1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 233 "Mr. Sanduo"

No. 15 Hufang Road.

"There aren't many things that need to be revised or added to the manuscript. I've already corrected the typos for you."

Wang Fu handed the manuscript of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" to Jiang Xian and placed it on the table. "There are still some places you need to look at. I have marked them out. There are 12 places in total. Please revise it as soon as possible and send it to me before the 23rd. We will try to publish it in the twelfth issue."

"People's Literature" is a monthly magazine, published on the 3rd of each month, and the twelfth issue corresponds to December 12rd.

It usually takes half a month to finalize, proofread, typeset, print and mail. Although the efficiency of proofreading and typesetting can be greatly improved by publishing only Jiang Xian's novel, Jiang Xian actually only has one or two days to revise the manuscript and write a creative talk.

Wang Fu told Jiang Xian the areas that needed to be modified.

Jiang Xian felt that some parts were indeed necessary, but in some other places he felt that they were unreasonable, like nitpicking and no need to make any changes.

Jiang Xian's manuscript editing skills are very high. It can be said that he has revised more articles than many writers in their entire lives. In addition, he has come into contact with famous editors of top magazines and has rich experience in manuscript editing. When he speaks about it now, he can be very organized. Wang Fu had to compromise.

But even so, Jiang Xian still had a lot of questions in his head.

His article "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" was the original manuscript published in "Harvest" that year.

For an article that Harvest was satisfied with, People's Literature actually found places that needed to be revised.

This really proves the saying: It’s never too late to revise an article.

Good articles are not written, but revised. - Mr. Lu Xun

There were 12 annotations, but Jiang Xian's efforts reduced them to 5. Wang Fu calculated that with Jiang Xian's talent and rich experience in manuscript revision, it would not be too much of a stretch to spend one or two days writing the creative talk and revising the manuscript.

"Then I'll go back first. Jiang Xian, please fix it for me as soon as possible." She stood up and said goodbye.

It was dark outside the window. It was already past seven o'clock. In Beijing in winter, the sun sets quickly, and it gets dark around 5 or 6 o'clock.

Jiang Xian took a sip of water, sat at the table, filled his pen with ink, and began to write quickly line by line on the manuscript. He poured all his frustrations of the past few days into the tip of his pen, and wrote with great pleasure.

It took him a while to come back to his senses.

At first they said they wouldn’t send it to him, but now they say they will send it to him.

First deny, then affirm.

Damn, I was CPUed by People's Literature?

"You want to hurry?"

"I'll show you what a quick shooter is! What a true man is in three seconds!"

Zhu Lin quietly poured a glass of water for Jiang Xian. She had no idea what Jiang Xian was humming while writing, but it looked quite cute.

Jiang Xian just buried his head in holding the pen, writing quickly line by line, almost without any punctuation, and his writing flowed swiftly, and he did not stop writing all night.

He hasn't been so diligent for a long time, and he really doesn't dare to procrastinate. "People's Literature" has to publish it in December despite the tight typesetting situation. How could he not understand this idea?

The current environment is full of uncertainties. If we fail to publish in time and it is delayed for another month, who can predict how many unexpected events will occur?

"Teacher Wang Fu!"

At No. 2 Shatan North Street, Wang Fugang had just parked his bicycle under the carport when he saw a figure wearing a military coat on the outside and a white windbreaker of the same style as Ken Takakura's on the inside.

"Jiang Xian? Why are you dressed like this?"

"I didn't sleep well, and I felt a little cold when I woke up in the morning, so I put on two more layers of clothes."

Jiang Xian yawned, took out a stack of manuscripts from his bag and handed it to Wang Fu.

"I have already revised the manuscript. Please take a look and see if there are any problems. Tell me and I will take it back and revise it."

"You fixed it so quickly?" Wang Fu was surprised.

This is not her first day as an editor. She has come into contact with so many authors over the years. For them, revising their manuscripts is even more difficult than writing them, and they take a very long time to revise.

It is normal to take three to four days, or seven to eight days to revise a manuscript of 10,000 to 20,000 words. How could Jiang Xian finish revising this 180,000-word novel in just one night?
This is certainly because there are few places that need to be revised, but a long novel is like a whole novel where one small change affects the entire body. If you change one part, you have to make it consistent with the whole article, and then you have to change more parts. It is definitely not a simple task like just modifying five paragraphs.

this speed
Wang Fuzheng was surprised when he heard Jiang Xian say something else.

"Teacher Wang Fu, I have finished writing the creative talk. Can you just give me a brief review?"

"Creation talk?!"

Wang Fu was really dumbfounded. The manuscript papers of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" were too messy. She took the stack into the office, put it on the table, and quickly found a few pages of green grid manuscript paper from Renwen Press from the scattered papers.

The manuscript for Renwen Press has 500 frames per page. Jiang Xian wrote about eight pages, and including the revisions and word additions and deletions, it was about words.

So Jiang Xian not only revised the manuscript, but also wrote a 4,000-word creative talk in one night? !

Wang Fu looked at her watch. It was only 7:30 in the morning. She remembered that when she left Jiang Xian's house, it was just getting dark, around 7 o'clock.

Let alone revising the manuscript, writing 4,000 words in 12 hours may not sound like a big deal, but this is not just writing new words; it is a writing job that requires mental activity.

How many authors would be ashamed to hear about this writing speed?
Wang Fu glanced at Jiang Xian. It looked like he could barely lift his arms, which was a common problem for authors who stayed up late to write a lot.

"We are in a hurry, but we can't be so hasty. Can your body handle it?"

"It's okay. I just stayed up late to revise a manuscript. I can make up for it by drinking two more glasses of tiger bone wine."

When Wang Fu heard his words, he immediately thought of Xu Sanguan written by Jiang Xian.

Every time Xu Sanguan finished selling blood, he would go to the Victory Restaurant and order fried pork liver and rice wine.

Pork liver can replenish blood, and rice wine can promote blood circulation.

Eating these is not to reward yourself, but to ensure a continuous supply of blood in the body in preparation for the next blood donation.

"Oh, now I understand why you wrote such an article." Wang Fu sighed.

She was moved by Jiang Xian's desperate efforts. He was really writing with his life. Wang Fu reminded herself silently that she must keep a close eye on him and not let anything go wrong before the novel was published.

Colleagues came to work one after another, carrying breakfast in their hands, breathing hot air, stamping their feet, and starting a day of dedication to Chinese literature.

Wang Fu first quickly read through the revised marked parts of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood". He was still not satisfied with some parts, but they were not serious problems, so he asked Jiang Xian to make some simple modifications.

He picked up the 4,000-word creative talk again and couldn't wait to look at the manuscript. He was really curious about what kind of creative talk Jiang Xian had written in such a short time.

The coal stove in the earthquake shelter had just been lit, and the editorial office was as cold as an ice cellar. Wang Fu flipped through the pages attentively, blowing hot air on his hands from time to time.

This is definitely an excellent creative talk. After Wang Fu finished reading "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" and listened to Jiang Xian talking about his state of mind when he created the book, he was really excited.

This is what a good creative talk is like, it can accurately scratch the reader's itch.

Wang Fu has always been curious about the sentence at the end of the novel "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood": "Dick hair grows later than eyebrows, but grows longer than eyebrows."

What does this vulgar but witty saying mean?
Jiang Xian answered honestly: "The meaning is very simple:

"When I was young, you were still sleeping in your father's crotch, and now you are teaching me a lesson?"

This is probably just a useless complaint from the grassroots people in the face of power.”

Wang Fu couldn't help but shout "beautiful".

Jiang Xian not only tickled the readers' curiosity and explained the profound meaning of the ending of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood", but also used this opportunity to complain about the difficulties he had suffered these days.

A scholar kills people without shedding blood and scolds people without leaving any dirt.

From Jiang Xian's words, those with discerning eyes could probably see that he was cursing someone.

But did you say he cursed?
No.

Didn’t you curse?
Cursed.

Wang Fu probably didn’t understand that in later generations, this was a state of being “like a scolding.”

This sentence was later used by Mo Yan to make fun of it. If one were to write an epitaph for Yu Hua, he would have to write this sentence:
"Dick hair grows later than eyebrows, but grows longer than eyebrows." How domineering!

Seeing that Jiang Xian was still holding the pen and concentrating on revising the manuscript, Wang Fu did not disturb him for fear of affecting his train of thought. He stood up and showed the creative talk to Cui Daoyi.

"He revised the manuscript in one night and wrote this creative talk."

"One night?"

Cui Daoyi was startled and glanced at the manuscript. The handwriting was round and neat. He read it more seriously than Wang Fu and almost stuck his eyes into the manuscript.

The first sentence Jiang Xian wrote made his blood boil:

Dedicated to all the nameless people who stand tall and proud yet are ordinary and common.

Cui Daoyi held the manuscript and took a deep breath.

This is the author Jiang Xian personally revealing the profound meaning of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood": In the adult world, no one lives for himself.

Cui Daoyi really likes the novel "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood". People are used to praising heroes, but no one has ever said that the neglected ordinary people themselves are the heroes of life.

After reading the entire creative talk, he gently put the manuscript back on the table. Thinking that this was the creative talk written by Jiang Xian after he had spent the whole night and even revised the manuscript, he couldn't help but sigh.

"Writers like Jiang Xian are truly 'quick-witted and ready to go'."

"Comrade Daoyi, if he writes like this, nothing will happen again, right?" Wang Fu was more worried about this.

Cui Daoyi thought for a moment and said, "That person probably doesn't dare to make any more moves. I heard from Elder Guang that it was Lord Xia who spoke for Jiang Xian this time."

"Mr. Xia?"

The fragmented information in Wang Fu's head was pieced together, and he had a vague guess, but he was not sure.

"Will Mr. Xia's words work in front of He Jingzhi?"

Cui Daoyi made a gesture to keep quiet and whispered, "It was that comrade who said something after hearing someone talk about Jiang Xian's "Bronze Coin Street."

"That comrade?"

Wang Fu's eyes widened unconsciously, and his breathing became rapid. "What did you say?"

"Isn't it just a Gauguin? Just let him write it." Wang Fu revealed to Jiang Xian excitedly.

Jiang Xian was quite surprised.

He never imagined that the reason for the sudden change in the situation was actually because this comrade said this for him.

It is no wonder that this comrade could recognize it as Gauguin.

"The Moon and Sixpence" is indeed about the life experience of the French painter Gauguin. Even if Jiang Xian localizes it, it is difficult to erase the Gauguin touch from the story.

As we all know, he studied in France in 1920 and worked part-time in Paris. His thoughts and ideas were deeply influenced by France, and he loved croissants the most.

No one paid attention to Gauguin during his lifetime, but after his death in 1903, he became famous in France.

That all fits in.

Thinking back to before going to Tokyo, Ba Jin once talked about his "Bronze Coin Street" and the Water-Splashing Festival mural at the Capital Airport, saying that his article and Mr. Yuan's painting were both iconic milestones of reform and opening up.

Jiang Xian thought it was just a joke at the time.

Now with this comrade's words, it seems that he will be forced to live up to the title of this milestone of reform and opening up.

"Zhen Kai?"

"Jiang Xian."

Returning to No. 15 Hufang Road, Jiang Xian saw Zhao Zhenkai wandering downstairs, his iconic bitter face full of worry.

He opened his lips twice, Jiang Xian knew what he wanted to say and patted his shoulder.

"I heard you. Come upstairs."

In October this year, Today magazine was forced to cease publication, and the once prosperous Misty Poetry School came to nothing.

In order to save itself, "Today" published "An Open Letter to People from All Walks of Life in the Capital".

Zhao Zhenkai made many efforts to resume publication of Today magazine, but to no avail. Instead, he was severely criticized by the cultural community.

Jiang Xian brought him a chair and looked at him, "Would you like some water or some wine?"

"Let's have a drink." Zhao Zhenkai forced a smile.

"I have foreign liquor, tiger bone liquor, and Erguotou. Which one should we drink?"

"I only drink Erguotou. I'm not used to other drinks."

The two of them poured themselves a few glasses of wine, and Zhao Zhenkai let out a long sigh, "I'm done with Jiang He."

Jiang Xian was not surprised, because Jiang He was Yu Youze. The two had always had different ideas, and now the conflict had completely erupted.

Zhao Zhenkai continued to talk, "I broke up with Ai Qing. He said, 'Don't forget, you ate at our house.' I just gave him the food coupons."

“They don’t understand art. I read your article ‘Copper Coin Street’ and it was so shocking.

They say Li Lande is crazy and stupid, but what is not crazy or stupid? Like most of you and me, following the path required by society, going to school, falling in love, working, getting married, having children, raising a family, and moving forward continuously until the end of life?

"There are a thousand Hamlets among a thousand readers," Jiang Xian said with a smile.

Zhao Zhenkai picked up the cup and took a sip. "After reading your article, I wrote a poem called "Life". The whole poem has only one word:
--net."

Jiang Xian hesitated for a moment, "Are you here to ask me to write an open letter for you?"

Many writers in the cultural circle have spoken out for Today, such as Professor Xie Mian of Yenching University, who was immediately warned by Zang Kejia.

"Your article 'Tongqian Street' is the best way to express your opinion!" Zhao Zhenkai said, taking out a manuscript from his bag. "I heard that you are an editorial board member of 'Beijing Literature'. I have a short story called 'The Moon on the Manuscript Paper'. Do you think it can be published?"

Jiang Xian took it and roughly read it. It should have been written last year and was written in a stream-of-consciousness style.

[The pen slid down between his fingers and poked at the upper right corner of the manuscript paper, splashing a large drop of ink.

I drew a crescent moon.]
Zhao Zhenkai is famous for his poetry, but he is also quite good at writing essays and short stories.

"You sent me the manuscript yourself."

Zhao Zhenkai smiled and said, "It costs money to resume publication of Today. I'm afraid no one dares to publish my articles now."

Jiang Xian thought for a moment and said, "You should have quite a few articles. Send them all to me and I'll see if I can pick a few to send out."

Zhao Zhenkai was stunned, and looked at him with emotion, "So righteous!"

"It's too formal. Let's drink."

Zhao Zhenkai lowered his head and smiled, took a sip, and said with a smile: "Do you know that people in the circle have given you a nickname recently?"

"Nickname?"

Jiang Xian didn't know what to say: "What nickname?"

"Mr. Sando."

Zhao Zhenkai explained slowly: "A lot of articles, a lot of houses, and a lot of friends."

"."

Jiang Xian looked embarrassed.

What a nickname, so ugly, it's worse than a husband who has been washed three times.

I will also celebrate the next festival
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(End of this chapter)