1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 575 "Afraid of delaying his path to becoming an official!"

At a book signing event, Jiang Xian didn't receive a single penny in compensation; on the contrary, he spent a considerable amount because he bought two sets of each author's signed book.

It doesn't really matter.

This book signing event was a charity event; nobody expected to make any money.

Moreover, we should take a longer-term view.

The benefits of book signings will gradually become apparent. The increase in the author's fame and the closer relationship with readers will also boost the sales of their works, so it's not entirely without advantages.

As for these signed books, the authors present are all renowned figures in later generations. These books will become valuable collectibles in the future. Moreover, Jiang Xian is not short of money, and it's something he can do easily, so why not?

The key is that it can also do favors for everyone present, bring people closer together, and in the future, we can form a "Jiang Family Clique". Well, I don't mean to form a faction, but rather that this "Jiang Family Clique" does not exist subjectively, but it does exist objectively.

Carrying bundles of books, the officials in Haidian certainly wouldn't let Jiang Xian take them home like that. They specially arranged a car for him and the books to be taken home. In short, they treated him with great respect.

"I bought too many books. There's not enough room in the house. This bookshelf is too small." Jiang Xuan started to worry as soon as he got back to Tuanjiehu.

"You're worried about not having a place to put it?" Zhu Lin rolled her eyes. "It's one thing for others not to have a place to put it, but we don't lack houses."

Others in their thirties might not even have been allocated an apartment, and their entire families still have to squeeze into a small staff dormitory of just a few square meters, where the smells of sweat, urine, feet, and food all mix together every day.

However, Jiang Xian, in his thirties, was already the owner of multiple properties. Not to mention those abroad, just in Beijing, besides the three properties in Jingshan East, Cuihua Hutong, and Tuanjiehu, his father, Jiang Guoqing, recently helped Jiang Xian acquire a large area of ​​dilapidated rural houses in the suburbs of Beijing.

Zhu Lin couldn't understand why anyone would buy a house in that godforsaken place on the outskirts of Beijing.

Who lives here?
However, at home, she always listened to him on small matters and Jiang Xian on big matters. Based on Jiang Xian's many correct choices, she always trusted her husband's judgment. Moreover, Jiang Xian was not the kind of person who would make decisions on his own without consulting her.

He spent an entire evening explaining to Zhu Lin the population and housing issues, as well as the future expansion of the capital. Zhu Lin was completely stunned by what he heard. Even places like Fangjiazhuang and Panggezhuang, the "vegetable baskets" of the capital, would become incredibly valuable land in the future.

And Xinfadi.

It was originally called the New Cemetery, which was adjacent to the Qing Dynasty's royal hunting grounds. It was called the New Cemetery because it was the burial ground of the gatekeepers of the royal hunting grounds for generations.

However, in 1958, the cemetery here was leveled and renamed Xinfadi.

Jiang Xian said that even that area will be a treasure land in the future.

I don't know what Zhu Lin should say.

Oh well, he still has such a large business in the US anyway, let him do whatever he wants with the house.

Zhu Lin knew that her husband was obsessed with houses, so she chose to trust his decision.

She thought it through very clearly.

Even if I wanted to help Jiang Xian, I couldn't do anything, so at least I shouldn't hold him back.

On the other hand, Jiang Xian was planning to set aside a room specifically for his collection of books to store in his warehouse. He would also need to hire two people to keep an eye on the books every day to prevent them from getting rotten or moldy, and to prevent them from being stolen. He figured that if these things got into the hands of thieves, they would just be sold as second-hand books or waste paper.

Besides books, he has also collected quite a few antiques over the years.

Antiques are indeed a business opportunity these days. There are too many people who have made their fortunes by dealing in antiques. But it doesn't sound good to talk about it, so after they get rich, they all make up a new story of hard work and struggle for themselves, like Tang Sanzang's lover, the "Woman King".

Oh dear, just mentioning this "Queen of Women" evokes mixed feelings in many old Beijing residents.

The Plain Yellow Banner, descendants of the Yehe Nara clan, are related to Empress Dowager Cixi, who ruled from behind the curtain.

What's particularly interesting is that there's a prophecy about the Yehenara family that has been passed down for three hundred years: "Even if only one woman remains in the Yehenara family, she will still destroy the Aisin Gioro clan."

It was as if there was some kind of guidance in the dark, but let's leave that aside for now. As for this woman, by her generation, the so-called Yehenara family had long since fallen into decline. She didn't even finish high school and went to work as an apprentice in a furniture store, dealing with old tables and chairs all day long.

Well, what do you mean by "old tables and chairs"? It doesn't mean broken chairs and benches.

Those are all made of rosewood and huanghuali wood, all these old objects!

What others see as junk, she sees as treasure.

And then it collapsed!
Yes, that's how they made their fortune.

Then he turned around and labeled himself an "antique enthusiast".

You might call her an "antique enthusiast," but then she did something truly earth-shattering: she razed the entire Jinbao Street area and rebuilt it.

That place is no ordinary place; it's called Dayaobao Hutong and Suianbo Hutong.

That is the former residence of Mr. Mei Lanfang, and Shen Congwen lived there in his later years.

As a result, with the sound of excavators, more than 400 old courtyards, along with the romantic stories of literati, were reduced to rubble.

In short, Jiang Xian knew there was a way out by dealing in antiques, but he disdained to do it and saw no need for it.

Others may collect antiques to make a fortune through reselling.

He collects antiques; it's purely a hobby for him.

Like I said before, there's no need for that.

Jiang Xian has always followed the right path and has no interest in these crooked ways. Besides, he has built such a good public image now, so there's no need for him to risk his reputation for such a small amount of money.

It's almost 1988, and the 80s are drawing to a close.

Next came the late 80s and early 90s, a bizarre and fantastical era.

Jiang Xian saw things clearly.

He just needs to keep walking steadily forward, neither too fast nor too slow.

Taking too small a step will get you kicked out of the game by the times, while taking too big a step will easily lead to disaster.

"Little Ma, don't be discouraged. I'll introduce you to other publications."

At Liu Xinwu's home, Liu Xinwu, Ma Jian, and Gao Xingjian were sitting around the table.

“Yes, Xiao Ma, your novel is excellent enough. Don’t be discouraged by this rejection,” Gao Xingjian advised, echoing Liu Xinwu’s words.

Gao Xingjian is 47 years old this year. His hair is gray and recedes, with a high hairline. He has many wrinkles on his face and a thin build, but he still looks very dashing.

Liu Zaifu once said: "Gao Xingjian is a typical exiled writer. He has experienced exile many times in his life, about five times. His history of exile could be written into a very interesting book."

When he was young, influenced by his family, he wanted to be a physicist or mathematician. At the same time, because he loved acting with his mother since he was a child, he also wanted to apply to a drama school. However, he had to give up because he did not meet the application requirements for the directing department. Finally, he wanted to be a painter, but his mother persuaded him to give up again.

In the end, Gao Xingjian became a French translator.

Later, I did translation work for a long time, accompanying many writers, such as Ba Jin, to go abroad and translating for them, gradually accumulating writing experience.

In short, Gao Xingjian did not begin his writing career until he was forty years old, after becoming a playwright at the Beijing People's Art Theatre.

After that, something else happened. He was a screenwriter at the time, and he wrote a play. After He Jingzhi read it, he said that the play was extremely vicious and that Gao Xingjian should be sent to places like Qinghai.

Upon learning this information, playwright Su Shuyang rushed to inform Gao Xingjian overnight. Gao Xingjian was so frightened that he fled the capital and began a period of exile.

This exile began in the Yangtze River basin, thousands of miles away, then moved north to the Daxue Mountains, and finally south to the deep forests of the Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau.
Compared to Gao Xingjian, Jiang Xian was lucky. Even though Lao He didn't like him, it didn't have to come to the point of him having to go into exile in the deep mountains and forests to live like a wild man.

Of course, fortune and misfortune are intertwined, and thanks to this exile, Gao Xingjian wrote what can be called the most wonderful novel of his life—"Soul Mountain".

Many critics consider this novel to be the pinnacle of Chinese literature.

This is a matter of opinion, and opinions may vary.

Because many people probably haven't even heard of this novel. That's not your fault; the novel itself is written in an extremely obscure style, so its popularity is naturally low, and it's quite niche.

But in terms of skill level, it's definitely not bad.

Because Gao Xingjian won the 2000 Nobel Prize in Literature with this novel.

While the Nobel Prize may have many issues regarding politics, it is quite objective in terms of literary merit. Therefore, "Soul Mountain" can indeed be considered Gao Xingjian's best representative work.

At this time, Gao Xingjian was still in China, still Chinese, and he felt very sad when he heard that Ma Jian's novel had been stopped by Jiang Xian:

"It would be a real shame if it couldn't be published in People's Literature. I thought you, Xinwu, could handle this, but I didn't expect Jiang Xian to personally get involved. And he's such a person who advocates for diverse styles, I never thought he would act as an obstacle to this novel."

"Don't assume that just because he writes root-seeking novels or avant-garde novels, he's enlightened. He has his limitations!" Liu Xinwu said indignantly.

“Sigh.” Ma Jian sighed. Liu Xinwu had already informed him of the good news that the manuscript had been approved, but then this mess happened. It was truly a fall from heaven to hell.

It's impossible for him not to hate Jiang Xian.

He didn't understand Jiang Xian.

Jiang Xian's propositions and ideas were so exciting to him. Jiang Xian was like a spiritual mentor to him, always bringing him new inspiration.

The person who stopped him from reading his novel was none other than Jiang Xian, whom he regarded as a kindred spirit.

Ma Jian didn't understand. He felt extremely confused and disappointed with Jiang Xian.

"Do you know what he's been writing lately?" Liu Xinwu suddenly sneered.

"What are you writing?" Gao Xingjian and Ma Jian both looked at Liu Xinwu with curiosity.

"Children's literature." Liu Xinwu scoffed. "Isn't that absurd? Is this the kind of thing that Jiang Xian used to write?"

"Children's literature?"

"real or fake?"

Gao Xingjian and Ma Jian were both stunned for a moment, finding it hard to believe. After all, what kind of novelist was Jiang Xian? He was the author of novels like "You Have No Choice" and "Variations Without a Theme," whose dissatisfaction and anger towards repression were so intense that they seemed to be shooting arrows through his words.

It's truly unbelievable that a writer like him would suddenly switch to writing children's literature.

“He also wrote ‘The Grass House’ before,” Gao Xingjian reminded him, stroking his chin. “‘The Grass House’ is quite well-written, especially beautiful. I read it once before, and you can see that Jiang Xian’s writing in this area is different from others; he can write things that others cannot.”

"That was a long time ago."

Liu Xinwu snorted coldly, "Haven't written anything in so many years, and now you suddenly want to write about truth, goodness, and beauty? I think you're afraid that writing other things will delay your official career!"

"."

Neither Ma Jian nor Gao Xingjian dared to respond to Liu Xinwu's comment.

After all, Jiang Xian is a big figure in the cultural world.

Liu Xinwu wasn't afraid of offending Jiang Xian; the two had a long history of old and new grudges and had offended each other to death.

They couldn't afford to offend either of them, and Gao Xingjian didn't want to offend Jiang Xian either. He was going abroad at the end of the year and it was uncertain whether he would come back. It wasn't worth causing any more trouble.

"Old Liu, what children's literature? Do you know the name?" Gao Xingjian asked.

"What's so interesting about children's literature?"

Liu Xinwu said disdainfully, "They're nothing more than little stories to pass the time for kids."

"Haha, that's true." Gao Xingjian laughed awkwardly a few times.

In the following days, Gao Xingjian continued to visit Liu Xinwu's home frequently. He had decided to go abroad, and there would not be many opportunities to sit with this friend again in the future.

Ma Jian came again that day, looking rather unwell, his lips pursed. Liu Xinwu was somewhat surprised to see him.

"Little Ma, are you sick? Why do you look so pale?"

"."

Ma Jian sat down, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Yesterday I had dinner with two writer friends who are studying at the Lu Xun Academy of Literature. They gave me a novel, saying it was the top-ranked graduation project from their academy this year."

"Graduation project from the Lu Xun Academy of Literature?"

Liu Xinwu became interested. "The writers from Lu Xun Academy are the backbone of our literary world. Their graduation works must be the most outstanding works at the forefront of our literary scene."

"Yes."

Gao Xingjian nodded, "To win first place among this group's graduation projects is even harder than winning a national outstanding novel award. Who won first place?"

"."

Ma Jian hesitated for a moment before saying a name: "Jiang Xian".

"Jiang Xian?"

Liu Xinwu and Gao Xingjian were both taken aback, having overlooked the fact that the editor-in-chief of People's Literature was still studying at the Lu Xun Academy of Literature.

Which novel won first place?

"The Troublemakers?"

"Variations Without a Theme?"

Liu Xinwu guessed several novels, but Ma Jian shook his head:
"No."

"It's called 'The Little Prince'."

"A children's literature novel."

(End of this chapter)