Ordinary World: Starting with a divorce from Tian Runye

Huangyuan City.

The editorial office of "Huangyuan Literature" was located in a row of bungalows on the east side of the prefectural committee compound. There were three rooms: two for offices and one for storing miscellaneous items. A wooden sign hung at the entrance, with white background and black characters, most of the paint peeling off.

Jia Bing sat at his desk by the window, a stack of handwritten manuscripts spread out in front of him.

This is an article he spent two days compiling, titled "A Record of the Symposium on Literature in the West: Several Voices on the Direction of Literature." It is not a verbatim record of the meeting, but rather a summary and organization of the viewpoints from various parties at the discussion.

Qi Wenyuan's discourse on the purity of literature occupied one section, Du Lili and Li Xiangqian's propositions on literature and reality occupied another section, and the whole article concluded with the consensus statement that "literature should be as broad as the earth."

Jia Bing put his glasses on his nose, looked at it again from beginning to end, changed two words, and put down his pen.

He was satisfied with the article. The viewpoints were well-balanced, and the writing was restrained.

Bang! Bang! There were two knocks on the door.

"Please come in."

Qi Wenyuan pushed open the door and came in, holding a brown paper envelope in his hand.

"Editor-in-Chief Jia, hello."

Qi Wenyuan pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Jia Bing looked up and saw that it was Qi Wenyuan. She smiled, stood up, and poured Qi Wenyuan a cup of tea.

"Wen Yuan, you've come at the right time, the tea is still hot."

Jia Bing genuinely admires Qi Wenyuan. This young man is talented, writes good poetry, and what's even more commendable is his willingness to settle down and refine his language, unlike some people who get carried away after writing a couple of poems.

Qi Wenyuan accepted the teacup, thanked him, and sat down.

"I've written a new poem and would like to ask Editor-in-Chief Jia to review it."

After saying that, he took out a piece of paper from the envelope and handed it over.

Jia Bing took it, adjusted his glasses, and examined it closely.

The poem is short, only eight lines. It describes the sun on the Loess Plateau. The first two lines are "The sun on the Loess Plateau is a rising flame, and also a setting flame," the middle lines shift to "The sun in the sweat is like a flowing flame," and the ending lines are "The loess under the sun is like the sun, and the sun on the Loess Plateau is like the loess."

Jia Bing finished reading and nodded.

"Good. Powerful. The imagery in the last sentence is well-chosen, consistent with your usual style."

Qi Wenyuan smiled slightly, neither modest nor proud.

"I thought about it for a long time while writing it. I always felt that this era needs something tougher."

Jia Bing placed the manuscript paper on the table and patted it.

"It can be published in the next issue. Place it on the front page of the poetry section."

Qi Wenyuan nodded, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

My gaze swept over the manuscript paper spread out on Jia Bing's desk and I saw the title.

"A Record of the Symposium on Literature in the West: Several Voices on the Direction of Literature".

"Wen Yuan, you've come at the right time. This is a compilation of papers from the discussion, which I plan to publish next time along with your poem. Could you take a look and give me your feedback?"

Jia Bing is also a poet who has experienced some of the times, and he wholeheartedly agrees with Li Xiangqian's proposal for literary inclusiveness.

Qi Wenyuan's expression hardened. Yesterday, he had heard that Jia Bing was going to publish the contents of the Yuanxi Literature Symposium in Huangyuan Literature and Art. As the president of the Huangyuan Poetry Society, he had been severely embarrassed by Li Xiangqian's defense at the meeting, and several members of the poetry society who attended the meeting had already begun to gossip about him privately. Now, Jia Bing was going to publish and distribute those absurd arguments, wouldn't that make him even more embarrassed?

Early this morning, Qi Wenyuan approached Jia Bing under the guise of appreciating poetry, hoping to persuade her.

Qi Wenyuan took the manuscript paper, leaned back in his chair, and turned the pages one by one.

He read very slowly.

His expression remained unchanged when he saw his own part of the speech. His gaze lingered on Li Xiangqian's part for a slightly longer period.

"Aging never begins with age."

"Literature is as vast as the earth and as boundless as the sea."

Qi Wenyuan finished reading the last page, tidied up the manuscript paper, and put it back on Jia Bing's table.

"Well written. Very objective."

Jia Bing smiled.

"What do you think needs to be adjusted?"

Qi Wenyuan pondered for a moment.

"Editor-in-Chief Jia, there's nothing wrong with the article itself. The presentation of viewpoints is also very fair."

He paused for a moment, placed the teacup on the table, and gently circled his finger around the rim of the cup.

"However... I have a slight concern. Comrade Li Xiangqian's views, how should I put it, are sharp and energetic. It's not a bad thing for young people to dare to think and speak their minds."

Jia Bing listened and nodded.

"but."

Qi Wenyuan raised his head and looked at Jia Bing.

"Editor-in-Chief Jia knows the current situation in Huangyuan better than I do. When Secretary Miao held the literature and art symposium at the Huangyuan Hotel last time, he mentioned that we should be wary of the unhealthy trends that are emerging now. We need to consider Secretary Miao's views. Some things are fine to say in a discussion, but it's a different story when they are written down. Speaking out for the people's right to pursue a better life can be interpreted as caring about people's livelihood, but it can also be interpreted as advocating money worship. If someone takes things out of context, it will be bad for Huangyuan Literature and Art, and it will also be bad for that young person."

Qi Wenyuan said sincerely.

Jia Bing thought for a moment, pondered for a while, and then waved his hand.

"Wen Yuan, I understand your concerns. But discussions are meant to be a platform for everyone to express their opinions. We've presented both sides of the viewpoint, and the readers can make their own judgments. If a literary journal can't even be this inclusive, what kind of publication is it?"

He smiled and patted the manuscript paper.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Qi Wenyuan looked at Jia Bing, wanting to say something more, but found that Jia Bing had already made her position clear. If he tried to persuade her further, he would be suspected of having ulterior motives.

He stood up and shook hands with Jia Bing.

"Then I'll do as Editor-in-Chief Jia says. I'll be going now."

"Okay. Don't worry about the poetry; it'll be on the front page next issue."

Qi Wenyuan smiled and nodded. As he turned to leave, he glanced sideways and saw Jia Bing looking at the stack of manuscripts with great excitement.

After leaving the editorial office's bungalow, Qi Wenyuan didn't return to the poetry society. Instead, he slowly walked westward along the path of the prefectural committee compound. The leaves of the two rows of old poplar trees curled up under the afternoon sun, and cicadas chirped hoarsely in the trees.

Qi Wenyuan did not walk fast.

The Huangyuan Prefectural Committee and Government office building is not far away.

He paused for a moment as he passed the office building.

I turned into the office building.

The old man in the gatehouse was taking a nap at a table under the shade of a tree. Qi Wenyuan glanced at him, ignored him, and went straight into the office building lobby.

The second floor of the office building, at the end of the corridor.

This is the office of Gao Fengge, deputy secretary of the Huangyuan Prefectural Committee.

The office was locked, so Gao Fengge was obviously not there.

Xiao Zhou from the Prefectural Party Committee Office recognized Qi Wenyuan.

"Is Comrade Wen Yuan looking for Secretary Gao?"

Qi Wenyuan nodded: "There's something I'd like to report to Secretary Gao."

Gao Fengge was in charge of the propaganda work of the Huangyuan Prefectural Committee. He often dealt with cultural workers and always respected influential poets like Qi Wenyuan.

"That's unfortunate. Secretary Miao convened a meeting of the Standing Committee of the Prefectural Committee today, so Secretary Gao probably won't be back for a while," Xiao Zhou said, pouring Qi Wenyuan a cup of tea.

Qi Wenyuan accepted the tea and sat down on a bench in the corridor: "No rush, I'll wait for Secretary Gao here."

Xiao Zhou glanced at the clock on the wall: "It will probably take some time. Comrade Wen Yuan, if the matter is not urgent, you can schedule another time with Secretary Gao, and I will pass on the message for you."

Qi Wenyuan quickly waved his hand: "It's just some arts and culture stuff. I'll wait here for a bit so I don't have to make another trip."

"Alright, have a seat for a while. I'll let you know after Secretary Gao finishes his meeting."

After saying that, Xiao Zhou carried a stack of materials and hurried up to the third floor.

Qi Wenyuan sat there, legs crossed, very quietly.

I sat on the long bench in the corridor for almost an hour. During that time, Xiao Zhou came twice. The first time, he said that Secretary Gao was still in a meeting in the conference room and poured Qi Wenyuan another cup of tea. The second time, he said that he would be here soon.