1978: A Literary Giant Who Began His Military Service

Chapter 9 is very well written.

The colleague in the propaganda department didn't read the novel carefully and casually tossed the letter to the Political Department of the Wuhan Military Region.

Two days later, the letter sped off to the political department of the military region in their unit's car.

~

The General Political Department and the Political Department of the Military Region are not the same department; the General Political Department is the head of the head of the Political Department of the Military Region.

hmm~
The review of relevant manuscripts is conducted uniformly by sending them to the political department of the military region.

In the morning, the leaders gradually entered the room after breakfast.

The submitted artworks, novels, and magazine articles were placed in different locations. Most of them were works by members of the cultural troupe, while some were works by grassroots soldiers.

Zhou Zhigang casually picked up a few letters. He took a drag on his cigarette and muttered a complaint:
"Victory creator, this quality is really poor!"

Each military region has its own cultural troupe. The famous Zhanqi Troupe of the Chengdu Military Region features a group of people including Xue Baochai, Liu Xiaoqing, and Han Hong's mother.

Then there's the comrades-in-arms group from the Capital Military Region, I heard Feng Xiaogang served there...

Theirs, from the Wuhan Military Region, is called the Victory Cultural Troupe.

After watching the performance by the Shengli Art Troupe, Zhou Zhigang breathed a sigh of relief and picked up a thick letter.

The novel is a total of 145,000 words... Zhou Xu originally didn't intend to write so much, but the more he wrote, the more something felt off, and he wanted to write everything down.

Zhou Zhigang unexpectedly turned to the first page and saw the title "Changjin Lake".

Changjin Lake? He was somewhat familiar with that name. He figured it must be a story about the north. Zhou Zhigang was now curious and wanted to read on to find out what happened next.

A single sheet of paper only contains a few hundred words, but Zhou Xu used over five hundred sheets, filling them completely.

Zhou Zhigang wasn't really keen on reading it, but he still thought he'd read a few pages to test the waters.

But he couldn't resist watching it; once he started, he became quite engrossed.

He scratched his head and continued reading.

"..."

The story revolves around the heroic battles fought by the soldiers of the Ninth Army Corps of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army in extremely cold conditions.

The main characters are two brothers, Wu Qianli and Wu Wanli, who go to the battlefield together to defend their country...

Zhou Zhigang stroked his beard and quietly read the novel.

Most of the novels submitted to the military region fall into this category. Some are thrilling and tragic military-themed, while others are heartwarming and poignant about military life…

This novel falls into the first category; it has elements of passion but its main tone is one of sorrow.

……

Why did Zhou Xu choose the relatively simple story of "Changjin Lake" as his first novel?

I have some ideas for other novels, such as "1942" and "Soldiers' Assault"... but none of them fit the era or my own background.

Only in "The Battle at Lake Changjin" is there any strangeness in the writing, since his father was a real volunteer soldier.

Zhou Zhigang had been reading the novel, originally intending to stop after a few pages, but he didn't expect to get so engrossed in it.

Seeing that it was almost time, the communications officer came over and asked, "Old Chief! It's lunchtime."

Zhou Zhigang rarely asks his correspondent to bring him food, but today, engrossed in reading a novel, he said, "Could you just bring me something?"

Do you want meat?

"Just eat what's in the cafeteria, don't give me any extra food."

"Oh!"

Soon, the messenger knocked on the office door with food, placing two bowls of food in front of Zhou Zhigang.

Zhou Zhigang held the manuscript in one hand and a spoon in the other.

After quickly finishing the food in a few bites, the manuscript paper was slowly emptied.

"Tsk, this novel is really well written. With this momentum and passion, I feel it's the best manuscript I've seen in the past few days!"

As the deputy director of the political department of the military region, Zhou Zhigang had read many of the military region's works.

He also consulted many other works, including those from "PLA Literature and Art" and "People's Literature." He dared to say that the novel was of a fairly high standard, at least among magazine novels, it was considered to be of an upper-middle level.

"Hey! This letter was delivered from a grassroots unit?"

"Yes, it was sent over from the recruit training camp this morning."

"The recruit company?" Zhou Zhigang wasn't surprised. The recruit company was known for its hidden talents; after all, they hadn't been assigned to units yet, and the people there came from all over the country with varying educational backgrounds. Who knew, maybe one of them was a novelist?

"Is this a work submitted to a magazine?"

"The only recruit in the recruit company who wanted to submit his work to 'PLA Literature and Art'."

“Alright, you write a reply…” After considering all options, Zhou Zhigang felt uneasy: “Forget it, I’ll submit it to *PLA Literature and Art* first. If it’s rejected, we’ll publish it in our internal military magazine. I’ll handle writing the letter.”

"Okay, I'll go help right away." The correspondent waited for Zhou Zhigang to finish writing the letter, then slipped it into the manuscript and immediately went to mail it out.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

the next morning.

Zhou Xu got out of bed, changed into his green military uniform. It was November, and even in Wuhan it was cold. A gust of cold wind blew in, and his buttocks felt a little cold.

So Zhou Xu stuffed a piece of clothing inside his military uniform.

After washing up, we gathered to do morning exercises.

The morning exercises and lunchtime training are now just the simplest military training for them, similar to university military training, but the training is definitely more rigorous than that in university.

Breakfast consisted of a bowl of porridge and some pickled vegetables, and sure enough, the food for the rest of the day was lacking.

Zhou Xu was drinking porridge, still not fully recovered.

At noon and in the afternoon, they began teaching soldiers basic skills such as standing at ease, standing at attention, body turning, and military posture.

Squad Leader Li stood ramrod straight: "About turn, about turn... Hey, Wang Kang! Can't you tell left from right?"

Wang Kang scratched his head, embarrassed: "Class monitor, I've never been to school."

Squad Leader Li walked over and began to instruct: "Which hand are you using to eat with your chopsticks?"

Wang Kang raised his right hand.

"This is the right side!"

"So this is the left side?"

Li Jin hadn't expected there to be such a clever person on the team. He smiled helplessly and said, "Nonsense! Do you understand now?"

"Report, I understand!"

"Again, ready, assembly line operation, left turn!"

"..."

Zhou Xu stood at attention for two hours at noon. Although he didn't want to stay in the team, he tried his best to do well, so he didn't make any major mistakes.

Because he had some foundation, his training results were relatively advanced.

I went to the cafeteria.

Looking at the usual three dishes of cabbage, potatoes, and tofu, Zhou Youcai sighed, "It's only the second day and there's already no oil left!"

Then he glanced to the side, naturally looking at the bowls of the company commander and platoon leader.

Li Jin quickly noticed his sly look. Squad Leader Li didn't say anything, but he didn't like soldiers who had ulterior motives.

Zhou Xu ate his food slowly: "Class monitor, class monitor! I have another question I want to ask you!"

"You go first, I'll answer if I can."

"You mean... cough cough... how long does it take for this letter to travel from the propaganda department to the political department and then back home?"

Squad Leader Li smiled and said, "You're still thinking about that letter of yours? Usually, once the mail is full, it's sent out in one go. The fastest it can get to the Political Department of the Military Region is two days. If it's sent to other places, it depends on the postal service! It will take three or four days, maybe a week."

Zhou Xu nodded. According to Sergeant Li's calculations, he would have to stay here for at least two or three weeks before the draft could be approved, and perhaps he would only have a chance to be transferred after his two or three months as a new recruit.

Fortunately, the recruit training was relatively easy. What if I had performed exceptionally well and been sent to the front-line unit?
He shuddered at the sounds of training next door; could an ordinary person really sustain such a training regimen?
I just hope to join the performing arts troupe as soon as possible.

Training will continue in the afternoon.

Zhou Xu's performance remained outstanding, and coupled with his intelligence and understanding of his responsibilities, Li Jin grew increasingly fond of him. However, he still felt that Zhou Xu wanted to join the performing arts troupe; otherwise, he would have recommended Zhou Xu to his old unit.

They trained until evening.

After finishing their meal, the group returned to their dormitory in a disorganized manner.

I fetched water outside to wash up.

Let alone going out for a stroll, this group of people are lucky if they don't suffer a lot of damage from their first training session.

(End of this chapter)