1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 551 [Pilot] + [Adventure]

With the release of "Stories from the Editorial Department" just around the corner, Jiang Xian and the "Seahorse" team worked diligently for a while.

At this critical juncture, to his surprise, Li Qingquan and several others came to see him at the editorial office of People's Literature.

"Comrade Qingquan." Jiang Xian showed great enthusiasm upon seeing Li Qingquan.

When he first started writing, he submitted his work to "Beijing Literature and Art," which is now "Beijing Literature." The editor-in-chief who guided him, a young author, was Li Qingquan.

At that time, Li Qingquan was engaged in "cluster-style" writing, and his work in the then-Jingcheng Literature and Art magazine brought forth a large number of young writers who have now become the backbone of the literary world.

In a sense, Jiang Xian was indeed one of the authors trained by Li Qingquan.

Moreover, when he later went to the literary training institute for further studies, Li Qingquan also held an important position there.

From this perspective, Jiang Xian is also his student in name only.

Not to mention, over the years Li Qingquan has been running around for the Lu Xun Academy of Literature and the issue of writers' diplomas, and Jiang Xian has truly benefited from the advantages he secured.

Therefore, Jiang Xian couldn't help but feel affectionate towards Li Qingquan as soon as they met.

Although he didn't say it aloud, he kept his gratitude to Li Qingquan in his heart.

"Let me introduce."

Li Qingquan pulled along several middle-aged men who had come with him, saying, "This is Li Mingshuo, the teacher in charge of our Peking University Writers' Writing Class."

"Oh, hello, hello." Jiang Xian warmly shook hands with Li Mingshuo.

Yes, although he is now the "elite" editor-in-chief of People's Literature, he also has another identity: a student at Peking University.

"Comrade Jiang Xian."

Li Mingshuo first smiled at Jiang Xian, then a look of embarrassment quickly appeared on his face:
"We came here for two reasons. First, on behalf of the Peking University Writing Class, we wanted to visit you and offer our best wishes. Second, we wanted to ask you how your graduation project is progressing."

Jiang Xian understood perfectly well what Li Mingshuo meant; the first half of his statement was just polite talk, while the second half was the key point.

"Graduation project?"

He slapped his forehead.

When he enrolled at Peking University, he finally managed to get a course exemption from the university, and he was just waiting for the time to receive a Peking University certificate.

At the time, Peking University did indeed agree to grant him the right to skip classes, but afterwards, the people at Peking University made a condition:

—Graduation project.

Before graduation, students must submit a novel to Peking University as a graduation project to verify their learning outcomes in the writing class.

Jiang Xian readily agreed at the time, but little did he know that time would fly by and it would be time for the writing class to graduate.

By then, he had completely forgotten about graduating.

Because I didn't hand in my homework on time, the teacher came to my door to collect it.

Seeing Jiang Xian's expression, Li Mingshuo roughly guessed what was going on, and his heart sank.

Well, I really wasn't prepared!

Several writers attended their writing class at Peking University, including some who were already established and had published articles in important literary journals.

The most special student among them was Jiang Xian.

There's a saying among the teachers in the writers' workshop that all the current students combined can't compare to what Jiang Xian has achieved so far.

After all, he is now the head of People's Literature, the largest and most important literary journal in China.

The last person to sit in this seat has already flown into the sea.

Jiang Xian, on the other hand, is ridiculously younger than the previous one, yet his works are just as influential.

Even if they can't achieve the same meteoric rise as the previous one, their future is absolutely limitless.

Therefore, the Peking University writing class was getting a little anxious when Jiang Xian's graduation project was not submitted on time.

Should we urge them, or not?

After much thought, I still have to urge them.

Even if the other party is Jiang Xian, we are Peking University, and we cannot easily concede on such an academic issue.

But who will urge them?
The task of urging Jiang Xuan to expedite the manuscript suddenly became a recognized problem for all the teachers in the writing class. They all made excuses and avoided it like the plague, fearing that this task would fall on their shoulders.

Li Mingshuo was unlucky; he was the youngest teacher in the writing class, so this problem ultimately fell on his shoulders.

Before he came, he had already considered that if Jiang Xian simply hadn't finished writing yet, or hadn't had time to submit it, then it would be fine.

The most awkward situation is that Jiang Xian forgot.

In such a short time, it would be extremely difficult to get Jiang Xian to write a graduation project, especially since he holds an important position and it would be very difficult to get the manuscript from him.

The current situation is clearly the second and worst-case scenario that Li Mingshuo envisioned.
Jiang Xian forgot.

“Hmm, it’s already this late.” Jiang Xian glanced at his watch and then looked at Li Qingquan and Li Mingshuo. “If it’s convenient, how about coming to my house for a casual meal? Comrade Qingquan, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. We have to have a couple of drinks together today.”

"I'm not in good health. I can drink a little, but I can't drink too much. I can't outdrink you young people," Li Qingquan said with a smile.

The two were relaxed, but Li Mingshuo was inwardly tormented.

In his view, Jiang Xian's actions were clearly a delaying tactic.

It's obvious they don't have any manuscripts; they just want to give him a meal and drinks and then send him away.

But if I really go back to school like this, how am I supposed to explain it?
Li Mingshuo was in so much pain.

Helping Jiang Xian would be a fundamental mistake, and Peking University would certainly not accept a student like Jiang Xian who wants to receive a graduation certificate without even having a graduation project. In the end, it is highly likely that Jiang Xian's name will be removed from Peking University, and such an outcome is obviously something that the teachers of the writing class do not want to see.

But if he didn't help Jiang Xian, he would directly offend him. Li Mingshuo certainly didn't want to see such a prominent figure in the literary world come into play.

Alas, it's a case of either shrinking back or sticking out your neck and getting stabbed to death.

This is too difficult to do.

Li Qingquan also had an official car, belonging to the Lu Xun Academy of Literature. He and Jiang Xian's black Volga drove back to Tuanjiehu one after the other, immediately attracting a lot of attention.

However, it's no secret that the great writer Jiang Xian lives here. Many people can probably guess that some important person must be visiting Jiang Xian again.

"Please sit down." After leading them home, Jiang Xian poured them tea, then sat down and asked Li Qingquan about the recent situation of the Lu Xun Academy of Literature and the writers' writing class. "I have a few promising talents to recommend to you. They all have great writing talent, but they lack a period of professional training in writing."

"Really?" Li Qingquan became interested. After all, the Lu Xun Academy of Literature was training writers like this—talented in writing but limited by their academic qualifications and lacking formal education. "What are their names?" "Well, they're all from my workplace. Oh, you might not know, but recently our Museum of Modern Literature has set up a 'Film and Television Creation Center' called 'Seahorse.' Several of the screenwriters there have quite a lot of talent in their writing."

"What is your name?"

"One is named Yu Hua, a young comrade from the South, and the other is named Wang Shuo, this one is a local from Beijing."

"Oh." Li Qingquan was familiar with these names; he had heard of them before and knew that they were all newly emerging writers in the literary world.

"Um, you two," Li Mingshuo, who had been listening to the two chatting for a while, couldn't sit still any longer. After hesitating for a long time, he still felt that he shouldn't give up on urging Jiang Xian to write the manuscript. He should ask Jiang Xian for the manuscript.

"Comrade Jiang Xian, I still want to ask you, how is your graduation project progressing? It's best not to delay this for too long."

"Your graduation project?" Jiang Xian smiled. "To be honest, I completely forgot about it. Can I use my previous published works? What do you think of 'The Playboy'?"

"The Troublemakers?"

Li Mingshuo looked conflicted. "The novel 'The Playboy' is certainly excellent, I've read it, and it's very captivating. But hasn't it been published for too long? And its popularity is just too high. Using it as a graduation project seems a bit inappropriate."

It wasn't that Li Mingshuo was nitpicking.

With so much time since its publication and such a great reputation, everyone knows that Jiang Xian's novel was not written as his graduation work in a writing class.

"Is that not allowed?" Jiang Xian frowned. "So it has to be a new novel?"

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a new novel; any unpublished work is fine. In short, it has to demonstrate what you've learned here."

"Haha."

Li Qingquan smiled at Jiang Xian's expression. "What's wrong? Jiang Xian, who never lacks manuscripts and isn't afraid of being rushed to finish them, has also been forced to run out of ideas?"

Upon hearing this, Jiang Xian didn't offer any further explanation, but simply smiled:
"Who can guarantee that they will have plenty of inspiration for their entire life, or that they will be at their creative peak for their entire life? Human strength has its limits."

"Human strength has its limits," Li Mingshuo said, glancing at Jiang Xian as he heard his words.

Is it really true that heroes grow old and their talents wane?
After so many years of explosive writing, Jiang Xian has also entered a period of reflection.
Also.

Even so many world-class literary masters, after a lifetime of hard work, can only produce a handful of influential works.

No one can guarantee that they can always write frequently, prolificly, and with high quality.

In Li Mingshuo's view, Jiang Xian's entire writing journey from his rise to the present can be described as a miracle.

Over this nearly ten-year period, Jiang Xian has produced influential, and extremely influential, works almost every year.

Almost every novel published sparked a reading frenzy among readers and a heated discussion among literary critics.

Not to mention that he initiated and promoted various new literary trends on multiple occasions.

Mountains have an end, and seas have a shore.

An era belonging to Jiang Xian will eventually come to an end with the changing times.

Just as Li Mingshuo was lamenting in his heart that Lian Po was getting old, Zhu Lin, who had been listening for a while, couldn't help but speak up:
"How about a fairy tale?"

"fairy tales?"

Li Mingshuo was taken aback at first, then immediately remembered that Jiang Xian was also a children's literature writer who had written a very influential novel called "The Grass House". Li Mingshuo had also read it. Although the novel was children's literature, it was not out of place for adults to read. In fact, he was so moved that he burst into tears and kept marveling at how someone could write children's literature so beautifully and how children's literature could be so heartwarming.

"If it's children's literature, that's fine too. We have specialized children's literature courses," Li Mingshuo explained.

Zhu Lin's eyes lit up. "Jiang Xian, why don't you write that story down? It's such a beautiful story. It would be such a waste not to write it down."

"A story?" Li Mingshuo sensed a glimmer of hope, and a glimmer of hope ignited in his heart.

If I could really write such a children's book for him to complete, that would be fine too.

Of course, Li Mingshuo didn't expect the novel to be of high quality.

In his opinion, Jiang Xian would probably find it difficult to write a novel like "The Grass House" again.

A novel as good as "The Grass House" is something that any writer could only dream of.

Moreover, writing is inextricably linked to a person's state of mind, experiences, and thoughts at the time.

Children's literature places the greatest emphasis on the purity of thought.

That novel was written by Jiang Xian several years ago. In those years, he has experienced and witnessed so many tremendous changes in society.

Can we still bring out a pure heart to write good children's literature?

This raises a big question mark.

"A story? What story?" Li Qingquan, who was standing to the side, also became curious.

"Harmful."

Jiang Xian smiled and said, "I made up some stories to lull my daughter to sleep, and Zhu Lin thought they were good and kept suggesting that I write them down."

"You made up a story to lull your daughter to sleep?" Li Qingquan's eyes widened.

This is too luxurious!

At the same time, one can't help but sigh at how much Jiang Xian, as a father, dotes on his daughter.

A writer whose words are considered priceless has dedicated his most precious inspiration to his daughter's childhood.

Who wouldn't be moved by this story?
“I think that story is great, suitable for both adults and children. Lao Jiang has never had time to write it, and I think this is a good opportunity.”

Zhu Lin once again advised Jiang Xian, "You've been busy with 'Stories from the Editorial Department,' and now the TV series is about to air. Why worry so much? I think you should quickly shift your focus back to writing."

"haha, yes."

Li Qingquan strongly agreed with Zhu Lin's words: "I have long been against the Writers Association assigning you too many tasks. Our Writers Association does not lack a good worker, but our country lacks a good writer. Comrade Jiang Xian, you should grasp your own focus and write more good works while you can still write. Writing requires the right time, place and people. You know how hard it is to produce a novel. As for other things, in my opinion, there is no time to do them."

"I understand that principle."

Jiang Xian's expression was complicated.

He understood everything Zhu Lin said, and he also longed to finish writing this children's literature piece, a synthesis of the inspirations of "pilot" and "adventure."

But this is a foreign novel.

If it's not revised properly, it could really ruin this world-class classic.

(End of this chapter)