1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 132 Let’s Just Keep It Short
In Beijing in March, you can get a mouthful of sand just by going to the toilet.

The gay men who are a little more particular have already put on white masks, and the lesbians mostly cover their heads with colorful scarves.

The foreign brand sportswear that Jiang Xian requested was finally shipped from Hong Kong. It was called Nike when it first entered China, but later one word was changed.

He doesn't like this brand very much, it has too many black spots, everyone should boycott it.

Unfortunately, there aren't many other options right now.

Nike was the first sports brand to enter China, and it entered the market very early, setting up a production liaison office in Beijing in 1981.

When Zhu Lin put on this outfit, the bright light blue color immediately caught everyone's attention.

"What material is this?"

"It looks good! It looks better than the original one!"

"Don't mention it, the foreigners' stuff looks fashionable."

Liu Xiaoqing's eyes were full of envy, and she tugged at her sleeves, "Screenwriter Jiang is really good at choosing. I have never worn clothes like this in my life, let alone clothes of this color."

At this moment, there is a touch of black, gray and blue. The most popular and rebellious thing is bell-bottom pants. Zhu Lin is wearing this light-colored sportswear. When she stands in the crowd, she looks like a foreigner.

"With this temperament, this is worthy of a heroine." Jiang Xian nodded with satisfaction.

Wang Haowei took a closer look and was completely convinced. She approved of Jiang Xian's decision to change clothes even at the cost of a quarrel with her.

Li Jingfeng came again and calculated the basic remuneration that Renwen Publishing House paid to Jiang Xian.

Two hundred and seven thousand words, based on the standard of 10 yuan per thousand words, the final basic remuneration was yuan.

"'Furong Town' was published at the end of February, and we will pay the royalties based on the number of copies printed every three months. You can just look forward to the best-selling of 'Furong Town' in these three months," said Li Jingfeng.

Jiang Xian swallowed his saliva, feeling nervous and excited at the same time. He had no idea how much the money would be when he received the royalties for the number of copies printed at the end of May.

"Beijing Literature and Art" also paid him the royalties for reprinting "Fuxi Fuxi" in "Works and Debates".

With this royalties, I finally managed to collect four thousand yuan, which was enough to pay off the debt owed to Zhang Jie.

He went to Zhang Jie's door and said, "Teacher Zhang, I'm sorry for borrowing your money for so long. I'm here to pay you back."

Zhang Jie looked at him with a smile.

"How much more?"

"I'll give you one more year's bank interest, let's call it 80%, and I'll give you more."

Zhang Jie was confused for a moment, then immediately reacted, "No, no, no, that's not what I meant. I thought you wanted to pay back part of it first."

"How can I pay it back in installments?" Jiang Xian chuckled. "I came to you to pay you back the 4000 yuan with interest."

"You've earned 4000 so quickly?!" Zhang Jie exclaimed.

It’s only been a short time, less than four months.

She originally thought that she was making money fast enough. Last year, she published several novels and film scripts, and some collections of essays and novels. Compared with Jiang Xian, this really pales in comparison.

The speed at which he makes money can only be described as terrifying!

"I don't want any interest or anything like that. That's too polite. You can treat me to a meal later." Zhang Jie said with a smile.

"Then I'll invite you to my house for dinner later." Jiang Xian suggested, "When my yard is repaired, I'll call a few friends to come over and warm up the house for me."

Zhang Jie had no objection at all. "That's great. I'll wait until your yard is finished."

[This letter is about 20 to 30 pages long, written in the handwriting of a strange woman, very sloppily, and more like a manuscript than a letter. Writer R involuntarily touched the envelope again to see if there were any attachments inside, but the envelope was empty. There was no sender's address on either the envelope or the letter paper, not even a signature.

He thought to himself, "How strange!" and took the letter and read it again. "You, you have never known me!"

This sentence was written at the top, as a title. R paused in surprise. Was it referring to him, or to an imaginary person? His curiosity was suddenly aroused. He began to read:]
Jiang Xian stared at the manuscript of "A Letter from an Unknown Woman" in his mind as if he was reading a script, and planned the revisions.

Wang Meng suddenly came and interrupted him, saying that "Beijing Literature and Art" had organized a dinner to see Li Qingquan off, and asked him if he wanted to attend.

"Of course I will go. It would be difficult to publish Fuxi Fuxi without Teacher Li."

Jiang Xian was still very moved by this matter.

The dinner was held in the cafeteria of Beijing Literature and Art. All the editors of Beijing Literature and Art came to pay tribute to the person in charge who led Beijing Literature and Art to new heights.

During the conversation, everyone held up teacups and wine glasses and enthusiastically said some heartfelt words to Li Qingquan.

There are also many people who are still advising him not to leave "Beijing Literature and Art".

This also includes Zhang Dening, who is relatively young and speaks the most sincere and simple words.

At Wang Meng's invitation, Jiang Xian also stood up and said seriously:
"The time when Mr. Li came to Beijing Literature and Art coincided with the time when I first submitted an article to Beijing Literature and Art. During such a long period of time, I have also witnessed the changes of this magazine and felt the steady improvement of this magazine from quality to quantity.

What I admire most is that Mr. Li always insists that literature is literature, without mixing in any other issues. This is a particularly valuable spirit in an editor.”

Hua Hua Hua.

Applause broke out in the audience, and Jiang Xian's words were recognized by many editors.

Then Li Qingquan said some sincere words.

Many people had tears in their eyes; this was the simple comradeship of that era.

The dinner is over.

Jiang Xian walked with Zhang Dening.

The two chatted about Li Qingquan for a while, and the topic turned to Jiang Xian's manuscript.

"Have you got any ideas for that manuscript?" Zhang Dening asked.

"Yes, it's a short story."

Jiang Xian has spent almost all of his energy these days on transplanting the short story "Letter from a Stranger".

He had previously tried to modify some of the content of the novel, and some of the changes were even praised by some writers and critics.

But this novel is different. The entire plot has to be revised, and efforts must be made to preserve the charm of the original novel.

For him, this is the toughest battle since he entered the literary world.

"Short story?" Zhang Dening felt a little uncomfortable when he heard it was a short story. "Why is it a short story for me?"

She remembered that Jiang Xian had not written short stories for a long time and had been working on medium and long stories.

"Teacher Dening, are you disgusted with me?"

"Not really."

Zhang Dening felt regretful because he couldn't get Jiang Xian's longer article.

She sighed.

"Forget it, let's just keep it short."

(End of this chapter)