I met Zhuang by chance and heard that he is a freelance writer, wandering in Tsinghua and Peking University, insisting on selling his own books. I watched a documentary video about his life through an online link sent by a friend. In the video, he is small and thin, dragging a box full of works every day and rushing to the gate of Peking University to sign books in the morning. The crowds at the gate of Peking University, the tourists who come here, the teachers and students who come in and out will always be an endless stream. Zhuang Ku silently spread out his works, silently preserved books that condensed his painstaking efforts and talents, and looked forward to watching people come and go. When someone stopped to browse, I saw that Zhuang's eyes clearly showed hope and joy; When someone readily bought his work, he stood up and picked up a pen, carefully brushing his name on the title page. The font is strong and full of pride. More often, he is ignored by people who go to Peking University, a world-famous institution of higher learning. The video seems to record Beijing in late autumn. At the beginning of the cold, the autumn wind danced and the leaves fell on the cover of the book. It seems to be the ordinary daily life of a freelance writer that Zhuang chews a few mouthfuls of dry food in the cold wind, sticks to his battlefield, waits from dawn to dusk, and then drags the rest of his books home. Compared with the star and moon momentum of ordinary famous writers, Zhuang's applause was very small, and almost no one applauded.

Out of curiosity, I added his WeChat through the recommendation of the boss of Sea Lion Reading Club, subscribed to three books for him and appreciated his literary talent. While waiting for the book, I will also quietly look at his circle of friends: it's still the same world, but on April day, his books are lined up under the lush trees, which seems to be full of spring. Clusters of pink peach blossoms and a touch of red and yellow winter jasmine at the top of the book seem to announce that his book is welcoming the beautiful scenery of the audience's growth. Maybe it's my neutral name. Call me "Brother Min" in Zhuang WeChat, and I have done my duty. Compared with him who is thin and gentle, my style seems more straightforward. The book has been received. As a professional writer, Zhuang's writing is really smooth and casual, with an obvious pulse of neoclassical literature. As his "civilian brother", I still feel that it is really indecent for others to label him as a "disabled writer, signing books", and Brother Shuang can ignore it. Although his hands, feet and mouth are clumsy due to congenital diseases, his writing is more from his inner feelings, and his hands and mouth are only one of the tools to assist expression.

My Left Foot is an autobiographical novel by my favorite Irish writer christy brown. He was born paralyzed, only his left foot was sound. He learned all the survival skills with his left foot. He also learned to type skillfully and draw beautifully with his left foot, and even wove a wreath with his left foot to pursue the girl he likes. His body failed to imprison his restless soul. With the help of his wife, he became a world-renowned literary master and tasted the sweetness of life. I think Cool Brother has a healthier and freer body in Bublens, so he should have more years to broaden his horizons and get higher achievements and expected happiness. I wish him to walk out of the unnamed lake slowly, because the world is too narrow to bear all his youth and talents in this life.