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

Chapter 238 Be a little more arrogant, a little more haughty

As the group walked out of the Great Hall, Li Xiaolin wanted to say a few words to Liu Yimin, but Wan Fang pulled her back. Wan Fang then glanced at the editors who were trying to approach Liu Yimin, and only after they dispersed with awkward smiles did Wan Fang say, "Don't bother my junior brother and Xiaolin. You still need to commission articles? When did Yimin forget about you?"

Zhu Lin kept a hand's width of distance from Liu Yimin and kept telling Liu Yimin what had happened in the venue.

"Teacher Liu, you spoke so well just now! I love listening to you speak, you're so inspiring!" Zhu Lin's eyes practically sparkled with joy.

Liu Yimin chuckled: "You ate some honey earlier, didn't you?"

"No way! It is. You know what? The first time you gave a speech at the Yenching University Poetry Festival, my roommate and I were standing on tiptoe outside the door to listen to you. My legs were almost cramping. I was so anxious that I wanted to squeeze in with each foot. In the end, a kind classmate made way for us so we could see what you looked like."

At the time, we thought they meant well, but later we realized they were just impatient and mocking us—we hadn't even realized it. Chu Hong later said, "Even if we had realized it, we would have had to swallow our pride and go in."

Zhu Lin chuckled as she spoke.

Perhaps noticing that people were watching him, and realizing his laughter was a bit too loud, he lowered his voice and said, "Your speech that time was also particularly good, very engaging!"

"Tell me first, what do I look like to you?"

"Hehehe, that's what I'm thinking!"

Looking at Zhu Lin, Liu Yimin calmed himself down. Zhu Lin's words were too sweet today.

"What are you thinking inside?" Cui Daoyi asked in a low voice.

"Oh!" Cui Daoyi's voice startled them. Seeing their embarrassed expressions, Cui Daoyi chuckled and said:
“We’re family. I’m the one who brought you two together. If it weren’t for me, let me tell you, if you two get married, I, Cui Daoyi, will be the one to drink the first cup of wine. No one, not even Lao Wan!”

Zhu Lin blushed and remained silent. Liu Yimin put his arm around Cui Daoyi's shoulder and laughed, "Senior brother, you're my brother, but could you stay away from us for a bit now?"

"Fine, fine, I'll leave after three articles!" Cui Daoyi threatened.

"One article!"

Two articles!

Not a single one!

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" Cui Daoyi cheerfully chased after the crowd ahead.

Zhu Lin glanced at the magnificent building behind him and said to Liu Yimin, "Teacher Liu, now it's great! We don't have to stand on tiptoe to listen to your lecture anymore!"

"You only did it that one time!"

"What? Teacher Liu, do you want me to tiptoe a few times?" Zhu Lin chuckled.

After catching up with the crowd, the two stopped talking. Zhu Lin rode his bicycle towards a nearby photo studio to get all the photos developed.

Li Xiaolin and Wan Fang were going to visit Mao Dun, and Liu Yimin, Yao Xueyin, and Wei Wei also went with them.

Everyone came to the ward. Mao Dun looked better than a few days ago, with a rosy complexion. He invited everyone to sit down.

Wei Tao stood to the side, offering fruit to everyone, while the awards ceremony from earlier was still playing on the loudspeaker.

Mao Dun pointed at Liu Yimin and said, "He is the youngest of the five. Comrade Zhou Yang is right."

"Uncle Shen, please take good care of yourself. My father still wants to play chess with you!"

“I could beat your father, that terrible chess player, even lying in bed!” Mao Dun said, then coughed violently a few times.

The nurse next to him quickly stepped forward, but Mao Dun waved his hand and took out a manuscript from the drawer, handing it to Liu Yimin: "This is the preface I wrote. Wei Tao's handwriting is a bit hard to read, but you'll have to make do with it!"

Wei Tao smiled at Liu Yimin from the side without saying anything.

"Yimin, do you still remember the four characters I wrote for you back then? What did they say? Do you remember?"

"Never forget the people!"

What did you say at the time?

"The student has remembered!"

Mao Dun looked at Wan Fang and smiled, "Go back and tell your father."

"Uncle Shen, I'll remember that. My father will come to visit you another day. He's been very busy with rehearsals at the Beijing People's Art Theatre lately!"

"He's busy with his own things, no need to look!"

Mao Dun told Wei Wei and Yao Xueyin to take care of their health, as they were both getting on in years.

After a while, Zhou Keqin and Mo Yingfeng arrived with fruit baskets. The doctor approached Wei Tao, hoping to reduce the visiting hours.

Wei Tao whispered something to Liu Yimin, who then acted as a "shill": "Teacher Shen, it's getting late, you should get some rest. We'll head back now."

"Take care on your journey!" Mao Dun's voice was also tired.

Seeing Liu Yimin say this, everyone felt embarrassed to stay any longer, waved their hands, and left the ward.

As they left the hospital and were about to part ways near the Beijing People's Art Theatre, Liu Yimin handed over a copy of "The Paris Review" to Yao Xueyin, asking him to give it to Xu Chi when he returned to Hubei Province.

Yao Xueyin flipped through a few pages and said, "Old Xu's foreign writing skills are really good. I'll have to ask him to help translate it when I get back, so I can take a good look at what you've written."

He then pulled Liu Yimin aside and said in a senior's tone, "Yimin, what's good about you? You're just too modest. I'm a straightforward person; I'll show you what I have to say. I dare to shout out loud, 'I write well!'"

One should maintain pride while remaining reasonable, and be humble in return. Avoid being pretentious, overly sentimental, or cowardly. Of course, you've done a good job of being cowardly, but when you meet some important people, some people become like waiters; I have no respect for those kinds of people.

You did a great job in the poetry debate that sparked in Yenching and even across the country last time!

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

"Great, see you again sometime. You can look me up when you're in Hubei Province!"

Yao Xueyin smiled and waved his hand, heading towards his residence in Yanjing. He would occasionally take out the Paris Review to study it. He didn't understand English very well, just like when the Japanese version of Li Zicheng came out, he didn't understand Japanese, but that didn't stop him from being happy.

Wan Fang, Li Xiaolin, and Liu Yimin walked into the Beijing People's Art Theatre. Cao Yu hummed "Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy" in his office: "Today we drink to celebrate our victory, our ambitions remain unfulfilled, we will not rest until the future is long, and we will gladly shed our blood to write our own history."

"Uncle Wan, why are you so happy?" Li Xiaolin covered her mouth and laughed.

When Cao Yu saw Li Xiaolin, he stopped, took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his temples, and said, "Xiaolin, come and sit down. Sing a few lines in the office to loosen up your back."

"Uncle Wan, your health is much better than my father's."

"That won't work either, but I need to move around a bit. I can't just sit here anymore!" Cao Yu took the certificate and commemorative plaque from Liu Yimin's hand, saying with obvious delight, "What you said on the radio was good, but you didn't have to mention me!"

Seeing Cao Yu's happy expression, Li Xiaolin pursed her lips.

That evening, Cao Yu took Liu Yimin and Li Xiaolin to his house for dinner. When they saw Zhu Lin, Cao Yu said, "Xiao Lin, let's go together!"

Li Xiaolin kept asking Zhu Lin all sorts of questions, managing to extract a lot of useful "information" from him.

Liu Yimin looked at Li Xiaolin: "Senior sister, you seem like someone who works in intelligence."

“Looking for manuscripts is essentially looking for intelligence. You never know when you might get some information from the sidelines. It’s also very important for writers to introduce each other. I’ve heard that you’ve introduced quite a few good works to ‘Yanjing Literature’.”

Li Xiaolin sized up Liu Yimin, making him feel uneasy.

"Senior sister, you're wronging me. What's missing? It's just Comrade Wang Zengqi's article. Besides, it's just a favor. We both work under the Yanjing Cultural Bureau, so it's only a matter of time before they connect with us."

It's not surprising that Li Xiaolin knew about this. When Wang Zengqi was interviewed after the huge success of "Receiving the Precepts," he mentioned this incident and thanked Liu Yimin in the newspaper, otherwise the novel might never have been published, making Liu Yimin seem like a talent scout.

"You can introduce us to Harvest Magazine, and we can invite you to be our Beijing-based editor. When you have any good articles, you can directly help us collect them, how about that?"

"Senior sister, I'm just a student!"

"A student? Your student is quite something. I heard he wouldn't even take a professorship, but he's already accepting manuscripts just by opening an editorial office. I've heard that the people who come here are either big-name writers or up-and-coming writers, and you've introduced quite a few people to you!"

Liu Yimin was both amused and exasperated; the tone made him sound like a pimp.

Wan Fang helped Liu Yimin out of the predicament and then pulled her aside to discuss other things.

In Muxidi, Li Yuru had prepared a sumptuous meal and invited everyone to sit down. Liu Yimin quietly turned off the recording device.

Li Yuru walked over and turned it on: "You silly child, I love listening to this. I specially recorded this part, just listen to this part!"

“Teacher’s wife, Yimin is embarrassed!” Zhu Lin did not address Liu Yimin as Teacher Liu in front of Cao Yu, but called him “Yimin” like everyone else.

However, she felt that "Yimin" was not as easy to pronounce as Teacher Liu.

When the conversation turned to something enjoyable, Li Yuru took a few sips of wine and sang a duet of "The Battle of Wits" with Cao Yu. Liu Yimin played Commander Hu in "The Battle of Wits," and his singing made Zhu Lin furrow his brows like screws.

"Back in the day, my group had just started, with only a dozen or so men and seven or eight guns. We were chased by the Locust Army and were completely disoriented."

Seeing the group of people laughing heartily, Zhu Lin said, "I'll play Commander Hu!"

I don't know what she did, but even though her voice didn't sound like a woman's, she still sang quite well.

After the song, Wan Fang suddenly brought up the incident where Mao Dun referred to Liu Yimin as his student in the hospital room. Cao Yu smiled and said, "Yimin is a student of the literary world!"

Upon hearing this, Li Xiaolin said, "Then I'll go back and tell my father the same thing."

"Xiaolin, you really are Brother Ba's good daughter, you truly care about him!"

After dinner, everyone left Muxidi together. Li Xiaolin stayed at the Ministry of Culture's guesthouse. Since Mr. Ba Jin wasn't there, she felt awkward staying at the Yanjing Hotel.

Li Xiaolin will leave Yanjing tomorrow, saying that the conditions at the Ministry of Culture's guesthouse are too poor, and the rooms converted from air-raid shelters are too damp.

Liu Yimin took Zhu Lin home and drank a little alcohol, but he wouldn't drink much at Cao Yu's house, so it didn't affect his ability to ride a bicycle.

"Teacher Liu, the photos will be ready tomorrow. I'll go pick them up with you then." Zhu Lin thought for a moment and said, "Never mind, I'll go tomorrow. You can sleep in. We need to get some sleep before we get to the tough battle!"

"What kind of tough fight?"

"Oh dear, Ms. Liu, you forgot? You're coming to my house!"

"I thought you'd forgotten? That's good, Teacher Liu, I'll protect you!"

"Look, you've had a little drink and you're already wagging your tail again. You really think you're Commander Hu?"

Amidst laughter and conversation, they escorted Zhu Lin home. After some thought, he decided to return to his courtyard house.

Back in the bedroom, the faint fragrance Zhu Lin sometimes left during her afternoon naps was still there, and Liu Yimin soon fell asleep.

There are far fewer rats in the house now, and you can hardly hear them gnawing on things anymore.

Sanhua is doing this better and better.

I vaguely heard a squeaking sound next to my ear, followed by something churning up and down, and then it slowly disappeared.

In his dream, Wei Wei's green military uniform appeared in Liu Yimin's mind, and his figure kept changing until he became Li Lanyong.

Wei Wei's military uniform was a bit loose on him, but he didn't care at all and kept showing off his four pockets to Liu Yimin.

Both upper pockets were filled with fountain pens, their black bodies gleaming in the sunlight.

The loosely fitting military uniform was slowly tightened, the straps were tied around his legs, and a steel helmet, which he had picked up from somewhere, was put on his head. He took off his pen and gave it to Liu Yimin, then turned around and ran into the barracks on his back.
The "thumping" sound woke Liu Yimin up. In the darkness, he tugged on the light bulb cord, and Sanhua sat on the edge of the bed, looking aggrieved.

"This dream felt so real!"

Liu Yimin turned over and went back to sleep, but while Liu Yimin was asleep, some people were not.

The Beijing Evening News published a detailed account of today's award ceremony at the Great Hall of the People, covering the entire event from beginning to end, including all the speeches. Liu Yimin's smile stood out prominently in the article.

Many people sat in courtyards or alleyways with newspapers in hand, discussing the matter with great interest, showing no intention of going to sleep.

Everyone talks about the status of the Mao Dun Literature Prize in China, while those who don't understand literature marvel at the generous prize money, which is as high as three thousand yuan.

My God, three thousand yuan, that's ten years' salary!
"Don't be envious. It takes writers a long time to write. For example, this 'Li Zicheng' has been written for more than ten years."

"That's an exception. Apart from Comrade Yao Xueyin, no one else has written for that long, only a few months. It's said that 'The General's Ballad' only took six months to write, and six months! He earned so much. Did 'The Kite Runner' take three months?"

"Whatever amount they receive is what they deserve; it's based on merit, and they wrote well. There are many writers who don't earn much in royalties!"

Social attitudes began to change slowly, and people began to talk openly about how much they earned and how little they earned, without hiding their desire for wealth.

As the long-haired young man walked through the alley, a pang of sadness rose in his heart, thinking back to the days when his poems were the talk of the town.

Looking at the newspaper in my hand, I sighed with emotion. When I first came to Yanjing, readers welcomed me wholeheartedly. The vibrant scene of life and everything thriving was still vivid in my mind. In just a few short years, everything had changed.

Has this place truly become the burial ground for poetry and for me?
P.S.: It's almost the end of the month, please vote with monthly tickets!

(End of this chapter)