Reborn Bao Guowei, I really didn’t want to be a great writer!

Chapter 1 Rebirth as Bao Guowei

In the 19th year of the Republic of China, it was the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month.

Wednesday, January 1930, 1.

There is a peaceful scene in Hangzhou. Two years after the success of the Northern Expedition, the brief peace has injected the vitality that it should have into this ancient city.

Among the bustling streets, rickshaw masters occasionally stop to look at the dazzling billboards on the shops.

But they will soon withdraw their attention. For them, all the prosperity has nothing to do with them. It is their business to run more to make a living and buy some decent New Year's goods before the New Year.

In a small, narrow house in the city, a young man was sitting in front of his desk and sighing.

This small house is sandwiched between two luxurious courtyards. The dilapidated and simple exterior walls have begun to fall off, and it looks older than the Republic of China.

Bao Guowei looked at the curled and yellowed books on the table, with a row of pencil characters crookedly written on the pages.

"Provincial Zhicheng Middle School, Grade 2, Class 2, Bao Guowei."

He exhaled a sigh of depression from his chest, but he couldn't help but complain.

"Damn it, how did you end up in this best person? A prodigal poor boy who dislikes poverty and loves wealth?"

I still know Bao Guowei in the movie "Bao and Sons". After all, people will be curious about movie characters with the same name and surname.

But for a time traveler, such a start would be too hellish.

Not to mention that Bao Guowei is already full of buffs. He is a prodigal son doted on by his old man, a follower behind a rich family, a scumbag who got five out of six subjects, and a fan of Stankian's oily hair.

The background of this era alone is not something ordinary time travelers can survive.

There are not only masters here, but also famine and death caused by natural disasters, military disasters and banditry.

The poor are ruined and their families are destroyed, and the rich are also in danger.

As an ordinary student whose abilities are not much better than Bao Guowei's, it's not that he doesn't want to change the country and achieve national rejuvenation, but such a goal is too far away for him now.

Ordinary people are just a grain of dust in the times.

With his shallow level of knowledge, if he could travel a few hundred more years, he might be able to deceive people from the Ming Dynasty and Song Dynasty.

But the Republic of China? Thank God for being able to remember what big events happened during this time.

After some struggle, Bao Guowei tore open the copy of "I See Pity" that the original owner loved so much, and took off the blank title page without any distress.

It took a lot of effort to find a sharpened pencil from the drawer. After carefully sharpening it with a kitchen knife, it took almost half an hour before I sat down in front of the desk with a sigh of relief.

Write a few lines of simplified Chinese characters neatly on the yellowed white paper.

"Target."

"The ultimate goal: make money! Make money! Make fucking money!"

At this time, the door was suddenly pushed open, the dark room suddenly became a little brighter, and a familiar voice came from the door.

"Guowei, are you back?"

The voice was gentle, a little old for his age, with a hint of surprise.

Bao Guowei raised his eyes and saw an old man wearing a shabby cotton robe and a gray felt hat standing at the door, his kind eyes narrowed together.

Isn't this Bao Guowei's father, Lao Bao?

But when he saw a thick piece of white paper with neat creases in Lao Bao's hand, Bao Guowei's heart suddenly skipped a beat.

White paper of this quality is only available for letters from provincial high schools.

Damn it! I almost forgot, this guy Bao Guowei has repeated a grade!

After the formal implementation of the 633 academic system, today's middle schools have been familiar with the three years of junior high school and the three years of high school.

Bao Guowei, a boy who failed in five subjects, liked to be named "Five Son Ding Ke". The accompanying gift was thirty-one yuan for school tuition and twenty yuan for school uniforms.

You must know that in Dayang during the Republic of China, one silver dollar was equivalent to 300 yuan of soft sister coins based on commodity prices. This did not take into account the productivity level at that time.

Bao Guowei's father, Lao Bao, as a senior housekeeper in the Qin Mansion, only earns seven silver dollars a month.

The tuition for this academic year is equivalent to Lao Bao's income for more than seven months.

Thinking of this, although all this was not caused by himself, Bao Guowei couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

He paused, then stood up and looked at Lao Bao outside the door and said.

"Dad, I can raise some money myself."

Lao Bao's originally squinted eyes opened wide and looked at his son in disbelief.

"What did you call me, Guowei?"

Lao Bao couldn't believe his ears. While he was overjoyed, he suddenly thought of something. He hurriedly walked over with a staggering step, grabbed Bao Guowei's shoulders, and pressed his rough hands on his forehead.

"You kid, you must be sick."

Bao Guowei couldn't dodge, and the corner of his mouth suddenly twitched after hearing these words.

I almost forgot that the original owner, this unfilial creature, has never used the honorific title of daddy since he was in elementary school.

In order to prevent unnecessary suspicion, Bao Guowei could only find his original familiar character. He shook off Lao Bao's hand, took a few steps back, straightened his wrinkled clothes and said.

"Old man, you're just sick, I'm fine!"

Seeing his son return to his familiar domineering appearance, Lao Bao's worried face immediately showed a smile.

"As long as it's okay, it'll be okay."

"Is everything okay? Are you looking for me? If you have anything to say, please tell me."

Bao Guowei crossed his arms across his chest, perhaps out of habit. When doing this posture, he felt extremely comfortable.

Lao Bao gathered up his sleeves and put his hands inside to keep them warm.

What I originally wanted to say to Bao Guowei could not be said. As long as he was fine and could continue studying.

But he still couldn't help but remind him.

"It's nothing. I'll take care of the money. It's not easy for you to get into this middle school. You have to fight for it!"

"I know, I know, it's so noisy!"

Bao Guowei waved his hand and then walked towards the door.

"Guowei, where are you going?" Old Bao stopped mid-sentence and turned to Bao Guowei.

"Come back early for dinner, and I'll ask Hu Da to leave some of your favorite egg soup for you tonight."

When he heard the words "egg soup", Bao Guowei suddenly lost his temper and wanted to escape from here as fast as he could.

But just halfway through, he thought of something and turned back, stretched out his hand to Lao Bao and said.

"Hey, give me three dollars."

"Ah? Why do you need so much money?"

Lao Bao, who was unsure at first, rubbed his hands hesitantly.

"This is not because the school has to teach according to the Western calendar, so I have to go to school during the Chinese New Year. I will buy some stationery."

"Okay, okay, I'll get it for you."

Hearing that he was buying some stationery, Lao Bao gritted his teeth and immediately did not dare to neglect. He walked to the bedside and took out a white cloth bag from the mezzanine at the head of the bed. He carefully opened it with black and dry fingers and took it out. Three silver dollars.

Bao Guowei, who couldn't wait, went over and grabbed three silver dollars. Before Lao Bao could open his mouth to speak, he ran towards the door.

Watching his son leave, Lao Bao opened his mouth, sighed after a while, carefully wrapped the cloth bag in his hand, and put it back on the bedside.

He could rest for two-quarters of an hour in the afternoon, so after Bao Guowei left, he planned to tidy up the house.

But when he turned around, he saw a piece of paper on the table, with a few lines of small words written on it.

Less than ten minutes later, Bao Guowei arrived on the streets of Hangzhou. He took a deep breath, trying to relieve his emotions.

Unexpectedly, I was choked by the pungent air and coughed, my face turned red from holding it in, and it took me a long time to calm down.

Looking at the bustling crowd, Bao Guowei weighed the silver dollar in his hand and couldn't help but sigh.

Lao Bao was a father who really had nothing to say except doting on his children. This made him, who had not experienced much fatherly love in his previous life, feel the warmth in his heart for the first time in a long time.

We can't go on like this. We must get money as soon as possible, not only to live a good life for ourselves, but also to give Lao Bao some comfort.

But when he thought of this, Bao Guowei was in trouble.

So far, there is no system sound in my mind. It seems that the systemless version is turned on.

Without a golden finger, I, an ordinary third-rate bachelor's degree student, would have reached the highest level of knowledge after the college entrance examination. I am not good at literature or martial arts. How can an ordinary person without any special skills earn his first-class salary in the wave of the times? What about a pot of gold?

If you have to talk about special skills, does it count as being able to read novels?

How about writing a Douluo Continent and fighting against the sky?

Will readers of this era accept it?

You know, the Republic of China was not like there were so many educated novice readers in the 21st century.

In this era, reading and literacy is still a luxury, and most readers are rich children, academics, and scholars who have read books.

I’m afraid it’s still a bit uncertain for online articles to gain their approval.

The most important thing is that even though I watched it four or five times, I still can’t remember every detail!

For example, it’s like the most classic part of Fighting to Break the Sky.

"

‘Strength of fighting, third stage! ’

Looking at the test

‘Xiao Yan, the power of fighting, third level! Level: Low level! ’

There were disdainful jeers all around.

"

Eh? !

and many more! !

How could I remember them all? ! !

(End of this chapter)