My era, 1979!

Chapter 183 The enigmatic Chinese noble prince’s literary envoy appears!

The brand-new Terminal 1 of Beijing Capital International Airport, under the winter sun, resembles a huge, futuristic white palace, standing in stark contrast to the still empty fields around it.

For Xu Chengjun, stepping into this building, which was then the most modern in China, brought a strange sense of temporal and spatial displacement.

Staff led the delegation through the ordinary waiting area to a wooden door with an inconspicuous sign but which was manned.

Behind the door is the VIP waiting room.

Stepping through the door felt like entering another world. The thick wool carpet swallowed the sound of footsteps, isolating the last trace of outside noise. The interior was warm and cozy, contrasting sharply with the chill of the outer hall.

A heavy sofa upholstered in brown leather sits steadily around the coffee table, while a magnificent oil painting of the Great Wall hangs on the wall.

On the coffee table were blue and white porcelain ashtrays and several white porcelain teacups. The waiter was quietly pouring hot tea for the elderly gentlemen, including Ba Jin and Bing Xin, who had just sat down.

"This new airport is impressive, but it lacks a bit of human touch," Ms. Bingxin said with a gentle smile, holding a cup of hot tea.

Ba Jin nodded: "We always have to move forward. As we go out, the world comes in."

Xu Chengjun chose a seat on the side and did not join the old people's conversation.

About half an hour later, a staff member dressed in a crisp CAAC uniform walked in quietly and whispered a few words in Secretary-General Lin Lin's ear.

Linlin immediately stood up, her voice not loud but clear enough: "Dear teachers, Comrade Chengjun, we may board the plane now."

There were no announcements, no urging. The delegation members calmly rose and, guided by staff, walked directly out of a side door of the VIP lounge onto the exclusive passageway leading to the tarmac.

The chill of early winter swept over him instantly, a stark contrast to the warmth of the waiting room. Xu Chengjun instinctively tightened his coat and followed the group, step by step, toward the passenger plane.

The gangway was already in place. With the help of staff, Ba Jin and Bing Xin were the first to slowly board the plane.

As Xu Chengjun followed at the end of the line and stepped onto the gangway, he couldn't help but glance back at the magnificent yet empty airport. At that moment, he felt with unmistakable clarity that he was standing at a historical juncture, about to fly from a "present" interwoven with the old and the new to a "future" full of unknowns.

Xu Chengjun and his delegation were not traveling on the Boeing 707, which had already begun to be introduced at the time, but on the more common CAAC Ilyushin Il-18 four-engine turboprop airliner.

Throughout the 70s, the Il-18 was the mainstay of China's civil aviation in carrying out international routes and domestic trunk line missions.

Although it did not represent the cutting edge of the jet age like the Boeing 707, it had a long range and high reliability, and served as the "airborne camel bell" connecting China to the world during that period.

Choosing this airline, rather than a potentially more comfortable foreign one, reflects a strong sense of national will and dignity.

The atmosphere inside the cabin was solemn and dignified.

Ba Jin, the group leader, and Bing Xin, the deputy group leader, were assigned to first class.

Other senior writers, such as Gong Mu, Ai Wu, and Du Pengcheng, sat in business class.

Xu Chengjun, along with most of the delegation's staff and translators, was in economy class.

In this era, civil aviation flights were a highly ceremonial event. Passengers were formally dressed, and many of the veteran writers were perhaps stepping out of the country for the first time in their lives, their expressions carrying a subtle mix of nervousness and curiosity.

The service standards of Chinese civil aviation flight attendants are somewhat rigid.

There's a reason for that.

In 1980, China's civil aviation was still in an era of "air force jurisdiction and blurring of lines between government and enterprise".

Under militarized management, civil aviation was subordinate to the Air Force, and most pilots were demobilized Air Force personnel. Flight attendants, who were then called waiters, were selected according to standards similar to those for soldiers, emphasizing political reliability and physical strength.

Therefore, the service style is inevitably serious, formal, and even somewhat rigid.

However, the food and drinks provided were already at the highest standard that could be achieved at the time.

How tall is it? The drinks inside include Moutai!
Xu Chengjun sat quietly in his seat.

The economy class was far from comfortable, and the engine roar was even clearer, but this did not affect his thoughts.

Seniority is an omnipresent rule in this era.

Xu Chengjun had just fastened his seatbelt and was preparing to close his eyes and rest during the journey to process the impact of traveling with literary giants when a delicate yet slightly aggressive fragrance wafted over him.

A figure sat down in the empty seat next to him.

Xu Chengjun subconsciously looked up, and his gaze immediately froze.

Sitting next to him was an extremely striking young woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a well-fitting khaki trench coat that accentuated her slender figure, especially her enviable curves, which even the slightly loose clothing could not completely conceal.

Her beauty is completely different from Su Manshu's Jiangnan charm and classical elegance. It is a striking, exotic beauty with deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, full lips, and skin that is so white it is almost transparent. She looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine, and is very similar to Gulnazar in later generations.

As soon as the girl sat down, her bright, sparkling eyes stared directly at Xu Chengjun with obvious curiosity and excitement.

"Comrade Xu Chengjun! Hello, hello!" Her voice was clear and crisp, with a touch of the straightforwardness of a Beijing girl. She extended her hand proactively. "My name is Song Liangxi. I just graduated from the Journalism Department of Peking University and I'm currently a reporter accompanying the Wenyi Bao newspaper! My goodness, I've finally met you in person!"

Xu Chengjun was taken aback by her rapid-fire opening remarks and subconsciously reached out to shake her hand gently: "Hello, Reporter Song."

Fresh out of college, they joined the "Literary Gazette" and could get into Peking University through worker-peasant-soldier recommendations. Even raw recruits could go to Japan with them.

And the bold personality of this era.

It all seems to indicate that...
This reporter, Song, has an unusual background.

As soon as he let go, Song Liangxi started talking non-stop, turning slightly towards him, her eyes sparkling with a star-struck light:

"Comrade Chengjun, I'm a true fan of yours! I've read 'Red Silk' three times and cried through several handkerchiefs! 'The Box of Hope' is absolutely amazing; several of the senior editors in our newspaper are passing it around and arguing about it endlessly!"

Xu Chengjun smiled somewhat helplessly: "Thank you, you flatter me."

"By the way, do you know anything about Japan? I've heard they have many different literary movements there. Who would you like to exchange ideas with?"

She bombarded her with questions, giving her no chance to breathe.

Before Xu Chengjun could even organize her thoughts, she lowered her voice, leaned closer, and asked with an inquiring expression, "There's another question I've been wanting to ask for a long time! When I was writing 'Red Silk,' the details about the army were so realistic, everyone was saying... did you really secretly go to the southern front and fire a gun? Is that true?"

She stood quite close, her hair almost brushing against Xu Chengjun's arm, her overly bright eyes filled with the message, "Tell me the exclusive inside story."

Xu Chengjun felt both annoyed and amused as he watched her act like a paparazzi digging for juicy gossip.

This journey doesn't look like it will be peaceful at all.

He leaned back slightly in his chair and said in a tone that was half-joking and half-serious:

"Reporter Song, the intensity of your interviews is even greater than what the Japanese media estimated. Regarding the issues at the front..."

He paused deliberately, and seeing Song Yuange's eyes widen even more, he slowly said, "Literary creation originates from life, but transcends life. Guess?"

Song Liangxi pouted at his "Tai Chi" move, but her interest only grew stronger.

"Hmph, still keeping me in suspense! But you're much more handsome in person than in the magazine photos, and so talented too, no wonder..."

She stopped mid-sentence, a barely perceptible blush rising on her face. She then pulled a notebook and pen from her bag. "No way, I have to have a good chat with you along the way. This is an exclusive opportunity!" Xu Chengjun looked at her energetic and determined spirit and rubbed his temples helplessly.

Well, well, although it's a bit noisy, at least... it's quite pleasing to the eye.

This tedious long-haul flight doesn't seem to be boring at all.

"Comrade Chengjun, calling you Comrade Chengjun is too formal! I'll call you Chengjun, you can call me Liangxi, okay?"

"Oh right, Chengjun, is this your first time in Tokyo?"

Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?

"Have."

"Ah?"

After taking off from Beijing and stopping in Shanghai, the Ilyushin Il-18 passenger plane, operated by China Civil Aviation, finally began to descend after several long hours in the air. Through the window, the azure waters of Tokyo Bay and the dense cityscape could be seen.

As the plane's tires screeched against the runway at Tokyo Haneda International Airport, a brand new journey officially began.

The group followed the flow of people toward the arrival hall. As soon as they passed through the gate, the scene before them gave Xu Chengjun a slight jolt.

The flashes of light came on like a sudden storm, instantly illuminating the entire area as if it were daytime.

Reporters from major Japanese media outlets, who had been waiting for a long time, swarmed around like bees drawn to a fragrant flower.

NHK and other major television reporters, carrying cameras, rushed to the front, while print reporters from major newspapers such as Asahi Shimbun, Yomiuri Shimbun, and Mainichi Shimbun held up their recording equipment.

Mr. Tomoe! Welcome back to Japan!

"Ms. Bingxin, what are your expectations for this Japan-China literary exchange?"

Reporters rushed to ask questions in Japanese, and the accompanying translator nervously and quickly relayed them in a low voice.

Faced with the media's enthusiasm, delegation leader Ba Jin displayed the demeanor of a seasoned cultural ambassador. His face was lean, bearing a gentle, slightly weary smile, but his eyes remained calm. For most specific questions, he did not answer directly, but rather had Secretary-General Lin Lin or his entourage subtly deflect the questions by saying, "Mr. Ba Jin has had a long journey; we will discuss these issues in detail at the formal symposium." This was not indifference, but a high degree of caution. In an era when the country had just reopened its doors, every word and action could be over-interpreted. As the delegation leader, he had to ensure that the entire delegation's voice was unified, steady, and measured; any impromptu or personal remarks could cause unnecessary ripples.

Only when asked about his macro-level outlook on Sino-Japanese literary exchanges did Ba Jin respond slowly and clearly in his Sichuan-accented Mandarin, revolving around core keywords such as "friendship," "learning," and "peace," with precise wording befitting his identity and the context at the time.

"The literary traditions of China and Japan have a long history. Our purpose in coming here is to learn and exchange ideas, and we hope that this trip will further deepen the mutual understanding and friendship between the cultural circles of the two countries."

Ms. Bingxin maintained a graceful and kind smile throughout, responding to questions with nods or very brief words, leaving more space for Bajin, the head of the group.

Her very existence is a gentle yet unwavering force.

However, the media has an extremely keen sense of smell.

After completing their routine "siege" of several literary giants, many veteran cultural journalists, like searchlights, unanimously focused their attention on the youngest and most unfamiliar face in the delegation—Xu Chengjun.

He was tall and handsome, dressed in a well-fitting dark suit. Among the somewhat serious and even elderly delegation, he stood out like a fine horse in a flock of sheep.

The reporters exchanged puzzled glances and began to whisper among themselves.

"Who is that young man? Is he also a writer? He looks like he's an attendant of some important person..."

"No, look at his demeanor and that suit... Could he be some 'young nobleman' from China? Is he here to gain prestige? Japan is also part of the Confucian cultural sphere, we understand this kind of thing."

It's no wonder the Japanese think this way.

Japan is a place synonymous with aristocratic politics.

Even their own people were complaining about it.

In one episode of Detective Conan, Conan complains: "The son of a politician will become a politician, and the son of a bank president will become a bank president. If this continues, no matter how long it takes, Japan will not change."

One reporter, gazing at Xu Chengjun's cool profile and upright posture, couldn't help but exclaim in a slightly exaggerated tone, "That face...it's just like Hoshino Yuuma from 'Star of the Giants'! And he looks so good in a suit!"
Amidst the speculation, the cultural affairs reporter from the Asahi Shimbun, which has close ties with Iwanami Shoten, clearly did his homework in advance.

He squeezed to Xu Chengjun's side and asked directly in accented but clear Chinese:

"Mr. Xu Chengjun! Is your visit with this delegation to formally sign a publishing contract for your work 'The Unbreakable Red Silk' with Iwanami Shoten?"

This question was very precise, but also contained a trap, attempting to solidify the impression that he was heavily influenced by connections and had "commercial motives."

Instantly, more microphones and cameras were pointed at Xu Chengjun, awaiting his response.

Xu Chengjun remained completely calm despite the sudden attention he was in.

He simply stopped, calmly waved to the Asahi Shimbun reporters and the curious gazes around him, neither admitting nor denying, and then said in clear Chinese: "I'm sorry, I'm just an ordinary member of the delegation. My main purpose for this trip is to learn from the senior teachers."

After saying that, he said no more, nodded slightly, and quickly followed the group of Ba Jin, Lin Lin and others, leaving the reporters and many more unasked questions behind.

He had a very clear understanding of his role on this trip: listen more, observe more, and speak less.

His main purpose was indeed to contact Iwanami Shoten and earn foreign exchange.
In such a public setting, especially when one is still relatively inexperienced, it would be unwise to utter any unnecessary words.

The limelight.

I will wait until I truly become a top-tier writer who speaks for themselves and is undisputed, before publishing, not now.

However, his low-key and calm response, coupled with his outstanding appearance, produced an unexpected effect.

His departure, with his aloof, distant, and even somewhat "cool" attitude, only fueled the fervor of many reporters present, especially the female reporters.

"えっ? Ignore the されたの? でも...カッコよすぎる!" (Eh? Ignored? But... so handsome!)
"The attitude...クールでたまらない!" (That attitude...is unbearably cool!)
"しかも"Asahi Shimbun"が语ってたように, overseas published writer できるなんだって! Talented とルックスを and ね备えた, まさにThe ideal opposite sex!” (And as the Asahi Shimbun said, he is also a writer who can publish books overseas! With both talent and beauty, he is simply the ideal opposite sex!)

Amidst the chaos, a photographer from Weekly Shincho successfully captured the moment when Xu Chengjun slightly turned his head and calmly waved his hand as he faced questions.

That sharply defined profile appears exceptionally cool and captivating on the black and white film.

The next day, the magazine published the photograph in a large section, accompanied by an exaggerated headline that was full of the hallmarks of Japanese popular culture at the time:
"Mysterious Chinese noble son, Literary Envoy 団にappears! その Cold Che's beauty and talent は, 『ベルサイユのばら』のオスカルを若させる!" (The mysterious Chinese nobleman appears in the literary envoy! His cold beauty and talent are reminiscent of the Oscar in "The Rose of Versailles"!)

As soon as this report was published, thanks to his unique "handsome manga character" image and mysterious author aura, Xu Chengjun unexpectedly sparked a small craze in Japan, especially among young women, even before his works were widely released.

So handsome!
Thai pants are hot!
Many female readers even started asking where they could buy the magazine featuring this "Chinese Oscar".

Let's set aside this unexpected "idolization" for now.

After breaking through the media siege, the delegation quickly boarded a special vehicle prepared by the Japanese side and left Haneda Airport.

The convoy drove towards the heart of Tokyo and eventually arrived at the Hotel New Otani in Akasaka.

This upscale hotel, built around the time of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, is renowned for its combination of classic Japanese gardens and modern amenities, and was one of the most important venues for receiving foreign dignitaries at the time.

Standing by the window in the room, you can see the lush hotel courtyard and the distant silhouette of Tokyo.

Japan trip~
(End of this chapter)