1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 168 Femininity

"——Just touch it."

".?"

Jiang Xian's heart skipped a beat.

Zhu Lin is a person of this special era. She has the unique conservatism of this era and is resistant to close contact. However, her body is passively affected by pheromones, and a hint of charm emanates from her bones.

Jiang Xian held her slender waist, which was as thin, soft, and smooth as a water snake.

"Are you going back tonight?"

"Of course I want to go back."

Zhu Lin gently stroked his chest, raised her head and glanced at him, her almond eyes filled with resentment, "It's not good if it gets out."

Jiang Xian also knew that it was not good.

Fortunately, his house is not in Chaoyang District.

The two of them got dressed quickly. Zhu Lin looked in the mirror with a picture of "The East is Red" on it, combed her hair carefully, sniffed it, and gave Jiang Xian a reproachful look.

"It's all your saliva."

"It's inevitable. I'll help you wipe it off."

Jiang Xian sent Zhu Lin back to the Beijing Film Studio, and the two of them spent some time together in a shadowy corner before returning to their respective rooms in the guesthouse.

Zhu Lin's mind was in a mess. Thinking about everything that had happened today and the words she said in his arms, her face began to get hot again.

what happened?

Why are you talking so insincerely in bed?

She slapped her head and thought, oh, there is something else she wants to discuss with him.

I finally got the chance to talk about it today, how come I forgot again.

"Sister Zhu Lin, you're back." Chen Hong, who was lying on the bed listening to the Seagull radio, greeted her, then hugged the quilt and looked at her strangely as she just came in, "You look a little different today than usual."

"What's different?" Zhu Lin felt a little guilty and quickly checked her body for anything unusual.

Chen Hong pondered for several seconds.

"More feminine than usual."

The weather is getting a little bit hotter.

Jiang Xian received a call from Renwen Press and learned about the publication of "Rice". He immediately rode his bike to No. 166 Chaoyang.

"Jingfeng!"

"Jiang Xian!"

When the comrades met, they shook hands sincerely and warmly. Li Jingfeng couldn't help but praise him, "You are amazing, you wrote something great!"

"Have you read my article?" Jiang Xian's eyes were full of anticipation.

Li Jingfeng smiled cheerfully, "It's not just me who has seen it. The old lady has seen it too. Do you know what she said about you?"

"How to say?"

"Camel Xiangzi!"

"Ouch."

"Mishima Yukio!"

"No, no, no, don't say that. I'm not as extreme as him." Jiang Xian waved his hands quickly. Mishima Yukio, in terms of literary and artistic level, could undoubtedly stand at the top of the world, but he was not very loyal and had strong right-wing ideas. He organized an armed coup and committed suicide after the failure. His masterpiece is "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion".

There are many strange writers in Xiao Ri Zi. Besides him, the one who impressed Jiang Xian the most was Mori Ogai, who was as famous as Natsume Soseki. He was a great writer of his generation, but he insisted on giving up literature to study medicine. He single-handedly cured 3 Japanese devils to death and sent Tian Huang away.

"Do you know how many copies of Furong Town are printed now?"

Li Jingfeng looked excited. He told Jiang Xian about the publication of "Furong Town", which made Jiang Xian also excited.

50 copies?

This was the small goal he set at that time.

This has been achieved in less than three months?
"Don't be so cocky, you guy!" Li Jingfeng added his catchphrase.

The two of them went all the way to the third floor of Renwen Press and knocked on the office door. Wei Junyi looked up from the basin-like space in the middle of the table full of manuscripts.

"Jiang Xian is here?"

"Teacher Wei."

"Please sit down." Wei Junyi said with a smile.

Jiang Xian and Li Jingfeng each took a chair and sat down. She personally poured two cups of hot water for them. "It's amazing. You are the best Chinese writer I have ever seen who is good at inserting 'stream of consciousness'."

"I didn't even know what 'stream of consciousness' was." Li Jingfeng shrugged. "It was only after Teacher Wei explained it to me that I finally understood."

The cultural level of the editors at this time needed to be improved. For this purpose, the Institute of Literature later opened special editing classes and critic classes, which was equivalent to cultivating the entire cultural system.

"How could you write such a novel?" Wei Junyi asked curiously.

Jiang Xian spoke without hesitation, "As you know, I am very interested in some foreign literary concepts. I learned about the Burmese experimental literature movement before. After writing "Fuxi Fuxi", I have always wanted to write an experimental novel. It happened that Teacher Wang Meng assigned me the homework of "stream of consciousness". The two concepts collided, and finally collided to produce such an obscure and dark novel."

In fact, "Rice" has the nature of new experimental literature, that is, to explore and realize the possibilities of human nature through writing. Most of Yu Hua's articles are of this nature, and Canxue plunged into it and couldn't come out.

"I see." Wei Junyi nodded. "You write very well. Once this novel is published, it will be enough to establish your position in the literary world."

"Teacher Wei, please don't say such things. What's the point of having status? I just love writing. I am willing to be a good worker and write for the people." Jiang Xian said it beautifully.

"You are so young, yet you have such high ideological awareness." Wei Junyi smiled, very satisfied, "The second half of your novel."

When she mentioned the second half, Jiang Xian became a little nervous, after all, he had modified the plot of the second half.

The original second half of "Rice" was about how Wu Long's second-generation followers were full of evil intentions when he grew old.

Jiang Xian felt that it was too cumbersome and the description was fragmented, which distracted from the core of the story and reduced the viewing experience, so he changed it.

"The second half is also very well written," Wei Junyi encouraged. "It completes the story."

Jiang Xian let out a breath, feeling very satisfied.

He worked hard, and his efforts were recognized, which is very worth being happy about.

Wei Junyi held up the manuscript of "Rice" and showed a gentle, satisfied and appreciative smile.

"Except for those grammatical errors that must be corrected, the rest that you think is correct can remain unchanged."

After saying that, he turned a white porcelain pen holder on the desk upside down, and the contents of the pen holder all fell onto the table. There were pencil tips, ballpoint pen tips, thumb tacks, paper clips, toothpicks, hairpins, eye drops, etc.

She found an iron clip from among the mess, clipped a few pages of additional paper to the manuscript, and then handed the manuscript over, "Take it back and take a good look at it."

"I understand, Teacher Wei." Jiang Xian nodded, looked at the revised handwriting on the manuscript, and felt moved again. Who could put so much effort into your manuscript?

After putting the manuscript away and asking for a stack of manuscript paper, he returned to the Beijing Film Studio as usual.

As soon as I parked the car under the carport, someone called me.

(End of this chapter)