1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 117 Jin Baojun's Decision
Later in the evening, heavy snow fell in the capital again.

Li Qingquan pedaled his bike slowly back to his unit. At a meeting that had just ended, his superiors proposed transferring him to People's Literature and asked for his opinion, but he did not give a response.

Snowflakes hit his face with a crackling sound and the wheels slipped. Li Qingquan had no choice but to push the bicycle, crunching forward on the snow. A long rut was left on the white ground behind him, which was soon covered by floating snow.

When he reached the eaves, he shook off the snow on his body, pushed the door and entered the office. The alternating hot and cold weather caused the lenses of his glasses to be instantly covered with a layer of white mist.

"Comrade Qingquan!"

"You're finally back."

“You must read this manuscript!”

Li Qingquan was wiping the moisture off his lenses with gloves when he vaguely saw Wang Meng walking towards him and placing a manuscript on his desk.

"It was written in a hurry. It seems to be a very good manuscript."

"Take a look first." Wang Meng picked up the thermos with a smile and poured a cup of hot water for Li Qingquan. A wisp of white steam rose from the mouth of the cup. "Come, warm yourself up."

Li Qingquan didn't rush over to take a look, for fear that the snowflakes on his body would wet the manuscript.

"Whose manuscript is it?"

"This is the one I agreed to write with Jiang Xian before."

"Is it Jiang Xian's?"

Li Qingquan couldn't wait to put on his glasses, rubbed his rough hands covered with calluses, and saw the four-character title of the novel from afar.

"Fuxi Fuxi".

"Why is it named like this? It sounds like a fairy tale."

“You’ll know when you see it.” Wang Meng deliberately kept it a secret.

Li Qingquan took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands, and then wiped his hair. When he felt that he was almost done, he sat down at the table with peace of mind and concentrated on reading the manuscript in his hand.

The north wind was howling outside the window, and the loose doors and windows made slight knocking sounds.

Li Qingquan was watching intently. His body was no longer cold, and he gradually smelled the scent of heat and loess. He was no longer sitting in the office, nor in this time and space, but in the 1944 year of the Republic of China, in the loess land where the sun was higher than the ridges, in a place called Hongshuiyu Northern Township.

He saw Yang Jinshan, who was over fifty years old, sitting on the mule's waist, trembling and swaying like a wax candle swaying in the wind.

Seeing the sixteen-year-old Yang Tianqing, he muttered and cursed his uncle for his stupid words and actions, and felt itchy for the young aunt who was as tall as a poplar tree, every move and every smile.

So when Uncle Yang Jinshan couldn't wait to finish something with Aunt Judou at Toad Mouth.
Yang Tianqing was standing in a stone hall several dozen feet away. He stuck his bald head into the rain and tried desperately to move his two wet ears, trying to hear something.

As a result, he could hear nothing and only felt the cold, rapid movement of the rain.

But the rain could not extinguish the fire in his heart. That fire was like greed, burning bit by bit.

At the end of the story, Yang Tianqing, a bachelor from Hongshuiyu, passed away.

The way he died was by having a hole pierced in a jar.

So all the villagers got a glimpse of Yang Tianqing's beautiful yet ugly appearance.

Wang Judou gave birth to another skinny boy. The villagers in Hongshuiyu suddenly realized what was going on and became furious.

Looking at the dyeing workshop that was set on fire by Ju Dou, they were very happy, then very sad, and then...there was nothing left.

Ju Dou is still alive. She is famous for her extraordinary beauty and for giving birth to a son for both the uncle and the nephew. She made sacrifices for two bloodlines and endured great humiliation.

In the end, Yang Tianqing's superior ability became a legend in the surrounding area, and he became an immortal character in the history of Hongshuiyu.

Li Qingquan put down the last page of the manuscript.

The heavy atmosphere gradually faded away, and he returned to the capital city which was in the midst of reform.

Looking around, he was not used to everything and felt alienated. "Did you finish watching?" Wang Meng, who was sitting nearby, noticed him and walked over with an expectant look.

"How about it?"

Li Qingquan did not speak, but looked at the first sentence of the book -

"Death" is an escape from past sins, and only "life" is the real punishment.

In Li Qingquan's opinion, this is by no means a qualified introduction.

A good introduction should attract the reader's interest, bring out the topic, and set the tone.

But this is Jiang Xian’s confidence.

He regarded the name as the best spice to attract readers' interest, so he used this sentence as an introduction.

When you read the whole article and then go back and re-read this introduction, you will feel as if a thunderclap has exploded in your head.

"The sentences are very poetic and beautiful. Overall, it is a rare good novel!" Li Qingquan concluded.

Wang Meng picked up the thermos and planned to pour a cup of hot water for Li Qingquan, but found that the cup on the table was still full. Li Qingquan didn't even have time to drink a sip of the hot water he had poured for him before.

Are you so fascinated by it?

Wang Meng was shocked.

Although Li Qingquan's style is relatively democratic and he will organize discussions on controversial works, everyone agrees that this democracy is more like cultivating everyone's level of artistic appreciation, because other people's opinions can never influence him.

"Comrade Qingquan, can you publish this novel?"

Even though she had some guesses in her mind, Wang Meng was not sure. Li Qingquan liked Shi Tiesheng's previous article "Half an Hour for Lunch" very much and gave it a high evaluation, but finally decided not to use it.

"Once this novel is published, there will be a lot of controversy." Li Qingquan pondered for a moment and gave his predicted result. This is an ability that people admire for him, that is, he can predict what impact the work will have before it is published.

Wang Meng quickly said: "Don't forget that Director Qiao's Taking Office is also a very controversial work. Can this hide the excellence of the work itself?"

"Don't be in a hurry yet. Organize a discussion among all the novel group members and listen to everyone's opinions."

Jiang Xian first went back to the house at No. 15 Hufang Road.

After a busy day, he just lay down for a while when the landlord brought Jin Baojun to his house, and his wife was also with him.

"We have discussed it and found that the price you quoted of 10,000 yuan is too low."

"If you don't accept it, then there's nothing I can do." Jiang Xian shrugged his shoulders, looking indifferent.

He was very sure that this house would not be sold in a short time.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't be anxious."

Seeing that the boy was unmoved and had been steadfast in his promise to pay ten thousand, Jin Baojun had no choice but to give in.

With this 2 yuan, if he keeps it in the bank for one less day, he will earn less than 30 yuan. If he keeps it for 60 days less, he will earn less than 800 yuan. If he keeps it for one year less, he will earn less than yuan!
He got anxious just thinking about it. If he didn't sell the yard quickly, he would suffer a huge loss.

"Since my wife and I are here today, it's natural that we can talk about it at home. Ten thousand then it's ten thousand." Jin Baojun said with a laugh.

"So this is a deal?"

"make a deal."

"Don't regret it, and don't come to my place to make trouble later."

"You regret it? I'm your grandson if you regret it."

(End of this chapter)