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

Chapter 78 The Ambition of "People's Literature"
"He really agreed to attend our party?"

On the way back, Chu Hong asked countless times, making Zhu Lin subconsciously doubt whether he had misheard.

What do you think of Comrade Liu Yimin?

"He's polite, unlike some people who are arrogant and conceited!"

"But he probably didn't eat the gift we gave him last time. I gave him savory biscuits, but he said they were sweet."

"Hahaha!"

The dance Zhu Lin mentioned was actually a social gathering, an expanded version of a poetry recital, with just a few more people singing a few songs. Ballroom dancing is currently not allowed in China; it's considered a feudal and capitalist activity.

Winter in Yanjing is truly cold. Even before December, Liu Yimin felt that the cotton-padded trousers he was wearing weren't enough. The northwest wind, formed by the Siberian cold front, began to blow incessantly throughout the night, carrying yellow sand that lashed against his face, and he could occasionally taste a mouthful of sand.

Compared to Ru County, the yellow sand in Yanjing is thicker and heavier, making it incredibly authentic to breathe.

Chen Dazhi, a native of Jincheng, was quite used to the cold. Liu Zhenyun, a former soldier from north of the Yellow River, was dressed lightly but was in good spirits.

Liu Yimin was shivering from the cold, while Li Xueqin, who came from the south, was so cold that he was considered a grandson by the people of Yanjing.

He was planning to get some tickets to buy a military overcoat sometime, or perhaps obtain one through other means. His family then sent him a brand-new overcoat.

In his letter, Liu Yiguo, the eldest brother, said that he had asked someone to help him get a blue military overcoat, and having heard that it was cold in Yanjing, he sent it to him. In the letter, he told Liu Yimin not to worry about the family and to focus on his studies. He added that he had now been transferred to a civilian job and was earning more money as a cadre.

The mining bureau is a good workplace. Every winter, all the departments try to get more coal quotas so they can give their employees coal coupons for heating. To get extra quotas, you have to show your appreciation, so the mining bureau is currently offering the best benefits, giving out things and coupons all the time.

Wearing a blue military overcoat and a Thunder hat, his warmth was multiplied, and he attracted envious glances from many people as he walked around the school.

"I really envy you for having such a good older brother!" Li Xueqin said, stroking the thick military overcoat, his saliva almost dripping from his mouth.

"What are you saying? I don't envy my brother for having such a good younger brother. Comrade Li Xueqin, it'll be another three years. You need to learn to adapt at Yenching University. Revolutionaries are always full of fighting spirit."

Liu Yimin patted him on the shoulder and walked towards the library.

Unexpectedly, he ran into Zhang Manling on the road. She was holding a book and greeted him warmly when she saw Liu Yimin. She then showed off the book in her hand: "Yimin, Eugénie Grandet. I queued for three hours to buy it. This is the last copy. Do you want to read it? I'll lend it to you first."

"No need, Manling. You've waited in line for so long, you can take it and read it. I haven't fully understood the Chinese classics yet, so I won't read the foreign ones for now!" Liu Yimin waved his hand with a smile and refused.

"Look at your modesty. If you haven't figured it out, then no one in the Chinese department besides the professors has figured it out either." He then paused, looking at Liu Yimin suspiciously: "Did you already look at it?"

"You're really smart. You've only looked at a little bit, and your research isn't deep enough."

"Where did you read it?" Zhang Manling asked curiously. Foreign classics have only recently been made available, and there are always long queues every time they are released. Liu Yimin didn't buy any.

Liu Yimin thought for a moment and casually said, "I worked in the editorial department of Poetry Journal for a while. Some of the older colleagues there had this book and borrowed it to read."

Zhang Manling nodded after hearing this, then smiled wryly and said, "You beat me to it again. I thought I would be the first to see it. Now that you've seen it, tell me about Grandet, this greedy and stingy man from the capitalist world."

"I'll wash your lunchbox for lunch!"

"Okay, deal!"

Foreign classics had a profound influence on Chinese literary circles in the 1980s. The character of Grandet in "Eugénie Grandet" was used by many people to describe their stingy friends.

If you encounter a stingy person, you can simply call them "Grandet," which is not vulgar and can even show off your literary skills.

"Is this the novel you're currently writing? It's quite an interesting title, 'The Flames of War in Beiping.' But I'm sure I can catch up with you," Zhang Manling said defiantly.

"Comrade Manling, the most important thing for a person is to surpass themselves!"

"Great writers always have a lot of wisdom!"

Inside the editorial office of *People's Literature and Art*, Cui Daoyi was busy at work. The sample copies of the 12th issue of *People's Literature and Art* had already been printed. After reviewing the manuscripts for this issue, editor-in-chief Zhang Guangnian immediately approved an additional print run of 300,000 copies compared to the first batch last month.

Cui Daoyi glanced at the sample copy of this issue. The cover featured an old man and a yellow dog. In the boundless desert and endless sand dunes, an old man in a tattered yellow military uniform carried a shovel and walked through the desert.

A yellow dog followed beside them, both the person and the dog were seen from behind. But upon closer inspection, the dog's posture seemed to be tilting its head back, looking at the reader.

"Old Cui, the entire company has high hopes for Comrade Liu Yimin's novel, and we've printed an additional 300,000 copies!" Zhang Guangnian said with a smile, but his voice carried a hint of worry, as if he was afraid that the copies wouldn't sell out.

"I've read it, and the content is absolutely fine. It's also very timely now, with yellow sand ravaging Beijing. It lets readers see the efforts our country has made in combating desertification and appreciate the hard work of forest workers."

Cui Daoyi looked relaxed, without Zhang Guangnian's worries. Even editors who had seen countless manuscripts were moved by this story; how much more so would the readers!
"Harvest will be republished soon. With Ba Jin in charge, our national journal's reputation won't be enough. We'll use this issue to show Ba Jin that People's Literature and Art is not just sitting around doing nothing! I've made a guarantee to the leaders of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles that we'll sell at least 500,000 copies."

With major magazines preparing to resume publication and publishing houses also announcing plans to launch new magazines, the pressure on Zhang Guangnian can be imagined.

"If we can get Liu Yimin's article to sell 700,000 copies, I'll treat him to dinner at Yenching University. Interestingly, when I met Mr. Wan at the Writers' Association this time, he actually asked me if I knew anything about Liu Yimin?"

"Old Wan? Master Jiabao?" Cui Daoyi was taken aback. This man's ability to mention Liu Yimin was clearly not that simple. Given the old man's status, he wouldn't mention a newcomer without a purpose.

"Yes, of course I said I don't know, I've never seen it."

Cao Yu, whose real name is Wan Jiabao, is a figure in the literary and artistic circles whose influence is immense.

"Old Zhang, you haven't even met him, yet you still can't praise him? My junior brother is exceptionally talented, humble, and of high moral character."

The sales figures for "People's Literature" were still unknown, but the staff at "Today" magazine were overjoyed. Since they posted the magazine in various schools and parks, they had received many letters from people wanting to subscribe to "Today," some of which secretly contained money. Some even went to the courtyards to knock on doors and slip money to encourage them.

“I told you, once our poems are published, Liu Yimin will have no chance!” Zhang Pengzhi said smugly, and then revealed the story of how he met Liu Yimin when he was posting the magazine.

"Hey, that country bumpkin said our writing is pretty good!"

(End of this chapter)