1979: My fiancée is a goddess

Chapter 393: Continue to create, the literary award is coming
"My reputation, my fortune, everything I have is tied to you... As long as you nod, the most sacred ceremony can be performed at any time."

"My dear Clarissa, you are so nervous, your imagination is so vivid! How could I possibly hurt you?"

Night in the countryside.

After days of continuous rain, the sky was clear and ethereal.

From the lush green forests in the distance, there were rustling sounds. It was the chirping of cicadas and the mountain breeze blowing through the woods, grass and lakes.

The freshness of the lake water, the bitterness of the grass, the fragrance of the wild flowers, the noisy chirping of cicadas...

These beautiful summer days were brought into the bedroom on the second floor by the gentle cool breeze.

The elegant Western-style emerald table lamp illuminates the simple room, which is only equipped with a bed, wardrobe, desk and sofa, into a half-bright and half-dark space.

The room was not decorated in a warm, sweet, cute and touching style like other little girls of this age.

Her bed was not filled with cute dolls and stuffed toys like those of the rich and aristocratic ladies in Shanghai.

White sheets, white quilt, white pillows, and the slightly open wardrobe only shows clothes in black, white and gray.

The whole room was meticulous and tidy to an alarming degree.

Even the dozen or so puppet figures on the windowsill opposite the desk that her sister Cun Anan brought back from England, the directions of their placement, the weapons in their hands, and their hats were all moved in one direction by Cao Hanyu.

The parts that could not be twisted were removed by her and thrown into a small box made from a squirrel skull.

Within the scope of her control, everything must obey certain rules and will of existence.

In front of the desk.

The girl, dressed in a white, semi-transparent, thin silk dress, sat dignified and elegantly on a soft leather chair.

Holding a book written entirely in English in his hands, he read and recited the dialogues in the book.

Clarissa

Cao Hanyu has been reading this epistolary novel of almost a million words for five days.

Due to the fact that the article was entirely in English and had a large number of words, she could only read one-third of it.

The poor noble lady had just escaped from her brutal and cruel father, but was targeted by a guy who was as vicious as a jackal and as hypocritical as a poisonous snake.

"Look at what this man said."

Cao Hanyu's thin lips were almost pressed into a line, and her delicate and pointed face was expressionless. She laughed almost as hard as ice and chanted in a righteous tone:

"How much have I done for you? I risked my life to 'save' you from your tyrannical family! Is this how you repay my 'sacrifice' and 'affection'?"

"Look at your current situation. Where can you go without me? Your family has already abandoned you! I am the only one who truly cares about you."

"Tsk... What a disgusting, despicable, disgusting scum.

He took advantage of Clarissa's kindness, loneliness, and cherishment of reputation. Although he did not use physical violence, the mental prison he constructed through words was even more terrifying.

He deserves the most severe punishment from God!"

The girl's cold sarcasm, this method of defeating and controlling a person mentally is really unheard of and makes people terrified.

But she thought: If such a man met a girl like herself who was smart, determined and capable of execution, he would not be able to succeed.

"I will definitely send him to prison and let him reflect on his actions for the rest of his life!"

Cao Hanyu bit his porcelain-white teeth, his tone and manner were so firm as if he was swearing an oath to the Almighty.

"puff--"

Pulling out a silver bookmark and stuffing it into the book, the girl closed the book, stood up and lay back on the bed.

Eight o'clock at night.

For a growing girl, sleep is very important.

Curled up in the soft bed, looking at the ceiling above his head, Cao Hanyu suddenly missed his brother.

"Brother Mingzheng."

……

“Brother Yan!”

"My sister wants to paint a portrait, so she asked me if you want to be a nude model!"

Half past eight in the morning.

The clouds and rain in the sky stopped, and the sun, which had been hidden by dark clouds, came out.

After all, North China, where the capital is located, is a dry and cold place.

Except for summer, rain in other seasons will not exceed three days.

Cheng Kaiyan put down his pen, picked up the teacup on the table and took a gulp, feeling the cool wind outside the window, and felt like he was back in winter.

It's not surprising that there is a late spring cold snap.

Cheng Kaiyan was just about to get up and put on more clothes to prevent catching a cold.

But at this moment, a dark shadow rushed in from outside the window, followed by a clear and sweet voice.

The girl Zhan Xinyu suddenly jumped out from the corner again.

"What mannequin? No way!"

Cheng Kaiyan shook his head and refused firmly. Sister Wen Lei had secretly contacted him yesterday and said that she wanted to draw a nude portrait while her husband was not at home, and asked him to help as a nude model.

God damn it, while my husband is not at home!
This kind of human body painting depicts naked bodies, with all clothes taken off.

It's a good thing she could say it without blushing or getting nervous!
As expected, young women are all like this, not shy or impatient, and are bold and unrestrained.

Cheng Kaiyan shook her head and looked at her sister. "Today is Wednesday, right? You should go to class, right? It's already half past eight, and you're already half an hour late!"

"Hey, I caught a cold and had a fever yesterday, so I asked Wanwan to ask for leave for me. My sister will take me to the clinic to get an IV drip later."

Zhan Xinyu put her hands on her hips and said with a smile.

"...You seem pretty proud of yourself, right? I'll see how your grades are this year and we'll know the results in the college entrance exam next year."

Cheng Kaiyan was very disappointed with her students. No matter what time it was, the students didn't want to attend class.

"Isn't there still a year left?"

Zhan Xinyu disagreed, it seemed that he was a poor student.

"..."

Cheng Kaiyan was speechless. "Come on, come on, I'll take you to get a butt shot, and then you can go to class quickly."

"I do not want it!"

Zhan Xinyu blushed, firmly refused, and ran back to report the news.

"Go out for a walk and come back to write."

After watching the little girl leave, Cheng Kaiyan went back to the house, got an umbrella, and walked out.

We walked through the alleys and arrived at Wangfujing Street.

Now it is March 10th, and all the major universities in Beijing have already started classes.

More and more young college students have returned to this prosperous city from their hometowns, making the streets of the capital more lively.

Young people wearing spring clothes and Zhongshan suits can be seen everywhere in groups of three or five, chatting on the streets about study, international affairs and literature with high spirits.

Cheng Kaiyan walked through the gray streets, passing through a sea of ​​gray-blue Zhongshan suits, passed by a bookstore, and stopped.

Several young intellectuals were holding a newspaper and chatting animatedly about current affairs.

"Have you heard that Mr. Mao Dun is seriously ill and is in the hospital?"

"Really? What's going on?"

"I heard that his health condition has worsened."

"what!"

The young man who was speaking had red eyes. Mr. Mao Dun was the object of admiration for many young intellectuals.

Upon hearing the news, many people present were shocked and horrified.

"He even donated all his lifetime royalties, saying he was going to set up the Mao Dun Literature Prize!"

"Mr. Mao is truly a man of high character. Two hundred and fifty thousand is not a small sum. It can be regarded as his last contribution to the literary world."

"Yes."

Everyone sighed with emotion and was full of admiration.

"Hey……"

Cheng Kaiyan listened to the discussion, shook his head, lowered the brim of his red star hat, and walked into the bookstore. "Comrade, give me a copy of the People's Daily!"

"Okay, get it yourself."

The freshly printed newspaper was still warm in my hand, and the bold characters were clear.

Front page headline:

"The All-China Women's Federation held a reportage meeting in commemoration of the International Women's Day on March 8 at the People's Hall, emphasizing that:

The Women’s Federation should focus on nurturing, training and educating more than 300 million children and teenagers, and it mentioned the proposal to prepare for the establishment of the China Children’s Foundation…”

"Mr. Mao Dun, a famous writer and chairman of the National Writers Association, recently wrote a letter to the Secretariat of the National Writers Association to donate 250,000 yuan in royalties!

The Writers Association said that it will establish a literary award, the Mao Dun Literature Award, in accordance with Mr. Mao’s wishes. The award is currently being prepared and will become one of the fourth pure literature awards in the domestic literary world..."

……

"The Mao Dun Literature Prize is coming next year. I remember that this prize is only awarded to novels with more than 130,000 words. It should be coming next year. But only four?"

Cheng Kaiyan scanned the important news in the newspaper one by one and found that apart from these few things, there was also a report that most of the cultural relics in a certain place were burned down in a fire, and there was no other major news afterwards.

The major literary awards currently available in China include the National Excellent Children's Literature Award, the National Excellent Short Story Award, and the Mao Dun Literature Award which is still under preparation.

There are only three of these?
What about another one?

At this time, a few young college students came behind me, chattering.

"Shufen, have you sent your vote for the National Excellent Novella Award of the Literary Gazette? Be sure to vote for Teacher Zhan Rong's "Middle-Aged Man"! It's really well written!
Teacher Zhan Rong tried the stream-of-consciousness writing method, which not only describes the real situation in front of the characters, but also the characters' memories, associations, imagination and hallucinations.

After watching it, I realized that this is stream of consciousness! It’s not mysterious at all! I can understand it all.”

A girl with short braided hair held the shoulders of a girl named Shufen, shaking her excitedly and shouting.

"No, I want to vote for Teacher Xiao Cheng."

When Shufen heard her classmates' recommendation, she shook her head firmly: "I don't want to submit it to "Middle-aged People". Middle-aged people doesn't sound good.

We are all still young people in our prime and full of vigor and vitality, so of course we should vote for Teacher Cheng who is also in his prime! "

"Okay, we should vote for Teacher Cheng. After all, we are from the same school."

The girl who just said she wanted to support Teacher Zhan Rong thought about it and changed her mind.

"That's right! Teacher Cheng is so nice. It seems like he didn't come to the foreign literature appreciation class this semester? I haven't seen him in school either."

Another long-haired girl nodded heavily and then asked curiously.

"Didn't Professor Jiang say that your teacher Xiao Cheng has been busy studying and creating works recently, and will be back to school in a while."

Shufen explained.

“The Novella Award!”

Cheng Kaiyan paid for the newspaper and listened to the female college students behind her, and then she understood which four seats they were.

So he turned around and smiled and continued, "It will probably take another month or two."

When the three girls heard a gay man talking to them, they immediately frowned and felt uneasy.

After returning to Beijing to go to school recently, I heard from people in my school and other schools that there are a lot of thugs on the streets of Beijing who specialize in harassing young girls.

"what!!"

"It's Teacher Xiao Cheng! Ahhh!"

But when they looked up, they immediately screamed in surprise.

Who else could this young man be but Teacher Cheng Kaiyan, who has a good appearance, a cheerful temperament and a strong scholarly air?

"Speak softly, don't disturb others."

Cheng Kaiyan said quickly.

"Yes Yes Yes!"

The three girls nodded in succession, and then asked expectantly: "What work are you writing recently, Teacher Cheng? We will all vote for you for this year's literature award! Can you tell us?"

"Well...thank you for your support. The new work is set in the Republic of China and is about the love, desire, and sin between three young men and women."

Cheng Kaiyan pondered for a few seconds and introduced.

The troubled Republic of China? The love-hate relationship between three young people?

The three girls looked at each other, thinking of many things at once, and said excitedly: "I'm looking forward to it! I really want to see it now!"

"It won't be long."

"Come on! We will always support Teacher Xiao Cheng!"

Shufen clenched her fists and waved her hands, shouting with a red face.

"Thank you."

Cheng Kaiyan smiled, chatted briefly with a few girls, then turned around and left with the newspaper.

Time to get back to writing.

……

"Screw rustle..."

The pen tip wrote on the manuscript paper, and azure blue characters appeared one by one:
July 15, 1934, the Republic of China.

Cold leaden clouds hung over the largest city in the Far East, and the rain fell heavily.

The surface of the Huangpu River glowed copper-green in the setting sun, and the black-sailed boats loaded with gauze bags were bobbing in the oily water like floating corpses.

The HSBC Building, known as "the most exquisite building from the Suez Canal to the Bering Strait", stands in the thick drizzle, like a giant, elegantly and somewhat melancholy watching the foreign soldiers marching by.

International Settlement, Nanjing Road.

Five p.m.

This street is known as the "Ten Miles of Foreign Lands" and is the most prosperous street.

The streets were soaked like a wet cotton-padded jacket, with rotten sycamore leaves and cigarette butts squeezed into the cracks between the stone slabs, swollen into a yellow-brown color, and the passing traffic created waves of water.

A tall and thin young man wearing a white shirt with a black vest tucked inside walked out of a five-story building on the street holding a black umbrella.

"Two corners of the main road! Two dimes for Waibaidu Bridge!"

A rickshaw driver with a sallow complexion and bare chest shouted hoarsely, hunched over and pulling a rickshaw passing by. He hurriedly stopped, raised his head and glanced, then immediately bowed his head and greeted, "Sir... where are you going?"

“To Sincere Company!”

Jiang Ming straightened his tie, picked up his briefcase and got on the rickshaw.

"Go! Sir, sit tight—"

"Ding Ding Ding-"

Amid the noisy sounds of whistles and hawking, the rickshaw arrived at the Sincere Company Building, one of the four largest department stores in Shanghai.

The bright lights shine through the huge glass of the department store and are reflected on the dirty streets. The tiled floor is so clean that one cannot bear to defile it.

In the shops along the street, the valuable goods in the cabinets exude a sparkling brilliance of jewels.

"Don't ask ~ what year it is today? Every day is a land of music and joy!"

A soft and melodious song came from the loudspeakers of the department store. It was "Prosperous Entertainment" by the famous Cantonese opera singer Zhang Yue'er.

Cars passing by on the street, and rickshaws with rich ladies and young ladies wearing expensive cheongsams and high heels stopped here one after another.

Jiang Mingzheng casually took out two dimes and threw it away, then turned and walked into the department store.

After purchasing a silk scarf and a ladies' watch at the store, Jiang Mingzheng took a rickshaw again and returned to a single apartment in the French Concession.

The monthly rent is thirty silver dollars.

Jiang Mingzheng studied abroad at a prestigious British university and worked as an English editor for a newspaper, earning a high salary of 100 silver dollars a month.

But rent accounts for one third.

Nine o'clock in the evening.

The lights of the French Concession outside the window are still bright, and the streets are bustling with lights and people.

After washing up.

Jiang Ming was sitting at his desk, writing a letter, his brows furrowed and his expression slightly gloomy.

"Dear Cee, I plan to end my job at the newspaper, this annoying, disgusting, and numb job. I plan to go to Japan to study medicine..."

(End of this chapter)