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

Chapter 66: That young man doesn't need to revise the manuscript (Please continue reading)

The first time he rode his bicycle from Yenching University to the editorial office of *People's Literature*, he felt a sense of entering the city. Outside Yenching University, farmland stretched on both sides of the road, and members of the nearby commune were busy harvesting sweet potatoes. The brigade leaders and village secretaries were directing the harvesters in the fields, and anyone caught slacking off was met with a barrage of insults.

In just a few decades, the farmland near Yenching University has been transformed into high-rise buildings.

No. 166 Chaonei Street is a rectangular gray building facing the street. The building has five floors, and the doors and windows facing the street are tightly closed, giving the feeling of being oblivious to the outside world and only focused on studying the classics.

The first-floor door has a white sign with black lettering that reads "People's Literature and Art". The door and the building are one unit. Looking inside from the door, it is dark and dimly lit.

Once inside, the corridors on both sides were covered with all sorts of big-character posters, some green and some white, as well as excerpts from recently published articles.

Most of them were works from "Scar Literature". I saw "Mr. Donkey" at the very back, but because of its age, the wind had blown up the edges of the paper, and it wouldn't last much longer in its tattered state.

A figure emerged from the darkness; it was a thin gay man with long hair, combed back, which made his face appear large. After glancing at Liu Yimin, he asked疑惑地问道, "Why haven't I seen you before?"

"This is my first time here!" Liu Yimin felt that this person looked familiar.

"Your first time? Submitted?"

Seeing Liu Yimin nod, the man slapped Liu Yimin on the shoulder and said, "Don't be nervous. My name is Feng Jicai. I'm on secondment to People's Literature and Art to revise manuscripts."

Wow! Old Feng, no wonder you looked familiar. But how did you tell I was nervous?
"It's okay if it's your first time here. People's Literature welcomes you. As long as you have a dream of writing, we can all achieve great things. Are you here to submit a manuscript or to edit one? Judging from your appearance, you don't have any luggage, so you're probably here to submit a manuscript!"

Let me tell you, don't have too high hopes for your first submission. Of course, if it can be revised, the editor will let you revise it; who knows, maybe we'll end up living together someday.

Feng Jicai came to People's Literature and Art in 77 and did not leave until 79. He stayed at No. 166 Chaonei Street for two years, revising manuscripts for two years.

The arrival of new people is what makes them happiest. After a long time here, seeing the same few faces all the time makes life a bit monotonous.

“I’ll talk to the editor; it might not need any changes.” Cui Daoyi pointed out the issues from last time, and the two agreed on the rest.

"Look! Young people, that's what they mean by being young! There's no such thing as a manuscript that doesn't need revisions. I used to think that way too. There's a saying here: good works aren't written, they're edited. Besides, there's a subsidy for revising manuscripts here, so why not revise them? It's just that if it's ultimately rejected, you'll have to pack your bags and leave."

Feng Jicai put his arm around Liu Yimin's shoulder, looking like someone who had been through it all.

Reaching the third floor, Feng Jicai said with a smile, "Look, go inside. It's divided into the South Group and the North Group. Yanjing is the North Group, just go straight in. Our revision team is on the fourth floor. I hope we can meet on the fourth floor again."

"Thank you!"

"Don't be so polite, young comrade. As I said, it's okay if it's your first time here. Anyone with a dream of writing is remarkable."

After finishing speaking, Feng Jicai walked towards the fourth floor without looking back.

The editorial office door was open, and Liu Yimin politely knocked before going in. The editorial office of *People's Literature and Art* was even more cramped than that of *Poetry Journal*, with seven or eight tables against the wall, also piled high with manuscripts.

The overhead wires were exposed outside the wall, with an incandescent light bulb hanging in the middle, looking like it was about to fall.

As soon as he entered, several editors looked up at him from different directions, then exchanged glances, seemingly trying to confirm whose author it was.

"I'm looking for editor Cui Daoyi. My name is Liu Yimin."

As soon as the words were spoken, Cui Daoyi immediately looked up from a stack of envelopes. At first, his eyes were a little dazed, and it took him a few seconds to react.

He exclaimed with delight, "Yimin, you've come!"

"Senior brother, here's your manuscript!" Liu Yimin took the manuscript out of his bag and handed it to Cui Daoyi.

“I was about to come looking for you even though you weren’t here! Wait a minute, let me check!” Cui Daoyi found a stool for Liu Yimin, and another editor immediately poured him tea and handed it to him: “Comrade Liu Yimin? You’re indeed young. My name is Xie Mingqing. Here, have some water.”

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome. We should be thanking you."

After quickly reading the manuscript, Cui Daoyi said, "After Lao Xue passed away, Xiao Ba built a nest next to Lao Xue's grave to keep him company. Such loyalty is truly touching!"

"Let's take a look too!" The other editors excitedly gathered around.

"Senior brother, is there anything that needs to be changed?"

"What? Are you in a hurry?" Cui Daoyi asked.

"I want to go to the Writers' Association guesthouse, I have something to take care of!" Liu Yimin said.

"Then go ahead. I've looked at it and there's nothing to change. There's still time before the next publication. If anything comes up, I'll come to Yenching University to find you. It's a pity that the editor-in-chief, Lao Zhang, has been wanting to see you, but unfortunately, he went to the Ministry of Culture today."

Cui Daoyi shook his head regretfully.

"I live in Yenching, and I'll have my chance sooner or later. I've admired Mr. Zhang Guangnian for a long time. I've been singing the Yellow River Cantata since I was a child!"

"You're so good with words, hurry up and go!"

When Liu Yimin reached the door, Cui Daoyi called out, made a "seven" gesture at him, and said, "I'll fight for you."

Immediately afterward, they heard Liu Yimin's footsteps as he came down the stairs. Cui Daoyi raised his teacup, blew on the steam, and said slowly, "Look how anxious my junior brother is!"

Feng Jicai waited on the fourth floor for a long time but Liu Yimin did not come. He thought that Liu Yimin's manuscript had not been approved, otherwise he would definitely have been arranged to stay on the fourth floor and revise the manuscript. Fortunately, he did not ask what his name was!
The next day, he went to the editorial office to have the editor review the manuscript. He couldn't help but ask, and the editor smiled and told him that the young man didn't need any revisions.

"That's Liu Yimin!"

Liu Yimin quietly arrived at the guesthouse. Old Ma tended the boiler at night and dozed off in the boiler room during the day when he had nothing to do. However, winter was coming, and the guesthouse asked him to make some coal briquettes, as they might need them later.

"Young comrade, it's you!" Old Ma was making coal briquettes with a mold, and then he put the coal briquettes on the open ground to dry.

"Comrade Ma, let me help you!"

"No, don't dirty your hands. Your hands are for writing. You came to me because you want to hear about my past?"

"Yes, I'd like to hear what you have to say!"

“Okay, I’ll explain it to you. Once you’ve finished writing it, let me take a look. I can’t read, so I’ll have someone else read it to me. If I can become a character in a book in this lifetime, it’ll be worth dying for.”

Liu Yimin helped mix the coal, while Lao Ma talked and worked at the same time, without delaying anything.

In the editorial office of Poetry Journal, an editor said to Zou Huofan, who was reviewing manuscripts, "Old Zou, why do I feel like I'm seeing Liu Yimin?"

"Where?"

“Working with Lao Ma, he looks like him but not quite. How could Yimin be hanging out with Lao Ma?”

Zou Huofan quickly capped the pen hanging on the chest of his jacket and stood up nimbly: "That's right, it's this kid. I have to hurry, or he'll get away!"

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(End of this chapter)