Rebirth of Rural Literary Life

Chapter 251 Awards
After answering Zhu Shimao's letter, He Ping flicked his wrist and tore open Wang Fu's letter.

The content of Wang Fu's letter is very concise and can be summed up in three points.

One, "Fu Gui" became popular;
Second, "Fugui" was about to be published, and the editorial department came to ask for his opinion.

In addition, Wang Fu also said one thing in the letter.

In March this year, Mr. Mao Dun passed away in Beijing.According to his last wish, he donated 25 yuan of his manuscript fee and established the Mao Dun Literature Award.It is stipulated that the selection will be made every three years, and the first selection will be determined in 82. The selection scope is limited to novels from 1977 to 1981.

This is the first literary award named after an individual in China, and it is expected to become the highest award for Chinese novels.

Now that the judging committee has started to open registration, the editorial department intends to register him and write to ask for his opinion.

After reading the letter, what surprised He Ping the most was the matter of the Mao Dun Literature Award.

To say that "Fu Gui" became popular and was published was all in He Ping's expectation, although the speed was a bit faster.

But the matter of the Mao Dun Literature Award really caught him by surprise, and it was still the selection for the first Mao Dun Literature Award. If it is selected, those readers who read time-travel novels will be buried to death at some point in the future.

It's been several years since time travel, and it's finally the Mao Dun Literature Award.

how?Is it so despising the Nobel Prize?
He Ping has never paid much attention to awards or reputation. In this era, it is better to keep a low profile and make a fortune in silence.

But since the editorial department wanted to sign him up with good intentions, he didn't seem to have any reason to refuse, so he just commented, and if he got a lot of bonuses, he didn't lose much if he didn't.

In the letter, Wang Fu asked He Ping to talk to her on the phone. After reading the letter, He Ping got on his bicycle and rode to the commune.

When he arrived at the commune post office, he first mailed the reply letter to Lao Mao, and then called the editorial department of "People's Literature".

"Sister Wang, I am so flat! How are you doing?"

"It's fine, it's fine, and I'm fine too."

"I didn't expect to be so popular. Please help me sign up for the awards. I have no objections."

"The first edition is printed with 10 copies for the first time? Is it too much? Don't you fail to sell it?"

"That's fine, just do what you want, and think about sending me a few more sample booklets later."

"Okay. Novel, novel, what's written on it. Well, someone is going to call later, so I'll hang up first."

He Ping hangs up the phone with a guilty conscience, he never forgets to remind me to update, I am so busy every day, how can I have time to write!
Mao Chunhua looked at her boyfriend with bulingbuling eyes from the side. Every sentence he said was very informative, which made her feel excited.

Several other staff members in the post office also listened with ears pricked up as soon as He Ping called.

When He Ping saw his girlfriend's curious expression, he smiled and flicked her on the head with his hands.

"What are you doing!" Mao Chunhua's family said angrily.

He Ping smiled all over his face, "Teasing you."

"Death." Mao Chunhua gave her a blank look, and then asked: "Who did you call just now? Is "Fugui" about to be published?"

"Well. I just received a letter from the editorial department today, saying that the readers of "Fugui" have received a good response. They want to strike while the iron is hot and publish it directly, and print 10 copies for the first time."

A smile immediately appeared on Mao Chunhua's face, and then he asked: "I just heard you say that the award is going on? What award?"

"Mr. Mao Dun passed away this year. He established the Mao Dun Literature Award with his manuscript fee. The editorial department thinks my novel is good and wants to apply for me."

Mao Chunhua cried out in surprise, and grabbed He Ping's skirt with both hands.

For literary youths, Mao Dun's name is very familiar. When he learned that his boyfriend's work was going to be judged for the Mao Dun Literature Award, Mao Chunhua was so surprised that he couldn't speak for a moment, and he just grabbed He Ping's lapel in foolish joy.

Mao Chunhua's colleagues, who were listening to the corners, also came up together, "What kind of awards are you judging? What kind of awards are you judging?"

"Mao Dun Literature Award, He Ping's novel "Fugui" will be judged for Mao Dun Literature Award." He Ping just wanted to speak when his girlfriend said it first.

"I signed up, but I haven't been judged yet. Can I still comment on whether I can be judged." He Ping quickly corrected.

"Hey, isn't that the one that was mentioned in the newspaper some time ago?"

"Your novel can be judged as soon as it comes out, it's too soon."

"It's well written. He Ping, this is a poem I wrote, please help me read it."

The reactions of the people around were mixed, some were amazed, some were doubtful, and some asked for help to read the manuscript.

He Ping said a few words to the crowd, Mao Chunhua saw that He Ping was surrounded by everyone, went up and dragged He Ping over, "We have something to talk about."

Everyone was sensible and didn't bother, He Ping asked: "What are you talking about?"

"You haven't participated in the reading club for a long time. It's fine if you went to other places before. After coming back for a few days, when you mention this matter, you say you're busy. It's been a month, so you must have some time, right? I'm a reading club Chairman, are you just supporting my work like this?"

When Mao Chunhua mentioned this, he was a little angry. Recently, because of the relationship between "Fu Gui", the members of the book club often asked Mao Chunhua to invite He Ping to come to participate, but He Ping said he was busy every time and pushed him several times.

He Ping smiled apologetically, "It's all my fault, it's all my fault. Isn't it the time for the expansion of the chicken farm? But it's almost too busy. I will definitely go there this weekend."

Mao Chunhua pouted, "That's what you said, if you dare to break your promise again, I'll see how I deal with you."

After finishing speaking, he still threatened He Ping "viciously" with his small fists.

Seeing his girlfriend's cute appearance, He Ping couldn't help scratching her nose.

"What are you doing, be serious." Mao Chunhua pretended to be angry.

"Okay, got it, I'll definitely be there on the weekend."

"It's almost there."

He Ping had another burst of sweet talk, coaxing his girlfriend into forgetfulness. If he hadn't been worried about his colleagues around him, he would have jumped on him long ago.

After the two talked intimately, He Ping rode his bicycle back to Hantun.

On May 1981, 5, the eighth day of the fourth month of the lunar calendar, it is advisable to open and move into the house.

The newly expanded Hantun Chicken Farm was officially opened. The original slightly shabby wooden door was replaced by a large iron door painted black, which seemed to have a little momentum.

A group of people surrounded He Ping, most of them were members of the team, and the surrounding brigade came to see the excitement. In addition, teachers and students from the Agricultural College, and Guo Wenxing, the technical consultant of the pig farm, were also present.

After the two long whips were set off, everyone applauded one after another. With He Ping's pissing nature, how could he not give everyone two tubes of chicken blood at this time.

"Today is the day when the first phase of the new round of expansion of our Hantun chicken farm will be completed and put into use. There will be a second and third phase in the future. After completion, our Hantun chicken farm will become the largest breeding base for laying hens in China. In the future Our eggs will be supplied to Liaoning Province and even the whole country, and I hope that everyone can work together to make our chicken farm better and better and create greater glories!"

Everyone shouted, "Create glory again!"

(End of this chapter)