Traveling back to 1977

Chapter 808 Roll Call Participation
As they left the Jingxi Hotel and reached the main road, Jiang Tiantian asked, "Weren't you with the Jiangnan delegation?"

Chen Fan turned to look at her and smiled, "No, Uncle He is still handling official business today. He will take the train over this afternoon, and I don't know if he will be able to make it to the opening ceremony tomorrow morning."

Jiang Tiantian nodded, "Oh, so Uncle He is so busy."

Upon hearing this, Chen Fan burst out laughing. "He's busy counting money. The royalties for 'Saint Seiya' were delayed for almost two months and were only paid out yesterday. The check he gave me hasn't even been cashed yet. He's also busy distributing foreign exchange with the department and dealing with the Jiangying Film Studio's TV series project. I told him about that yesterday too, and he needs to keep an eye on that as well."

He shook his head as he spoke, "He doesn't seem like the chairman of the Writers' Association at all now. He's more like a businessman, always calculating how much money he can make."

Jiang Tiantian burst out laughing, "If Uncle He hears you talking about him like that, he'll definitely make a scene."

He then wrinkled his nose and said, "However, I think Uncle He is indeed busier than other writers' association leaders. I see that Ba Jin hardly manages the internal affairs of the association. It is usually handled by several vice-chairmen. He focuses more on writing and editing the magazine."

Chen Fan smiled and said, "It's different. Ba Jin plays more of a symbolic role. The Shanghai Writers Association has produced many talented people, many of whom are old comrades-in-arms. With Ba Jin as the mediator, others can naturally get things done."

But the Jiangnan Writers Association is different. The more outstanding writers of yesteryear either left Jiangnan for Beijing or Shanghai, or a number of them were wiped out during a major upheaval. Now, fewer than a hundred remain. These people are either too old and lack energy, or they are rising stars who cannot command respect. They can only rely on Uncle He to hold things together.

He suddenly chuckled as he spoke, turned to look at Jiang Tiantian, and said with a smile, "Believe it or not, without Uncle He backing me up, even if I had the greatest talent, I wouldn't be able to use it at all. At best, I'd be like you in the Shanghai Writers Association, a pretty mascot to show that we also have rising stars. As for anything else, don't even think about it."

Hearing this, Jiang Tiantian nodded in deep agreement, "I believe you."

She spent nearly two years at the Shanghai Writers Association, where she saw and learned a lot. However, following Chen Fan broadened her horizons and thinking considerably. Her perspective on issues became unique, and her way of thinking became closer to that of later generations. Therefore, in her eyes, there were actually many problems both within the Shanghai Literature and Art magazine and within the Writers Association.

But she wasn't Chen Fan, nor did she hold any position within the magazine or the Writers' Association. Even if she had any ideas, she could only submit them to her mentor in the form of a suggestion. And what she received in return was a warning from her mentor, whether intentional or unintentional.

They told me things like, "You're still young, don't be too ambitious, focus your energy on your creative work, and mind your own business," etc.

She didn't even need to do it twice; after being rebuffed once, she learned to shut up.

Therefore, she naturally understood what Chen Fan was saying.

Seeing that she understood, Chen Fan said, "So, whether Uncle He is happy or not, he has to sit in this position and do these things. If he doesn't step up, the Jiangnan Writers Association will just be a stagnant pool. Perhaps even the Jiangnan Literature and Art magazine hasn't been republished yet, let alone anything else."

Although most provincial writers' associations have resumed publishing their journals in the past two years, such as literary magazines like "Shanghai Literature and Art," "Yanjing Literature and Art," and "Donghai Literature and Art," a few provinces have not yet made any progress.

This isn't about having more or fewer members; it's simply a case of "three monks have no water to drink," with no one willing to submit to anyone else. Without a leader, nothing can be accomplished.

Since ancient times, scholars have been prone to mutual disdain. If you don't have overwhelming abilities, even if you are appointed by higher authorities, people may not necessarily respect you, and there are quite a few who are outwardly compliant but inwardly defiant.

If it weren't for the trend of restoring the official journal after this literary congress, some provincial branches might still be indifferent and insist on fighting it out first.

Thinking of this, Chen Fan suddenly asked, "Sweetie, how many people actually came to this meeting?"

I had heard He Qingsheng and the others say that there would be a lot of people at this meeting, definitely over a thousand or something.

If it's only a few thousand, surely several representatives wouldn't be crammed into one room?

Old Ba has started kicking people out... Well, he deliberately let Chen Fan take people away, but it also shows that there are indeed too many people and not enough rooms.

Jiang Tiantian knew that Chen Fan had been busy filming a movie for the past month or two, and when he had free time, he would go to school to attend classes. It was normal that he was unaware of this meeting.

She then said with a smile, "There are more than 3,200 delegates from all over the country attending this conference..."

Chen Fan was startled as soon as he started talking. "More than 3,200 people? How can there be so many?"

Jiang Tiantian wrinkled her nose and said, "I heard Ba Jin mention that many writers and artists who had been scattered from all directions took the initiative to participate. They wrote to the Federation of Literary and Art Circles, and after discussing it with leaders such as Zhou Yang and Mao Jin, they consulted with the leaders and finally decided to agree to the request of these veteran comrades."

Then, besides writers, anyone involved in the arts wanted to participate. Some of them didn't even have their own associations, like calligraphers. They wanted to take this opportunity to separate calligraphers from the artists' association and establish a separate calligraphers' association.

Chen Fan nodded slightly as he listened. There is indeed no national calligraphers association yet, but some provinces have their own calligraphers associations. For example, Shanghai has a calligraphy and seal carving association. Back then, Ba Jin wanted to recruit him, but he refused because he was not registered in Shanghai.

Ba Jin said at the time that once the National Calligraphers Association was established, he would be invited to become a national member.

Chen Fan figured it was still up in the air, so he didn't take it seriously. He figured it wouldn't be long before he got another title.

Jiang Tiantian carefully relayed some of what Ba Jin had said, and finally said, "So there are so many people, and many of them are seniors who were injured in the windy days."

As she said this, she sighed softly, “I thought our family had suffered enough, but when I saw those veteran artists, I realized what they had been through. I once saw a traditional opera performer who was over 60 years old. His left leg was broken in a strong wind, and he walked with a limp, but he practiced kicking every morning. He wore special shoes and performed on stage, and you couldn’t tell that his leg was broken at all.”

There was also a singer in her fifties who practiced her voice every morning, and her voice was still like a young girl's.

Chen Fan turned to look at her, reached out and touched his head, and smiled, "Everything is in the past now, and things will be better from now on."

Jiang Tiantian turned to look at him, smiled, and said, "Mm."

By this time, the car had reached the vicinity of the square. Chen Fan clicked his tongue, looked at the direction, and was a little unsure. "I wonder if Master and the others are at home or at the Taoist temple?"

Jiang Tiantian tilted her head and thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Then let's go to the house first and see. If we don't find it there, we'll go to the Taoist temple."

Chen Fan sighed, "This is really troublesome. The main problem is that I haven't had lunch yet."

Jiang Tiantian's eyes widened instantly. "Huh? You haven't had lunch yet?"

Chen Fan pursed his lips, "Yeah, my flight is at noon. I'll come straight to you when I get home. I won't have time to eat."

Jiang Tiantian immediately said, "Then let's go straight to the Taoist temple. There's food in the kitchen. Let's eat something first. Anyway, Master and the others should have eaten by now, so there's no rush."

Chen Fan looked at her and chuckled, "You do know how to care about people."

Jiang Tiantian blushed slightly, turned her head to look ahead, paused for two seconds, then suddenly realized what he meant and asked him, "Isn't there food on the plane? Didn't you eat?"

Chen Fan turned the steering wheel and drove towards Chaoyang Temple, laughing, "I ate two servings of roast duck rice, but it still feels a bit lacking."

Jiang Tiantian was speechless. The airplane meals were limited; everyone else only got one serving, but she ate two. She probably charmed the flight attendants again. The two chatted for a while, and soon arrived at Chaoyang Temple.

I parked the car in the backyard of the Taoist temple as usual, knocked on the door and went in. Liu Juan opened the door again.

It's not surprising. The courtyard gate is right at the kitchen door, and she stays in the kitchen all day long. If nothing unexpected happens, she's usually the one who opens the door.

Liu Juan was very happy to see Chen Fan and chattered on and on.

Actually, Chen Fan left in early August, less than three months ago. There's not much to say about him.

However, there is something new: Master Zhang and his group don't come here as often now. Instead, they go to the surrounding parks most frequently.

Chen Fan first asked Ma Lan to prepare the meal, then looked at Liu Juan and asked, "What are they doing in the park? Are they trying to recruit believers to burn incense?"

Liu Juan looked at him in surprise, "Brother Chen, you're amazing! How did you guess that?"

Chen Fan said irritably, "I'm really fed up with them. Aren't they afraid of being accused of feudal superstition and getting burned?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhang Xuansong walked in, leaning on his cane, and glared at him, saying, "Isn't this your fault? You promised to write a novel and make a movie, and it's been three months already. Where's the movie you made?"

Then, pointing to Jiang Tiantian sitting to the side, he said, "But Da Jiang's book was made into a movie..."

As he spoke, he gave Jiang Tiantian a thumbs-up and laughed, "You wrote a good book, and the movie is even better. I didn't expect you to be a better screenwriter than a novelist."

In later generations, screenwriters were almost invisible, sometimes not even listed in the credits. But now, screenwriters are "important figures" second only to directors, appearing in the credits right after director Chen Fan.

As a film made by "one of their own," Zhang Xuansong and the other two must have all seen it.

As they were talking, Lin Yuanxiang and Li Shangde also came in, and they both praised Jiang Tiantian.

Jiang Tiantian blushed, glanced at Chen Fan, and said shyly, "Actually, Xiao Fan taught me how to write it. I've never written a script before."

Chen Fan winked at her and smiled, "What's yours is yours. If you don't have the ability, no one can teach you."

The implication is clear: the tuition wasn't wasted, was it, classmate?
Jiang Tiantian glared at him secretly, but didn't dare to say anything.

Chen Fan didn't tease her any further, and said to his three masters, "Seeing you all running around every day, you seem to have a bit more energy?"

Zhang Xuansong sat down opposite him and just then saw Ma Lan bringing over the heated food. He immediately said, "Add a few more pairs of chopsticks and bring a pot of old wine to quench our thirst."

Before he finished speaking, Lin Yuanxiang and Li Shangde also sat down.

Jiang Tiantian sat next to Chen Fan, mainly responsible for pouring drinks.

After the bowls and chopsticks were set out, Zhang Xuansong continued, "We can't stay indoors. We've been seeing fewer and fewer people every day, and it's making me anxious."

Chen Fan glanced at him and laughed, "Don't single me out. Let me ask you, weren't there fewer people burning incense in the first two months, and then more started coming back this month?"

Zhang Xuansong was stunned for a moment, then looked at him in surprise, "How did you know?"

Chen Fan raised his glass and clinked it with his, saying irritably, "With this blazing sun, how many people are willing to come to the Taoist temple to burn incense? Don't they all wait until it gets cooler before going out?"

Zhang Xuansong blinked rapidly, then turned to look at his two old buddies. "Is that...the reason?"

Lin Yuanxiang took a sip of wine and said, feigning sobriety, "I told you long ago, if you don't want to go out in this sweltering heat, who would come to burn incense? Anyway, it will cool down in the fall, so a few days later won't make a difference."

Li Shangde put down his wine glass, wiped his mouth, and said, "Exactly."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Xuansong was so angry that his neck straightened up. "Is this what you're saying? It was clearly you, Lao Lin, who suggested going to the park to find someone. Lao Li, you pretended to be blind—no, you're only half-blind—and you were telling fortunes in the park."

Chen Fan's eyes widened in disbelief. No, his master was usually so unassuming, how could he be so bold?
They dare to tell fortunes publicly now?
The three old men next to him were still arguing, each blaming the other, which made Chen Fan very happy, and he ate three big bowls of rice.

Finally, Zhang Xuansong, unable to fight off the overwhelming number of opponents, could only vent his anger on his apprentice, "You, what happened to the movie? I found so many martial arts masters for you, and it's been so long, and it's still not finished? How come you're filming your sister-in-law's movie so quickly?"

Jiang Tiantian was too embarrassed to look up after hearing this.

Chen Fan said matter-of-factly, "I've never made a movie before. In order to make your movie good, I definitely need to make one as practice first. Sweetie's movie was my practice movie. What, is that not allowed?"

Zhang Xuansong took a deep breath, blinked, and looked at Lao Lin and Lao Lin. He couldn't win the argument, so what should he do?
Despite numerous internal conflicts, they still needed to be united in their stance against external threats. Lin Yuanxiang immediately coughed and looked at Chen Fan, asking, "Is filming finished yet? If not, what are you doing in Beijing?"

Chen Fan swallowed the food in his mouth and said even more confidently, "It's the National Congress of Literary and Art Workers. The Fourth National Congress of Literary and Art Workers opens tomorrow and will last for half a month. The old political commissar has to attend this meeting, and I can't very well ask him for leave and not come, can I?!"

Upon hearing this, Lin Yuanxiang also wilted, picked up his wine glass and clinked it with Zhang Xuansong's, "Let's drink, let's drink."

Of course they knew that Chen was just using the old political commissar's name as a pretext; he wasn't qualified to do so.

Whether the literary and art congress is real or not is hard to say.

Li Shangde put down his chopsticks, glanced at the two of them disdainfully, then put on a smile and said to Chen Fan, "If you're in a meeting, do you still have time to come over and cook?"

Chen Fan immediately shook his head, "I can do it this afternoon, but after the meeting starts tomorrow morning, there will be special meetings to attend and discuss every day. I might have to work overtime tonight, so I really don't have time."

This isn't just him bragging; given his outstanding performance at last year's conference on rebuilding the Writers' Association, Zhou Yang and Mao Lao specifically requested that he attend, and he wasn't allowed to make excuses to decline.

Chen Fan could only say that they were really good at judging people, otherwise he really was planning to take leave and not come.

Upon hearing Chen Fan's words, Li Shangde replied without hesitation, "Alright, let's do it tonight. Let's buy some groceries and cook a meal at the old marshal's house."

You little punk, I bet I can teach you a lesson!
(End of this chapter)