1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 7 Jiang Xian's Little Thoughts

“Unemployed youth” are absolutely beyond the reach of “flexible employment”.

Although you are truly “unemployed”, the country is really thinking about you.

Jiang Xian had not gone out to look for work for just two days when two street officials came to visit him in person.

There was a woman and a man. The woman was Aunt Liu, Jiang Xian’s neighbor. She was quite old and very energetic, with a red armband on her left arm.

"Yuemei, I'm at home."

"Oh, Aunt Liu, please take a seat. Jiang Xian, go make a pot of tea."

Jiang Xian, who was sitting at the three-drawer table, immediately put down his pen and ran to make two cups of "Gao Moer".

"Gao Moer" is an elegant name, and indecent name is "Shua Hu Jing". Have you seen "Camel Xiangzi"? This is what Xiangzi drinks. He holds a steamed bun made by his wife in his arms, some pickled vegetables, and drinks a cup of Shuan Hu Jing, which is Xiangzi's meal.

Later, some people would go to "Zhang Yiyuan" to queue up to buy high-end coins. When Xiangzi knew about this, he would laugh so hard that he would come alive.

Rao Yuemei brought over an enamel teacup with a peony flower painted on the side and handed it to Aunt Liu, asking about it.

"Aunt Liu, isn't there any information about job openings right now? You're talking about the short-term jobs on the street. Today you work 3 days here, tomorrow you work 5 days there. It's like guerrilla warfare, jumping around all the time. It's really outrageous."

Aunt Liu took a sip of water and said, "In fact, there is information about job openings in the society."

Rao Yuemei immediately became excited.

"Yeah, is that true?"

"Yes, the construction industry is recruiting a group of young workers recently. Are you willing to let your child go?"

"Waxiao" and "Wa Niu" refer to young male and female workers in the construction industry.

At that time, society was very prejudiced against construction workers, believing that this was a job done by "blind migrants" from the rural areas who came to the city, and was full of discrimination against them.

Jiang Kun talked about this in one of his crosstalks. Because of secular prejudices, it was difficult for construction workers at that time to find a partner.

Rao Yuemei waved her hands vigorously, "Wa Xiao. How can this be possible?"

She could not make a decision that goes against her ancestors even if she was beaten to death.

Jiang Xian's father was a national technical backbone and a senior intellectual, but his son became a teacher? How disgraceful!
"Look at me, I know you don't like it." Aunt Liu snorted coldly and took another sip of water. "Don't be so dismissive. For this kind of job, most people can't even get a number if they want to go."

Rao Yuemei did not give up.

"Aunt Liu, are there no other positions opening?"

"Railways and ports are recruiting stevedores. They have to take an on-site test and carry a 100-catties bag for 50 meters."

"You are so young, what if you get hurt?"

"The water company's well-drilling team also recruits workers, and they have to move around to work in other places all year round."

"Out of town? Then you might as well stay in the countryside instead of going back to the city."

"District Gardening Team."

"Roadworker?"

Jiang Xian was laughing happily as he listened to it.

At this time, another male director, a middle-aged man named Wu Jianguo, patted him on the shoulder.

"You must be Jiang Xian."

"it's me."

Wu Jianguo nodded, holding the teacup, as if he had something to say. After thinking for a long time, he just lacked a topic. He paced on the spot for a few steps, and finally his eyes fell on the unfinished "The Chess King".

"What is written on it?"

"novel."

"A manuscript?"

"No, it's a novel I wrote myself." Jiang Xian answered honestly.

“Oh~~~” Wu Jianguo’s eyes lit up.

"You haven't been out doing any work these past two days, so you've just been writing this at home?"

"Not really. I went out to do some work, but I spent most of the time at home writing."

"Writing novels?" He snorted, half-sitting on the three-drawer table, showing his identity as an experienced person.

"My child, I used to love literature and daydream about literature, but what's the point? You'd better stop daydreaming and like literature. Literature is a thing you..."

"I can't control it?" Jiang Xian answered quickly.

"That's right." Wu Jianguo slapped his thigh, "You can't control it."

As he spoke, he took out a pack of Haihe cigarettes from his pocket and lit them up. He then picked up the manuscript on the table and glanced at the words on it.

[I noticed that he was very interested in eating, so I paid attention to him when he was eating. When the train delivered meals to our carriages for educated youth, he would be a little uneasy if his mind was not on playing chess. When he heard the clattering of aluminum boxes when people in front of him were taking food, he would often close his eyes and tightly close his mouth, as if he was feeling a little nauseous.]
[After receiving the food, he started eating immediately. He ate very quickly, his throat contracting and his face tensed. He often stopped suddenly and carefully wiped the rice and soup on his lips or chin into his mouth with his entire index finger.]
"Huh?" Wu Jianguo was surprised. He took off his glasses and his pupils widened a little.

He had experienced the Great Famine, eaten steamed rice, and was a person who had truly gone hungry.

So when I saw this, I immediately resonated with it and had a feeling of "this is me" and "this is me".

"You wrote about 'eating' really well here!" "Thank you for the compliment."

"Are you a sent-down youth?"

"Yes."

"You must have been hungry a lot in the countryside."

Jiang Xian didn't answer.

The original body actually doesn't have many memories of being hungry.

When we went to the countryside, the state supplied commercial grain, 42 kilograms per person per month, and we also received a salary of more than 20 yuan.

It's because there is a shortage of oil. There is only 5 cents of oil per month. My cheeks are swollen and I feel so greedy that I feel anxious.

He was distracted for a moment and found that Wu Jianguo had been sitting upright in front of a three-drawer table.

I saw him holding the unfinished "The Chess King", reading quickly line by line, his eyes becoming particularly focused.

The cigarette in his hand burned out little by little until the cigarette butt burned his fingers, and then he threw it away with a "hiss".

"Did this Wang Yisheng die in the end?"

"I haven't thought about the ending yet, but I won't die for sure." Jiang Xian responded.

He did not find Wu Jianguo's guess strange. At his age, he was deeply influenced by Russian and Soviet literary works, so he would naturally substitute Wang Yisheng into works such as "Anna Karenina". In these books, narrow personal consciousness is often the root cause of tragic fate.

"Did you really write this? That's great, it's the same as the article published in People's Literature!"

"You are too kind."

"You must keep writing. Our area has not produced any literary writers since our grandfather's generation. I am very optimistic about you!"

At that time, due to the tense relationship with overseas provinces, Lin Haiyin, who lived in Nanliu Lane in the north, was still unknown. It was not until Chen Huangmei recommended her to the Shanghai Film Studio and the movie "A Boy from the South of the City" was released in 83 that she became famous.

Jiang Xian was like a string of ivy, climbing up the pole.

"Uncle, if you really think highly of me, why not give me some support? You see, I'm busy taking on jobs and working every day, and I really don't have much spare time to write."

Wu Jianguo waved his hands vigilantly.

"The 'relationships and backdoors' approach doesn't work with me."

"You think too much. How can I let you make a mistake? I mean - 'recommend'. If you see a suitable vacancy, please recommend me."

Jiang Xian said as he handed Wu Jianguo a cigarette.

"Uncle, I want to improve so much!"

This guy is an educated youth?
Why is it so oily?

Wu Jianguo hesitated for a moment, then called out to the other side of the room, "Deputy Director Liu, didn't the Medical College ask the street office to introduce a handyman? I think Jiang Xian is quite suitable. Let him take over. What do you think?"

"Ah?" Aunt Liu was stunned for a moment, but quickly reacted, "Director, whatever you think is appropriate, I'll listen to you."

Jiang Xianyi heard that it was an easy job in the school, and quickly grabbed Wu Jianguo's arm, "Thank you for your trust, please rest assured, I will seriously study and implement Zhang Side's spirit, outstanding labor creation, selfless hard work and dedication."

Zhang Side was an ordinary Red Army soldier. After his death, the teacher personally attended his memorial service, wrote a eulogy and gave a speech: "Serve the People". These five words were later written on the gate of Zn Hai.

As expected of a novelist.

Wu Jianguo was somewhat moved by what he heard.

"Remember to tell me when the novel is published. I will read it."

"You're welcome. Of course, of course."

This is how it is settled.

Wu Jianguo left with a heart full of anticipation, while Aunt Liu left with a heart full of confusion.

Jiang Xian walked them to the door and looked at their backs.

Medical school?
That is the research institution: Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences.

It is integrated with Beijing Union Medical College.

You know Zhu Lin, the one who played the Queen of the Kingdom of Women in the 82 version of Journey to the West. She is currently studying there.
Far away.

It will definitely take some time to finish writing "The Chess King" and publish it successfully.

Find a relatively easy and stable job, and you will be able to live a more comfortable life during this period.

The school handyman?
Make money, make money.

It’s their fault that their street doesn’t organize the sale of big bowls of tea.

The guy sat back at the table, laid out the manuscript paper, and started working with his pen.

Wait until the stars are sparse and the moon is bright before you put down your pen.

Stretch and yawn.

"Finally I've finished writing."

(End of this chapter)