best to remain silent. Seven-year-old boys are the scariest creatures on earth. They have curiosity, mobility, destructive power and the "Law on the Protection of Minors".If you talk to him rashly, the consequences will be disastrous. His mother turned her head at this moment, looked at the screen curiously, and asked, "Excuse me, are you writing a novel?" I hesitated for a moment, writing a novel is not a shame, but explaining to her what is the history of the Mayan conquest by the Yin Shang fleet is very unreliable.And how do I tell her who I am?A dead office worker working for the Gauls writing novels on a plane?This is so ridiculous and so embarrassing!To avoid trouble, I decided to tell my first lie of the day.It turned out afterwards that this was the first step towards my regret.

"Oh, no, it's data collation, and the company needs it." I answered her vaguely. The mother's curiosity was obviously not inferior to her son's. She pointed to the screen and said, "What kind of company is it? It looks like a novel, with characters and dialogues." I now understand the liar's plight, that in order to cover one's own lie one must tell a bigger lie. "It's a cultural company, a cultural company..." "What's the name of your company?" "Hmm... well, ah, it's not big, and it's not well-known. I just give them a part-time job. It's called Dragon Culture Company."

"Are you working on film and television scripts or something?" "Yes, yes, there is also business..." The lies continued to escalate, and my palms began to sweat slightly. She nodded thoughtfully, seeing me staring at the screen, thinking that I was going to work, she closed her mouth understandingly.In fact, I had completely lost my inspiration at that time, and all the brain cells were mobilized to weave new stories. Some people say that writing is actually a kind of exhibitionism, that is, the writer exposes himself to others.According to this analogy, the author is obviously undressed during the writing stage. I don’t mind running around naked, but if someone is watching while undressing, I will be very embarrassed, and then I can’t write anything.

The young mom, who stopped asking questions, was still staring at the screen, which made me fidget.If this situation is maintained along the way... It's terrible, disgusting!I don't follow! I suddenly thought of a solution, isn't she looking at my screen?Then I just write something that is extremely boring in the eyes of ordinary people to scare her away.So I started to skip narratives and narratives, and started with the political system of the Mayan civilization, and then deliberately repeated terms such as "legislation" and "separation of powers".These things are very boring, and I write them without using my brain, typing like flying.

"Oh, uncle, you type very fast." The little boy cried enviously. "Friend, call me brother." I shouted angrily in my heart, still maintaining the original speed.His mother asked, "Are you a professional writer? You can type so fast." "I played a lot, and I got used to it slowly." I replied. "What is this about? My eyes are dazzled and I don't quite understand it." She pointed to the WORD document and asked.It's a good sign that my tedious tactics are working.I was overjoyed, careless for a moment, and replied casually: "It's about history."

"Which country is the history of the Mayan civilization? Europe?" She saw that I always mentioned the Mayan civilization in those few paragraphs. "Oops..." I secretly groaned in my heart, this topic cannot be resolved in one or two sentences, and this topic must be blocked as soon as possible. "No, it's from South America. It's an offshoot of the migration route of Indian tribes in Papua New Guinea in the 13th century." This small counterattack was successful. She shook her head and said embarrassedly: "These things are so profound, I don't understand them."

"Hehe, this is my major." On the one hand, I was boasting, and on the other hand, I had to follow the lie I just made up.She turned her head and said to her son: "Look at how powerful uncle is, he studies history." "Call me brother!" I calmly pointed out their mistakes in addressing them in my heart, and at the same time touched my nose to see if it got longer. Then the stewardess was busy distributing tissues and drinks, which bought me ten minutes of free time.I can finally write something without distractions.The work during this period was fruitful. I finished the beginning of Chapter Eleven, conceived what to write in this chapter, and wrote the title "A Practical Case of Public Relations".

I should be able to come up with a more creative name, but I don't.Probably because of my background in marketing, I always hope to make the title more realistic. Unfortunately, just after typing the title, the little boy's mother saw it.Her eyes lit up, she pointed to these words and said, "Oh! So you are writing a lesson plan?" What else can I say... Can I really tell her that I'm just making a B-title for a bunch of spoof words?no way!So I just nodded, acquiescing to her guess. "Public relations? I've heard of this major. Are you a lecturer in a university?"

I continued to pretend to be dead, thinking that the lies had already been made up to this point anyway, so I just had to be ashamed to the end. "I heard it's not easy to make money in college now, so you're going to work part-time in a cultural company, right?" "........." I almost thought it was God’s inspiration to write a new article. If this continues, I will change from a North Korean writer in exile in Hong Kong to a university public relations lecturer working for a film and television company. God knows what I will become next. Fortunately, the lady obviously didn't really understand the theory of public relations, so the words "Maya", "Shang", and "public relations" were mixed together, and she didn't raise any doubts. Fortunately, unfortunately, I turned to the previous chapters of the document in order to check a detail.She saw the conversation between Commander Youhouxi and the Captain of the Hamazur Guard. Even a person with no literary knowledge would never take this as a serious public relations lesson written by a serious lecturer in a serious university. "Why do you still have novels in your lesson plans?" At this time, the little boy jumped out and asked, "Mom, what is a novel?" She kindly explained, "It's the story you like to hear. When a story is written in a book, it is a novel." "Then, uncle, are you writing a novel?" The little boy leaned over and asked me, his clear and bright eyes were full of desire for knowledge. "Uh...well, it's different...it's just for fun...uh, this is actually the company's request." "Wow, your company asked you to write historical novels?" the little boy's mother was surprised. I gently put the last straw on the camel's back of lies: "...sort of...just work." In the next moment, the camel full of lies crashed to the ground. She turned her head and said excitedly to some of her relatives and friends in the row behind: "Hey, hey, look, the university teacher is writing novels!" So a few more people's heads came from behind. 555555, so scary, I was surrounded by so many strange aunts.I can't turn off the computer with a bang, it will appear that I deliberately hide from others, which is impolite; I can't continue to write, in fact, my computer is completely out of state.I can't even switch to other work documents. The people next to me already know that I am a "university public relations lecturer and cultural company employee". The only thing I could do was to stop typing, Xue Yu Qiuyu put on a thoughtful expression of worrying about the country and the people, and pretended to be dead.The strange aunts then started asking questions. "The boss of our company still wants to publish an autobiography, how much will it cost to find someone to write it?" asked the first strange aunt. "Are you familiar with newspapers? Do you write news?" The second strange aunt asked in Chongqing dialect, holding the Chongqing Evening News issued on the plane. "You don't know, writing novels can make money now." Thankfully, the third strange aunt used declarative sentences. The nightmare lasted until I peed. I stayed in the toilet for ten minutes. When I returned to my seat, I took advantage of the computer to go into sleep mode.After the plane landed at Jiangbei Airport, I fled like flying, but I still heard a heart-wrenching sentence: "Goodbye, uncle." This story tells us that lying is wrong.