1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 148 Change of plan
Among the people in this dormitory, there is no need to mention Jiang Zilon, the leader of reform literature and a hot new writer nowadays.

Kong Jiesheng, 28 years old, is a writer representative at the Fourth National Congress of Writers and Artists. His scar literature "On the Other Side of the Stream" made him famous in the literary world.

Jia Dashan, 38 years old, has published many works in literary and art magazines at the provincial level and above. Later, he became as famous as Jia Pingwa and they were called "the two Jias". It is said that there is a "Two Jia Research Society" in Japan that studies these two people every day.

Well, Brother Dashan, Jiang Xian just needs to hug him and lick him.

Because he is from Zhengding County, Shijiazhuang City, HEB Province.

He had a close friend who wrote a eulogy for him after he passed away.
Jiang Xian is the youngest in the dormitory, but in terms of current literary achievements, he is the best among the four people in the dormitory.

"Let's study together and make progress together!" Everyone exchanged a few words and tidied up the dormitory.

Jiang Xian also diligently helped to sweep the floor. Having a bed is always convenient. If you want to study here, you will inevitably have to stay here for a while.

Then we went to the cafeteria to eat. The smell of cooking oil, fish and meat wafted in the air, along with a layer of slightly sour steam from yeast used to steam buns.

"Comrade Dashan, do you have food coupons from the capital?" Jiang Xian asked with concern.

"Yes, yes, I exchanged ten kilograms of national food coupons for four kilograms of rice coupons and six kilograms of flour coupons." The relatively silent Jia Dashan took out a rice coupon, the size of a one-cent note, the color of kraft paper, with the word "rice coupon" printed on it in black ink, and four taels per piece.

Jiang Xian can eat both rice and noodles. He ordered two taels of steamed buns and a portion of shredded pork with fish flavor, and ate them all in one gulp.

Upon asking around, he found out that he knew many of the leaders here, such as Director Ding Ling, Wu Boxiao who invited him here to study, and Li Qingquan, all of whom were acquaintances.

"Comrade Jiang Xian!"

"Comrade Wang Anyi!"

As the three of them were chatting, Wang Anyi came over to say hello to Jiang Xian. She was a student from Shanghai and had little contact with the literary world. She was unfamiliar with the place and was not used to eating pasta.

Finally meeting someone she knew, she felt much better.

"Comrade Wang Anyi, are you used to it these past two days?"

"good."

"Kid, it's not easy to go out alone. If you have any difficulties, just tell me." Jiang Xian acted like a senior.

He and Ru Zhijuan are friends of equal stature.

On the surface, we are classmates, but in fact, I am your uncle.

Not only Wang Anyi is an acquaintance, but also Tie Ning. I met her at a symposium last year. She is a wealthy woman.

"Comrade Jiang Xian, long time no see. You have published many works and I have read them all." Tie Ning grew up in Baoding and worked as an editor in a small magazine in Baoding. This is a bit like Wang Anyi. Later, she wrote "The Great Bather" and then rose to prominence.

The students met each other in the cafeteria.

Those who are better at socializing will introduce themselves to each other, while those who are introverted and shy will just stand aside and smile.

The literary lecture had a strong masculine energy. There were 33 students in the class, and there were only 5 girls. I heard that there were only 3 at the beginning, and then Wang Anyi was recommended, and one of the male comrades was replaced by Liu Shuhua, so that the 5 were complete.

After dinner, several students from other places wanted to go out and take a look at the beautiful scenery of the capital.

"Mr. Jiang Xian, please find a local to be our tour guide to take care of us outsiders. I'm afraid we won't be able to find the way back." Kong Jiesheng spoke with a thick Cantonese accent.

Jiang Xian was not stingy when he saw them speaking.

"That's easy to say, but there doesn't seem to be anything good to visit around here."

"Just treat it as getting familiar with the terrain, haha."

He led seven or eight writers out together. The surroundings were very empty. After leaving the courtyard and walking for a while, they reached a place that could barely be called a "street".

There is a tobacco and grocery store on the street. It is not small, but it is empty inside.

Because it was early spring and the weather was still cold, a thick cotton curtain made of coarse blue cloth quilted with thread was hung at the door of the store, like a farmer's quilt.

"There's nothing to sell here. It's not as good as the small shop near my home."

"Please give me a pack of 'Battle' brand cigarettes." Gao Erpin bought a pack of cigarettes and shared them among everyone. Although the cigarettes were cheap, everyone looked grateful.

We stood together across the road, smoking in front of a small post office.

"Our place is really shabby. It seems like there's nowhere to go when we go out." Tie Ning couldn't help but complain.

"How about we find a place to play together on the weekend?" Chen Shixu took the lead.

"Where to play?"

"Jiang Xian, tell me one."

The locals were called up again. Jiang Xian thought for a moment and said, "I think we should go to a movie together." "A movie?"

"It's good to watch a movie."

His proposal immediately received everyone's support. Watching movies is a very rare and trendy thing at this time.

Wang Anyi looked expectant, "Comrade Jiang Xian, do you have any movies to recommend to us?"

""border town"!"

This literary lecture was attended by many talented young people, and Director Ding Ling did not show up until a few days before school started.

She once spoke to the writers she trained at the literary institute she founded:

"A person may work hard all his life and leave nothing behind, but if he uses his life to write a work for the people that will stand the test of time, that's enough. You must publish a book to show your ability. With a well-known book, your position in the literary world will be established."

This statement was turned into "one-bookism" by the journalism department, which caused her a lot of trouble.

All 33 students have reported. Li Qingquan took some time to call everyone to the classroom and prepare to arrange all matters before school starts.

Everyone found a seat and sat down, and the last row was the first to be filled.

By the time Jiang Xian came in carrying an enamel teacup, all the seats in the back had been taken.

He simply found a seat by the window in the second row and sat at the same table with Wang Anyi. He put the teacup in his hand on the table with a clicking sound.

On the side wall of the cup, the bright red words "1979 National Excellent Short Story First Prize" sparkle brightly in the sun.

Li Qingquan came in quickly, stood on the podium, glanced down, and the students immediately became quiet.

He bowed and said, "Hello, comrades. My name is Li Qingquan."

Hua Hua Hua.

The students applauded.

Li Qingquan first talked about some problems in life. He never spoke in clichés and only talked about the key parts. As a result, the meeting went on very quickly and everyone listened very carefully and democratically. During the meeting, everyone was free to speak and ask questions.

At the end of his speech, Li Qingquan knocked on the blackboard, obviously talking about the key point.

"When the course ends in July, the Literature Lecture Association will count everyone's creative achievements during the study period and rank them as the graduation results of the Literature Lecture Association."

Wow.

The classroom suddenly became noisy and the students all looked worried.

Jiang Zilong said, "Teacher Li, do the previously published ones count?"

Li Qingquan shook his head. "Only those published during the literary conference count."

The students were in chaos again.

"This is too difficult!"

“How much work can we create just by studying for three months?”

"Don't worry, comrades. I will be the last one in line."

"Hahaha, the last one must be me. Don't worry, by July, I won't be able to write a single essay."

"Comrade Mo Shen, don't argue. I can't write a single word."

"A sentence? I can't write a single word!"

Wang Anyi said nothing, with her head down, seemingly thinking about something, looking like a good student.

Jiang Xian didn't say anything, just picked his ears silently.

[I don’t even believe the punctuation marks in what they say. —Yu Hua, “The Seventh Day”]
They all said they would not write, but they secretly pretended to be the best at writing.

He remembered Yu Hua saying that when he was at Lu Xun Academy of Literature, when it was time for graduation, even though he "played ball every day and learned to play Go", the forms he submitted were full of titles of works published in various magazines, even martial arts novels.

"Comrades, I hope you will strive to be the first to publish your work!" Li Qingquan encouraged.

Goo-dong, goo-dong.

Jiang Xian took a few sips of water.

Oh, I just wanted to take a break.

Change of plans, get ready to open the book!
(End of this chapter)