Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 200 Never Forget the People
At No. 13 Houyuanensi Hutong, Liu Yimin knocked on the door, and Wei Tao opened it.

"Yimin? Where did you go yesterday? We went to visit you, but we knocked on the door for ages and couldn't find you!" Wei Tao said with a laugh.

"I just went to Beidaihe, and here are some apples that the local comrades asked me to bring to Mr. Shen."

Liu Yimin held up the apple in his hand and showed it to Wei Tao.

"This aroma is so familiar. Old Zhao is a master at growing apples. Come on in."

Inside the main room, Mao Dun held an apple, smelled its aroma, and said regretfully, "What a pity, such a good apple, it's too old. All good things are a waste."

"Let's put this apple aside; it's mealy," Wei Tao said.

Mao Dun nodded nostalgically and led Liu Yimin into his study. Mr. Mao Dun's study was in the backyard, and it was larger than Cao Yu's, as it was a courtyard house.

The interior was simply furnished. The study was connected to the bedroom, and a large desk was placed next to the iron bars on the window. Books, documents, and pens were neatly arranged on the desk.

The pen holder is on the right, with fountain pens in order, followed by pencils and red pencils for revising drafts. The paperclips and safety pins are arranged differently, which, in modern terms, is like having obsessive-compulsive disorder.

On the left wall hangs a portrait of a kind old woman, with the words "Respectfully presented by Yanbing, my mother" written below.

"Sit down!" Mao Dun said.

"Your study is so tidy? I'm ashamed!" Liu Yimin said, blushing. He wondered what Mao Dun felt when he visited his study.

"Haha, don't worry about it. It's just a personal habit. I like to put everything where it belongs. Look, this is the preface I wrote. Old Xia's is finished, right?" Mao Dun gently wiped the table with his hand and handed the draft next to him to Liu Yimin.

The nanny came in with two teacups. She placed one cup next to Liu Yimin and then placed the other cup next to the desk, reminding Mao Dun that it was time to take his medicine.

Mao Dun turned around and took out the medicine from the drawer—several white bottles, indicating he needed to take quite a bit to improve his health. After taking the medicine, Mao Dun shook his head helplessly, as if lamenting his advancing age.

Mao Dun's preface was written in very clear handwriting, as if he was afraid of not being able to read it. He also talked about his first meeting with Liu Yimin, but focused on "The Kite Runner" and the play "Mountains High and Rivers Long" written from it.

"I sat in the study with Yimin and his teacher, my good friend Cao Yu, watching 'The Wind Chaser.' After we finished watching it, we all agreed that the story was novel and exciting, and that there was even more to explore when we delved into the background. I mentioned an old story from the Opium War era, and Cao Yu thought it could be adapted into a play. In addition, it was the 30th anniversary of the peaceful liberation of Tibet that we were about to celebrate, so the three of us excitedly discussed it in the study."

A little over a month later, Comrade Yimin returned from Sichuan Province, looking thinner than usual, bringing back dried yak meat and two excellent plays. "I hope I can still give them a proper performance."

"Mr. Shen, you wrote so well! I'm sure you'll see this!"

Liu Yimin felt uneasy. If the performance were to take place on the anniversary, he knew he wouldn't be able to see it.

"Haha, when I see Marx, I will definitely tell him what we have done."

"The calligraphy on your desk is quite distinctive," Liu Yimin said.

"How is it? Isn't it very fitting for the occasion?"

It's a poem, the old man's "Seven-Character Quatrain: Visiting Shaoshan"

[A hazy dream, a curse upon the passing river, my old home thirty-two years ago.]

Red flags unfurl, serfs' spears are raised; black hands hang high, tyrant's whip is held.

For the sake of sacrifice, dare to teach the sun and the moon to change the sky.

I rejoice to see the rice paddies undulating like waves, and heroes everywhere bathed in the evening glow.

Liu Yimin thanked him excitedly, and looked at the words carefully, saying, "His poems are always so grand and magnificent!"

"Yes, this is the lofty aspiration of a great revolutionary. When the bald man failed, he could only lament like a woman, writing 'Sword in hand, tears streaming down my face,' while the instructor could write 'The road ahead is long and arduous, but we will start anew!'"

After admiring the poems for a while, Mao Dun said, "Let me add a few more words for you."

Never forget the people.

Liu Yimin nodded earnestly and said, "I've got it!"

"Good, good, good!" Mao Dun laughed a few times, put down his pen, and his face became much rosier.

He pulled a letter from the drawer and handed it to Liu Yimin: "Take a look at this."

When Liu Yimin opened the letter, it was a reply from the Writers' Association agreeing to accept Mao Dun's donation and to establish the "Mao Dun Literature Prize." The signature at the bottom was "Zhang Guangnian."

It also mentions that the award was officially established on October 1st, and the judging process began, with the scope of the award being works created after 1977.

"My long-cherished wish has finally come true. Thank you. On the day of the establishment ceremony, the Writers' Association was planning to hold one. I didn't want them to do it, but the comrades in the Writers' Association thought it was a formal announcement to everyone. You must attend the ceremony." Mao Dun said.

"I'll definitely be there!"

After saying goodbye, Liu Yimin left Mao Dun's house with a calligraphy scroll and a preface in his pocket. Mao Dun's calligraphy is known in literary circles for its neatness and practicality, without any deliberate display of skill.

Unlike many calligraphers who are "secret and mysterious," he doesn't need to hold a pen that's taller than himself, drink a couple of ounces of liquor, jump and dance on the ground, and after he finishes, enthusiastic applause erupts from the sidelines.

After clapping, he said in a cheesy tone, "Master XX, your calligraphy..."

The garlic smell in his mouth had been there all night, and the master didn't seem to mind the pungent odor.

His calligraphy has its own characteristics, and you can basically understand what he wrote just by reading it.

Liu Yimin handed the two prefaces to Huang Chunyu at the Commercial Press. Huang Chunyu looked at Mao Dun's handwriting and said, "Mr. Mao Dun, our predecessor at the Commercial Press!"

"Ok?"

"You don't know, do you? He used to work at the Shanghai Commercial Press, where he was both an editor and engaged in revolutionary work. His handwriting is very neat, right? There's a reason for that. He made a fool of himself in the past because of his sloppy handwriting, so he calmed down, learned from his mistakes, and practiced writing beautiful characters."

Huang Chunyu recounted Mao Dun's past experiences with great familiarity.

After Liu Yimin offered a few words of praise, Huang Chunyu said, "We really need to learn a lot about the glorious history of our Commercial Press."

Upon hearing that Liu Yimin had arrived, the editor-in-chief of the Commercial Press came over to meet him. Looking at the two important prefaces, he said happily, "Now the sales are even more guaranteed. With these two gentlemen here, Comrade Yimin, you really have a lot of face."

Liu Yimin said modestly, "It's not that I'm being presumptuous, it's that you two have been taking good care of me!"

"Same here. I hope we can cooperate more in the future. The books printed by our Commercial Press are definitely of high quality!"

Huang Chunyu shifted his body, looked at Liu Yimin, and then said to the editor-in-chief, "Director, I have an idea, but I don't know if I should say it?"

"Go ahead and speak!" The editor-in-chief was in high spirits.

"We can take photos of these two prefaces and print them at the front of the book. This will not only improve the book's printing quality but also boost sales. People will buy it just because of the photos of the manuscripts!"

Liu Yimin's eyes lit up. He had to admit, Huang Chunyu was quite clever. The editor-in-chief led them into his office and began to think about it carefully. They had never done anything like this before; at most, they had only printed hand-drawn pictures.

"Comrade Yimin, what do you think?"

Liu Yimin took a sip of tea and said, "I agree with doing this. Currently, all the single-volume editions we print have the same paper quality and cover color. If we could add two pictures, it would definitely improve the aesthetics. Comrade Chunyu said that the books printed by our Commercial Press are more exquisite than those published by the People's Publishing House."

The editor-in-chief called the printing plant to inquire how much the cost would increase. After making the arrangements, he hung up and said, "Comrade Liu Yimin, let's discuss this internally. The price of the book has already been set. If the cost increases, the price will have to be raised."

Mentioning it can earn you a lot more money.

Liu Yimin understood perfectly: an increase of one cent in cost would mean at least two cents more in selling price.

On the 10th, the last day for senior students to register at Yenching University, Liu Yimin rode his bicycle to school, and Zhu Lin offered to give him a ride. So the two of them rode their bicycles to Yenching University together.

A banner reading "Welcome New Students" was hung on the main gate of Yenching University, and the loudspeaker broadcasted the admission instructions for new students. After the broadcast, music started playing.

The entire campus was filled with a joyous atmosphere due to the arrival of the new students.

Zhang Manling was eating ice cream by the roadside when she saw Liu Yimin and waved to him: "Liu Yimin, why have you gotten so tanned?"

Liu Yimin squeezed the brake and said with a smile, "I'm just learning from you!"

Zhang Manling said helplessly, "The ultraviolet radiation is strong where I'm from." She took another bite of her popsicle and looked at Zhu Lin, "Hey classmate, we meet again? What's your name?"

"Zhu Lin!"

"Oh!" Zhang Manling suddenly ran over, looking her up and down. "Wow! No wonder she looked familiar when we were watching the movie, isn't that Zhou Yun?! Oh my god, oh my gosh!"

Zhang Manling shook Zhu Lin's hand violently, saying nothing, just groaning and moaning.

Liu Yimin laughed and said, "Zhang Manling, aren't you usually quite talkative?"

"Oops!"

"."

Liu Yimin and Zhu Lin rode their bicycles toward the boys' dormitory. Zhang Manling paused for a moment, threw away her ice cream, and followed them on her bicycle.

"Oh dear, Liu Yimin, tsk tsk, I wonder what methods he used!" Zhang Manling kept thinking.

The three of them arrived at the dormitory together. Inside, there were three other people, excitedly sharing their summer experiences. Liu Zhenyun, in particular, was very enthusiastic, spitting all over Chen Dazhi's face.

Liu Yimin pushed the door open and entered. The three of them were stunned for a moment, then stood up laughing to welcome Liu Yimin, and saw Zhu Lin following behind him.

The three people exclaimed, "Oh dear, oh dear, this... oh dear!" Then, blushing, they hurriedly tidied up the dormitory, and Liu Zhenyun opened the window to ventilate the room.

Zhang Manling covered her nose and said, "You guys, Liu Yimin isn't here, you can't be so unhygienic! I think you've done a terrible job of implementing the national patriotic health campaign!"

After Zhu Lin greeted them, she went upstairs to make Liu Yimin's bed, while the three people next to her were scolded by Zhang Manling, who was the senior sister of the Chinese Department of Class of '78.

The three nodded quickly, but their eyes kept glancing at the busy figure on the upper bunk.

With a snap, Liu Zhenyun broke off the part of the bed board that Chen Dazhi had repaired.

With a snap, Chen Dazhi's hand dug into the bed frame.

Li Xueqin stared blankly at the upper bunk, his heart filled with despair.

After making the bed, Zhu Lin came downstairs and said, "Hello, Liu Zhenyun, Li Xueqin, Chen Dazhi, and Zhang Manling, come on, I'll treat you to dinner!"

"Comrade Zhou Jun, oh dear, do you know what our names are?"

"Teacher Liu often mentions you. We've met before, several times!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" Li Xueqin jumped up in a panic, bumping his head on the bed frame. He glanced awkwardly at Liu Zhenyun and said, "Why didn't you remind me that we were on the lower bunk!"

Liu Zhenyun: Really? We're on the lower bunk?

Several people followed behind Liu Yimin and Zhu Lin. Zhu Lin turned around with a smile and said, "We've met several times before!"

"Yes, we've met several times! But this is the first time I've come to the dormitory!" Liu Zhenyun said honestly.

Li Xueqin glanced at the disappointing Liu Zhenyun and asked him about making the movie.

During the meal, Zhu Lin smiled and thanked them for relaying messages to Liu Yimin on behalf of his roommates at the poetry gathering.

“It’s nothing. We’ve delivered messages for him so many times that many people have come to Yimin,” Li Xueqin said.

During this meal, Liu Zhenyun, who usually ate the most heartily, became extremely elegant. He would wipe his mouth with a handkerchief after every few bites.

After finishing their meal, the group watched Liu Yimin and Zhu Lin's retreating figures. Zhang Manling glanced at herself, sighed, and left first.

Li Xueqin, Liu Zhenyun, and Chen Dazhi followed at a distance.

"Writing is good, you have to learn how to write!" Chen Dazhi said in a muffled voice.

Li Xueqin nodded in agreement: "There really is a beautiful woman in the book. I think we should go back and continue writing."

"Yes, yes, I need to learn writing properly! By the way, is 'Romance on Lushan Mountain' a good movie?" Liu Zhenyun asked. His family was poor, and he hadn't been to the cinema during the summer vacation.

Li Xueqin chuckled: "I heard they're going to show a movie in the cafeteria in a few days. The Chinese department suggested this one. You'll see when you go."

Back in the dorm, the three of them looked at the manuscript for a while, scratching their heads and unable to concentrate. Li Xueqin slammed the manuscript shut: "Tell me, how the hell is Yimin so amazing?"

Chen Dazhi spoke slowly, "Which area are you referring to? Comrade Zhu Lin or writing?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yeah, is there a difference? They're both pretty amazing!"

"Pretty impressive? I think it's very impressive!"

When Liu Yimin returned, the three of them looked at him resentfully, but none of them spoke first.

Just as Liu Yimin was enjoying success in both his career and personal life, another heated discussion erupted in the poetry world. The magazine "Today" was officially ordered to cease publication, and officials came to their door to inform them that they must stop publishing and distributing.

Bei Dao and his team were working hard to ensure compliant publication, even publishing a letter to comrades from all walks of life. They renamed the magazine "Internal Study Materials," but after persisting for three issues, the editorial department eventually disbanded.

(End of this chapter)