My era, 1979!

Chapter 156 "Zhongshan" - Invitation to Submit Manuscript

As the sun set, the performance continued, with songs, laughter, and applause mingling together, drifting across the military region's parade ground and in the winds of 1979.

Xu Chengjun looked at the scene before him, holding the bullet casing ornament given to him by the veteran.

This performance was quite good.

There is no glamorous stage, but there is the truest affection.

There is no deliberate attempt to evoke emotion, yet it possesses the most touching truth.

The song "Green Flowers in the Army," borrowed from later generations, has now truly taken root in this military green, becoming a song belonging to these soldiers.

After Xu Chengjun's "Green Flowers in the Army" came to an end, the applause lasted for a full three minutes before gradually subsiding.

The host, Xiao Yang, walked onto the stage, smiling and wiping the corner of his eye: "This song brought me to tears! But the rest of the show will be just as exciting, so let's continue!"

The first performance was the dance "The Laundry Song" by the military region's cultural troupe.

Six girls in blue cotton shirts carried wooden basins onto the stage, twirling to a light rhythm, the "water splashes" in the basins swaying along with them, just like they were really washing clothes for soldiers by the river.

The villagers in the audience were the first to applaud, and Aunt Wang even hummed along.

This was a song she often heard in her village when she was young, and she never expected to hear it again in the army camp. A soldier leaned close to his comrade and whispered, "This dance is much better than our training drills!"

It made the people around them laugh.

Next up was a scene from Tao Yuling's play, specifically the part in "The Story of Liubao" where "Second Sister Delivers Shoes".

She was wearing a gray military uniform and holding a pair of cloth shoes in her hand. She walked to the edge of the stage and said to the "soldier": "Remember, put these on when it gets cold, so your feet don't get cold."

Her voice was as soft as cotton, and the veterans in the audience fell silent.

Many people joined the army after watching this movie, and now, seeing "Second Sister" again, their eyes are filled with memories.

After the performance, Tao Yuling bowed and said with a smile, "These shoes are for all the soldiers who defend our country!"

Applause immediately erupted from the audience, and someone shouted, "Teacher Tao, please perform another scene!"

Next up were the soldiers' own performances.

Wang Xiaohu from the Third Company and two comrades performed a fast-paced storytelling routine titled "Busy Training".

"With that clapping of bamboo clappers, let's not praise anything else, but let's praise the good lads of our company, their great enthusiasm for training!"

Wang Xiaohu's clapping skills weren't as refined as Squad Leader Li's, but he was more practical, incorporating things like morning exercises and evening guard duty into his routines: "Never falling behind in the five-kilometer cross-country run, and never missing a bullseye in shooting."

With each line sung, the soldiers in the audience shouted "Bravo!"

Even Commander Liu clapped and nodded, saying, "This young man has brought the company life to life!"

The last program was a grand chorus of "Ode to the Motherland" performed by all the actors and soldiers.

Liu Xiaoqing and Tao Yuling stood in the front row leading the singing, their voices loud and clear.

Chen Chong hid behind and hummed softly.

Tang Guoqiang stood among the soldiers, imitating them by standing tall and proud, and when he sang "Over the mountains, over the plains," his voice was particularly loud.

Xu Chengjun held his guitar and gently strummed the chords to accompany the music. The light from the gas lamp fell on everyone's faces, and the military green, blue cloth, and floral shirts mixed together like a lively painting.

By the time the choir finished singing, it was completely dark, and all the lanterns around the playground were lit.

Commander Liu stood up, straightened his uniform, and walked towards the stage.

Minister Zhang quickly followed behind, and the soldiers all stood up as well, and the parade ground fell silent instantly.

Commander Liu first shook hands with Tao Yuling and said with a smile, "Comrade Tao, it's been so many years since I've seen you play 'Second Sister'. You're still as energetic as ever!"

Tao Yuling held his hand and said repeatedly, "You flatter me, Commander. I'm happy to perform for the soldiers!"

Next up were Liu Xiaoqing and Chen Chong.

Liu Xiaoqing, still a bit energized from the stage, shook the leader's hand and said, "Sir, I'll come again next time there's a visit!"

Chen Chong was a little nervous and didn't dare to use her hands too hard. She said softly, "Hello, sir. I... I didn't act well. I still need to learn more."

Commander Liu patted her on the shoulder: "Young lady, it's good that you dare to perform in front of the soldiers!"

When it was Tang Guoqiang's turn, he became even more reserved. He held the commander's hands with both hands and said repeatedly, "Commander, I learned a lot from the soldiers today. I'll definitely be more convincing when I play soldiers in the future!"

Commander Liu nodded: "You need to talk to the soldiers more; to conduct military exercises, you need to understand soldiers!"

Finally, it was Xu Chengjun's turn.

Commander Liu held his hand firmly, his eyes smiling, and said, "Comrade Xu, you sang 'Green Flowers in the Army' so well! You sang out the soldiers' innermost thoughts."

Xu Chengjun replied with a smile, "The stories of the soldiers are all good; I just turned them into a song."

Wu Qiang, who was standing next to him, added, "Chengjun is a thoughtful kid who understands the soldiers' hardships. He wrote 'Red Silk' in the same way, and the soldiers all love to read it."

This older brother meant well.

"Green Flowers in the Army" could easily undermine morale within the military.

Let me add a couple of sentences.

Commander Liu nodded: "Great! The arts and literature community needs people like this who are down-to-earth and can sit on the same bench as the soldiers and talk to them."

After the performance, Chief Liu asked Minister Zhang to call Xu Chengjun to the temporary office next door.

There were only the two of them in the room. Commander Liu poured Xu Chengjun a cup of hot water and got straight to the point: "The song 'Green Flowers in the Army' is more relatable than I thought. The soldiers love to listen to it because it's so real. But right now, the new recruits have just entered the camp, and many of them haven't adapted to military life yet. If we sing it on a large scale, I'm afraid it will evoke too much homesickness and affect training."

Xu Chengjun nodded, already prepared: "The commander's consideration is thorough, I understand."

Commander Liu looked at him with a hint of approval in his eyes: "It's good that you understand. But this song can't be wasted. I'll keep an eye on the performing arts troupe and help you release a record when the time is right."

And your "Red Silk," I've read a few chapters; it's full of the soldiers' innermost thoughts. I'm really looking forward to your future works; please write more stories like this.

Xu Chengjun took the water cup: "Thank you, sir. I will definitely write it down carefully and record the stories of the soldiers so that more people can know about their sacrifices."

When I came out of the storage room, there were still many soldiers on the parade ground.

Many of the young soldiers were seeing people on television for the first time.

It also felt novel.

Some approached Liu Xiaoqing boldly, hesitantly asking, "May I shake your hand?"

Liu Xiaoqing didn't mince words, smiling as he shook hands and greeted the soldiers.

For a time, it was a harmonious and joyful occasion.

In comparison, Xu Chengjun was much more neglected, but he didn't care.

Tang Guoqiang walked over, patted him on the shoulder, and said a little embarrassedly, "Chengjun, you were really steady when you were talking to the leader today. I was so nervous that my hands were shaking. I still have to learn from you."

Xu Chengjun laughed: "If you use your skills in chatting idly, you can talk the commander until he's dizzy."

"That's not the same thing!"

Like "Green Flowers in the Army" and "Northern Countryside".

This song may not be widely sung for the time being, but it has already taken root in the hearts of the soldiers. Just like the story in "Red Silk," it will accompany them as they guard their homeland and wait for their return.

On the way back to the city, it was still that same old green train.

Fortunately, Chen Chong, Tao Yuling, and Ru Zhijuan accompanied him, making the journey a little easier.

When I arrived at Jinling Station, I heard an old man next to me holding a radio.

Local radio stations presented the event as a "recorded report": playing excerpts from the performance of "Green Flowers in the Army" and recordings of conversations between actors and soldiers. "This afternoon, the military region's cultural troupe visited the Second Company's parade ground. Xu Chengjun played and sang a song about homesickness on his guitar, bringing tears to the soldiers' eyes..."

Everyone was very curious.

What kind of song, played on a guitar, could move soldiers to tears?

"Chengjun, your singing is better than your songwriting!"

"It just so happens to be the right time."

"Still being rather modest~"

As the green train pulled out of Nanjing Station, the setting sun was painting the sky orange-red.

Xu Chengjun sat by the window, stroking the bullet casing ornament given to him by the old soldier. The rice fields outside the window rushed past, and occasionally he could see farmers carrying hoes home by the roadside.

Through wind and rain, farmers toil, and torches are lit to illuminate the sun.

Ru Zhijuan sat opposite him, flipping through the manuscript of "Music Box" that Xu Chengjun had just given her, occasionally drawing a small circle in the blank space, which was her habit when revising the manuscript.

Chen Chong and Tao Yuling were sitting diagonally behind, looking together at the photos the soldiers had given them.

There was a group photo, and also a little soldier secretly slipping Chen Chong his own illustration of "Little Flower".

Chen Chong pointed to the crooked "Zhao Xiaohua" in the painting and said to Tao Yuling with a smile, "Look at this painting, I'm even more energetic than the one in the movie!"

Tao Yuling nodded, her eyes full of gentleness: "These children are thoughtful and remember our kindness."

Xu Chengjun was also surprised.

Women are really something else; they're even fighting in the military camp.

Will that be enough?
Women in the entertainment industry are probably even rarer.

Just after the train passed Zhenjiang, Ru Zhijuan's eyes suddenly lit up, and she waved to the other side of the aisle: "Chairman Ai! What a coincidence, you're on this train too?"

Xu Chengjun followed her gaze and saw a middle-aged man in a gray Zhongshan suit walking over. His hair was neatly combed, he was carrying a black briefcase, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

It was Ai Xuan, chairman of the Jiangsu Provincial Writers Association, who was hailed as "the foremost literary figure in Jiangsu Province over the past 60 years."

Xu Chengjun had been cramming on contemporary works at Fudan University during this period, and happened to have seen his photo in People's Literature magazine. It was under his leadership that Zhongshan magazine became increasingly influential.

"Zhijuan, what a coincidence!"

Ai Xuan sat down in the empty seat next to Ru Zhijuan, and as soon as she put down her bag, she noticed Xu Chengjun. "And who is this?"

"This is Xu Chengjun, whom I mentioned to you. He is the author of 'Red Silk' and he came with us to visit the military region this time."

Ru Zhijuan introduced with a smile, then turned to Xu Chengjun, "Chengjun, this is Chairman Ai Xuan, the leader of our Jiangsu Writers Association. You should have a good chat with him."

Xu Chengjun quickly stood up and shook hands with Ai Xuan: "Hello Chairman Ai, I am Xu Chengjun. I have been reading your works for a long time."

Ai Xuan held his hand, her grip light yet steady, her eyes full of admiration: "No need to be so polite, I've heard about you before! 'The Barn' and 'The Fitting Mirror' each have their own charm, especially 'Red Silk,' which I read three times; it's so touching."

There aren't many young writers these days who can truly immerse themselves in writing about the joys and sorrows of ordinary people. You, on the other hand, are a rising star in our literary world, far more talented than I was in my youth!

These words made Xu Chengjun a little embarrassed. He scratched his head and said, "You flatter me. I'm far inferior to you."

"This is enough!"

Ai Xuan waved his hand, took out a magazine from his briefcase and placed it on the table. "Literature is about telling people's stories. You have already found your own path. A while ago, Zhicheng and I were saying that your writing style has become a unique style. All that's missing for further development is time."

Zhicheng refers to Ye Zhicheng.

He was the son of Ye Shengtao, a famous playwright and editor.

In 1979, he served as the editor-in-chief of Yuhua magazine and worked with Fang Zhi to prepare for the launch of Youth magazine.

Like Ai Xuan, he was one of the core figures in Nanjing's literary circles.

"You flatter me."

"This is not an overstatement. I've read all the works of writers of all ages, from the old to the young, and yours is the most unique. The avant-garde stance of 'The Fitting Mirror' and the narrative logic of 'Red Silk' are both very distinctive. Our literary scene today is lacking this kind of attitude!"

"Chairman Ai, please don't flatter Xiao Xu so much that he'll be too embarrassed to chat with you!"

"Excuse me?"

"The Fitting Mirror was the first place winner in the preliminary round of the national outstanding short story competition! My eyesight is failing, but surely others can't see it the same way as me?"

Xu Chengjun laughed too: "Perhaps the readers misread it~"

"With your excellent works coming out so frequently now, you're probably going to be winning awards left and right!"

"Awards aren't so easy to win."

Ai Xuan laughed heartily, then suddenly remembered something and quickly said, "By the way, have you had any new works recently? Zhongshan is in dire need of good manuscripts like yours."

Xu Chengjun nodded and said, "There is a novella called 'Music Box'."

"Is it also written in the same style as 'The Fitting Mirror'?"

"It's not quite like it, but it's definitely not quite the same as the current writing style in the literary world."

"Oh?"

Ru Zhijuan chimed in with a smile, "He already showed me this draft, and I even helped him revise a couple of minor details!"

Ai Xuan became even more interested upon hearing this and leaned forward: "Oh? That's great! Cheng Jun, I'll be frank with you today—I'm inviting you to contribute an article on behalf of Zhongshan magazine. Could you give our magazine a first publication for this piece, 'The Music Box'?"

Before Xu Chengjun could speak, Ru Zhijuan laughed first: "Chairman Ai, you're a step too late in inviting him to write this article—he's already submitted it."

Ai Xuan paused for a moment, then asked with a hint of regret, "Who did you submit it to? Was it Harvest or People's Literature?"

"It's in my hands!"

Ru Zhijuan pointed to herself, her eyes crinkling with laughter, "I'm an editor at 'Shanghai Literature.' How could I let such a good manuscript slip away? I already arranged with him to send it to us as soon as he finished revising it!"

Upon hearing this, Ai Xuan couldn't help but laugh: "You, Zhijuan, you've kept it well hidden! But it's not a loss either, with this article in 'Shanghai Literature,' the sales for the next issue will definitely be good."

Chengjun, next time you have a new work, be sure to think of "Zhongshan" first! I'm always waiting for your manuscript!

Xu Chengjun quickly nodded: "Definitely, definitely. I'll show it to you as soon as I finish writing it next time."

As the train approached Suzhou Station, Ai Xuan was about to get off.

Before leaving, he patted Xu Chengjun on the shoulder again and left his contact address: "Write well, pay more attention to the people and things at the grassroots level. Your writing has warmth and can write things that touch people's hearts. Come to my place in Nanjing again if you have the chance."

Xu Chengjun smiled and agreed.

He actually had a good impression of Ai Xuan. In that era, people who could devote themselves to the anti-Japanese national salvation movement deserved respect just for their identity.

Not to mention their fruitful achievements in the fields of literature and editing.

Xu Chengjun's impression of him is an interesting anecdote.

In 1996, he held a seminar on his prose works at his own expense. In the invitation, he clearly stated that there would be "no smoking, drinking, or banquets, no red envelopes or gifts" and that he would only serve boxed lunches to the participants, which became a well-known story in the literary world.

Watching Ai Xuan's figure disappear on the platform, Ru Zhijuan smiled and said to Xu Chengjun, "Now, even Chairman Ai is chasing after you for your manuscript!"

"Look at you, joking around again, aren't you? You can't just take people's words seriously, can you?"

"It's really good that you're not involved. How about you give your next article back to 'Shanghai Literature'?"

Xu Chengjun immediately shut up.

(End of this chapter)