1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 177 Ba Jin's Dream
"There's nothing wrong with the comic book." Jiang Xian agreed.

Comic books are still very popular at the moment, and there are many professional illustrators. This industry is very prosperous because it really makes money.

The remuneration for comic strips is generally calculated based on the number of pictures. At present, one picture costs about 10 yuan. If a comic strip with 100 pictures is drawn, the remuneration can be around 1000 yuan.

按照普通连环画师的速度，100幅图要制作3到4个月，那么每月能获稿酬300至400多元。

Nowadays, workers only earn more than 60 yuan a month!
Later on, it no longer worked. Starting from 85, movies and TV gradually enriched people's entertainment life. In addition, foreign comics and animations were more popular with children, and picture books lost their popularity.

After the 90s, even the Shanghai People's Fine Arts Publishing House, a major comic book publishing house, did not have a full-time comic artist.

"Let me see. 'Huo Yuanjia' has a total of 22 words. If I calculate your basic remuneration at 10 yuan per thousand words, it would be 2200 yuan." Bian Huawei calculated word by word. He was so excited just hearing the numbers pop out of his mouth.

2200 yuan!
This does not include the royalties from the number of copies printed!
Jiang Xian was also excited.

Damn, no wonder everyone likes entertainment and not art. The money is there, and making money is as fast as printing money. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

The money earned from this book "Huo Yuanjia" alone is more than all the literary works written by Jiang Xian combined.

With this thought in mind, Jiang Xian tried to calm himself down first.

He is very clear about this matter.

Popular literature can make money, and traditional literature can bring fame.

But money is not as good as fame.

Jiang Xian came from the future and not only saw Comrade Jianguo getting his ears pierced, but also saw so many writers on the list of richest writers.

Being rich does not mean literary status.

Da Bing has been on this list before.

As a result, Chinese literary world cannot do without Da Bing, just like fish cannot do without bicycles.

It’s not that Jiang Xian doesn’t love money, he just wants to be rich.

He is ambitious. Since he has chosen the path of literature, he naturally hopes to leave his name in literary history.

He is willing to look up to the six superstars who have made a name for themselves in the world: Luba, Mao, Guo, Lao and Cao, but what he hopes more is to have a name of his own under the feet of these six.

This is how a man is born!
The next day.

Jiang Xian still came to Jiang Qin's house for dinner and watched his two nephews playing hopscotch in the open space, each holding a half chestnut cake in their hands.

"Uncle, uncle."

"Is it yummy?"

"So sassy."

Jiang Xian rubbed their heads and sighed. As their sister, he still couldn't bear to eat it.

When I pushed the door open and walked into the room, Jiang Qin had just come back from the night shift and was catching up on sleep in bed.

Seeing him come in, she rubbed her eyes, sat up and put on her shoes.

"Second brother, are you hungry? I'll heat up some food for you."

Jiang Xian stopped her and said, "I'm not hungry. I'll find a place to buy something later."

"It's so expensive. I'll make it for you."

"Please sit down first. I have something to discuss with you."

Seeing Jiang Xian's serious face, Jiang Qin had no choice but to sit down and looked at him with a smile, "What's wrong?"

Jiang Xian hesitated for a moment, "Sister, didn't you always like to draw things?"

"Drawing something?"

"Before you became an educated youth, and when you were an educated youth, didn't you teach yourself to paint?"

Jiang Qin smiled and said, "That was a long time ago. Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?"

"My brother-in-law told me yesterday that my novel could be adapted into a comic book and published. I went back and thought about it. As the original author, I can only collect a small part of the adaptation fee. The bulk of it goes to the adaptation artist."

"They also put a lot of effort into painting, so they should get the money."

"I don't have any objection to this." Jiang Xian explained calmly, "I just want to say that instead of letting outsiders make the money, it's better for you to make it."

"Give me?"

Jiang Qin was stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Sister, have you ever thought about drawing a comic strip?" Jiang Xian looked into her eyes and said, "Start with my book Huo Yuanjia."

Jiang Qin was in disbelief for a long time before she whispered, "Me? Painting Huo Yuanjia? I can't do it. I can't paint well."

"You haven't even painted, how come you can't paint well?"

Jiang Xian encouraged with a smile, "Comic strips are not a difficult job. Don't think it's too difficult from the beginning."

Jiang Xian has read the comic books at this time, and he still maintains the creative style of "three highlights, bright red". The "three highlights" have been explained before, and "bright red" means that the characters are full of energy and have rosy faces.

Of course, the modeling skills are also very high, and the quality of the paintings in the picture books is not inferior to Japanese comics.

"Try it first. It's free."

"You're such a troublemaker." Jiang Qin said helplessly.

Jiang Xian pulled out his trump card and chuckled, "Do you know how much money a comic strip artist can make from one picture?"

"How many?"

"This number." Jiang Xian raised one finger, then two fingers.

"One or two cents?"

"Be bold."

"One or two?"

Jiang Xian slowly gave the answer, "10 to 20 yuan for a picture."

"How much?!" Jiang Qin's eyes widened in disbelief.

One picture costs 10 to 20 yuan. If she can draw three or four pictures, wouldn’t that be more than what she earned in the previous month’s work!

"A comic book has at least 20 to 30 pages. My book Huo Yuanjia has at least over a hundred pages of illustrations. You can calculate how much money you can make." Jiang Xian threw out an astronomical figure indifferently.

Hiss.

Jiang Qin's breathing became heavy.

A comic book has 20 to 30 pages, which costs 200 to 300 yuan. The picture of Huo Yuanjia, the second character, has more than 100 pages, so it must cost more than 1,000 yuan, right?
Jiang Xian immediately said, "You can paint my Huo Yuanjia first these few days. I will ask my brother-in-law not to rush to contact the publishing house."

Jiang Qin was persuaded and took a deep breath. "Then I'll try it when I'm free these two days."

"You haven't picked up a pen in so many years. You have to study and practice well during this period. From now on, I will write and you will draw. We will work together to make all the money."

First belittled, then encouraged, Jiang Xian started working on CPU.

This set is really useful. Jiang Qin was so excited. "I will draw for you, so of course I have to draw well. If I can't sell it because it's not good, then I will be too sorry for you."

After lunch, Jiang Xian returned to the guesthouse.

The authors at "Story Club" are very down-to-earth. On the way back, I happened to meet a new author who had checked in. He was carrying a bag of flour in his hand and looked like a farmer. Jiang Xian greeted him and handed him a cigarette.

He closed the door and took a comfortable nap. He was awakened by a comrade from the message room downstairs, who said that Li Xiaolin from Harvest Magazine was calling. He went downstairs to answer the call.

"Sister Xiaolin."

"Jiang Xian, come over now. The painter is here. Come directly to my house and I'll arrange a painting for you. You can talk to him about your ideas. Can you find Wukang Road? No. 113."

"Sister Xiaolin, I think you are making things difficult for me. What should I do if you leave me in Shanghai?"

"Hahaha, how could that be? You're such a big person." She thought for a while, "How about this, wait a moment, I'll take a turtle car to pick you up."

The Turtle Car is similar to the Laotoule. It is the most popular three-wheeled motorcycle in Shanghai at the moment and is also a relatively high-end means of transportation.

After hanging up the phone, Jiang Xian started reading a newspaper on the first floor. [Peng Jiamu, vice president of the new branch of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, mysteriously disappeared while leading a team on a scientific expedition to Lop Nur.]
He looked at the time: June 6th.

It actually happened at this moment.

After a while, Li Xiaolin came over in a turtle car. She and Jiang Xian sat in the back, which seemed a bit crowded.

"Today, not only the painter came, but also a playwright. They are all good friends of Dad. They live not far away and often come to visit."

"Who?"

"Ke Ling."

Jiang Xian had heard of this person's name.

Ke Ling is a rare all-rounder in the literary world. He has written screenplays for Corrosion, The City That Never Sleeps, For Peace and Spring in the World. He is Eileen Chang's mentor and discovered her. A few years later, he also broke the ice for Eileen Chang in the mainland and reignited the Eileen Chang fever.

As for what people in later generations often say, the bus molestation scene in "Little Reunion" is an allusion to his molestation of Zhang.

Well, it’s an unsolved case, and what is written may not be true, so we won’t discuss it. After all, according to Zhang’s writing habits, Wang Jiazhi is not as terrible as she writes.

As we were talking, we arrived at No. 113 Wukang Road, which was Ba Jin's residence in Shanghai, a three-story Western-style building with a garden.

The address remains the same in later generations and has been changed to Ba Jin's former residence. If you are in Shanghai, you can go and have a look.

"Come in." Li Xiaolin opened the door and Jiang Xian walked into the small Western-style building.

How should I put it? Books, books are everywhere. Ba Jin had a large collection of books and donated tens of thousands of books in his lifetime. He bought all of them at his own expense. When someone asked him to sign, he even bought sample books at his own expense for them to sign.

"Jiang Xian is here!"

Ba Jin laughed heartily a few times and was now sitting on the sofa with the two old men.

One of them was Ke Ling, and the other must be the painter that Li Xiaolin told him about.

Li Xiaolin first introduced him to the two elders, "This is Jiang Xian, a writer who has published a lot of works in the literary world recently, including "Chess King" and "Ferocious Animals."

She turned around and introduced Jiang Xian, "This is Ke Ling, and this is Zhang Leping."

Hiss.

Zhang Leping, the father of Sanmao!

Jiang Xian hurriedly shook hands with the old man.

“I grew up watching your work.”

Who among Chinese people hasn’t read Sanmao?
In fact, Zhang Leping is not only good at drawing cartoons, but also New Year pictures, illustrations, quick sketches, drawings, watercolors, paper-cuts, and Chinese paintings, all of which have reached a very high level.

There was a very popular writer whose pen name was also "Sanmao". She liked this character so much that she took this pen name. Later, she traveled thousands of miles to Shanghai to find her father, and became a legend in the literary world.

"I've read your book The Chess King," Ke Ling said with great interest, "I've always wanted to write a literary review for you, but I never had the time."

Jiang Xian's eyes lit up.

Literary criticism? You said so yourself.

"I've made a note of it. I'll write to you later to remind you." He said half-jokingly.

"Let me play a song for you." Li Xiaolin sat in front of the piano and played "Liuyang River".

It was just one song and several people applauded loudly.

"This song is really good. I lived in Hunan for a while."

"Are you from Hunan?" Zhang Leping asked.

Li Xiaolin waved his hands, "No, no, Jiang Xian is from Beijing."

Speaking of hometown, Jiang Xian remembered that the hometown of Sanmao's father was also quite famous.

“Are you from Haiyan?”

"Oh? You also know our Haiyan County?" Zhang Leping was surprised.

"I have a friend from there, and he always talks about it in my ear." Jiang Xian replied with a smile.

Li Xiaolin was very straightforward. He didn't beat around the bush when he asked Zhang Leping to paint. He said directly, "Teacher Zhang, I have already agreed to make an appointment with him. If you don't paint, I won't open the door for you when you come to our house next time."

"Look at how capable your daughter is." Zhang Leping looked at Ba Jin helplessly, "How dare I say no to this?"

Ba Jin still spoke in a thick Sichuan dialect, "If that's the case, you should agree to her. She is the most powerful person in our family now."

"Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Zhang." Jiang Xian smiled.

Zhang Leping, the father of Sanmao, personally drew the illustrations. This deal is really worth it for Li Xiaolin!
This illustration has such a special meaning!

It’s so precious to draw it!

Zhang Leping and Jiang Xian briefly chatted about the illustrations, and Jiang Xian had another idea.

"When you make the illustrations, can I bring my sister over so she can watch and learn? She loves drawing."

“Is she an artist?”

“She’s a worker.”

"Comrade worker? Of course no problem." Zhang Leping agreed readily.

Li Xiaolin poured a cup of tea for Jiang Xian, "Jiang Xian, I have done what I promised you. You must give me your manuscript!"

Zhang Leping couldn't help but smacking his lips again.

What kind of charm does Jiang Xian have that makes Li Xiaolin ask him for the manuscript?

"I had a dream yesterday."

Ba Jin suddenly said, "I am not afraid of you laughing at me. When I woke up, I still took the dream as reality and sat on the bed, grinning foolishly."

"Dad, you started it again." Li Xiaolin said helplessly: "You are really possessed."

Ba Jin patted her hands and said with a smile: "I want to do this so badly. You don't know how much I want to do it. I would think about this even in my dreams."

"Mr. Ba Jin, please tell us about it," said Zhang Leping.

Ke Ling and Jiang Xian also sat up straight, especially Jiang Xian, who wanted to hear what Ba Jin was worried about that made him so obsessed.

"I have been isolated from the outside world for ten years. Now the spell on my head has been torn off. Looking back, the path I took before has become clearer, and I have a better understanding of what literature is."

"Some people asked me at that time, 'Did our ancestors leave behind no legacy worth paying attention to? Is all modern literature since May 5th a waste?'"

"I didn't dare to answer at that time, and I couldn't answer it. At that time, I was only thinking about the philosophy of living."

"Since 1979, I have traveled abroad three times. I want to see what the world is like now."

"I visited their museums and memorials, and came into contact with their culture and materials. I discovered that both the United States and Japan were collecting our literary materials, and the United States had the largest collection."

"I wonder, in the future, will we have to shamelessly go abroad to look for our materials, or write off the literature of this generation altogether?"

"I saw a 'Modern Literature Museum' in Japan. It was founded by Japanese writers and they didn't ask the government for a penny."

"Is it impossible for us Chinese writers to do this? My power is limited, but I am willing to take the lead and donate all my money, books, magazines and materials to do this."

"My determination is growing, but I'm worried that I don't have the energy to make a difference."

"."

The room was quiet, with only Ba Jin's voice lingering.

"Okay, Dad, you are really confused." Li Xiaolin didn't let Ba Jin continue.

After drinking some tea, Jiang Xian said goodbye and left.

He thought quietly about Ba Jin's words.

Pedestrians walked leisurely, and time seemed to slow down under the shade of the sycamore trees.

(End of this chapter)