Rebirth 2004: A lone figure in the literary world

Chapter 104 You are the hope of Chinese literature for the next twenty years
On January 2005, 1, at 1:8 in the morning, the alarm clock rang on time.

Zhang Chao got up yawning, went to the kitchen to cook noodles, and specially cracked two eggs into the pot - since it was New Year's Day, he might as well eat an extra egg to celebrate.

Zhang Chao was too lazy to guess what Xiao Songjia was thinking last night. After the New Year's Eve, he drove her back to Tiantongyuan. When he drove home, it was already past 1 o'clock.

Zhang Chao now feels that he has no choice. He originally just wanted to be a pure writer, but now he has to run a company. Although he has to do it, it still makes his chores more complicated.

The reason why he wanted Ma Boyong to come was that he wanted him to cooperate with Huang Jiefu so that he could free himself from these chores. He even wanted to let the prince write the subsequent script of "The Long Song".

But the hope of others coming is really not great.

To be honest, Zhang Chao didn't feel any difference between today and yesterday, but the New Year's Day holiday was three days, and he didn't think of staying at home all the time. It was his plan to relax after finishing "Dwelling Narrowness". Although he had taken on another script job, there was no need to rush these few days.

Besides, Zhang Chao has more important things to do today - visit the teachers.

Speaking of Zhang Chao's coming to Yenching to study, several teachers from Yenching University, Yenching Normal University, and Luyuan made great efforts. Qian Liqun, Yu Hua, Cao Wenxuan, Kong Qingdong, Zou Guangming... I have been enrolled for half a year, but I have not thanked them properly.

So at 9 o'clock in the morning, he called several teachers one by one and told them that he would go to visit them. Except for Yu Hua and Zou Guangming who were not in Yanjing, the other teachers happily agreed.

In preparation for this visit, Zhang Chao had asked his family to send him a lot of Fuhai's specialties - tea, dried persimmons, and dried plums. He also bought a few bottles of good wine.

The first place they went to was Kong Qingdong's home. Kong Qingdong still lives in the teacher's apartment assigned to him by Yanda, so Zhang Chao didn't need to drive, he could just walk there with his stuff. To see the "Yanda Drunkard", one must bring good wine - Zhang Chao brought two bottles of Wuliangye in addition to local specialties.

The person who opened the door was Kong Qingdong's wife, Ms. Wang Weihua. When she saw Zhang Chao coming with the wine, she grinned and said, "You've been fooled by him."

Seeing Zhang Chao's confused look, Wang Weihua explained: "Old Kong actually doesn't drink much. He can't drink much. His nickname 'Yan Da Zui Xia' is a fraud."

Kong Qingdong also came out upon hearing this, laughed and said, "This is what is called 'Although I cannot reach it, my heart yearns for it'." Then he led Zhang Chao to the living room to sit down.

Zhang Chao also smiled and said, "It's okay if you don't drink it. Master's wife can use this wine to cook. It can enhance the flavor and remove the fishy smell, and it's especially suitable for cooking seafood."

Kong Qingdong saw that Zhang Chao was carrying other things, and hurriedly said, "It's enough for you to come, why do you bring so many things?"

Zhang Chao said, "These are some local specialties from home, not worth much, let's give them to the teacher and his wife to try something new."

Wang Weihua made tea for Zhang Chao and served him some fruit. Kong Qingdong chatted with Zhang Chao for a while and then asked, "Are you going to Professor Qian's place?"

Zhang Chao nodded and said, "We'll go directly from your place to his place later. I've already made an appointment over the phone."

Kong Qingdong said, "That's perfect. I'm going to visit him too. It's better to go today than to wait for another day. I'll go with you."

Zhang Chao said, "Okay. Why don't we go now? I'll go drive the car, and you wait at home."

Kong Qingdong smiled and said, "I heard that you bought a German BMW. Today, Monk Kong will try some foreign food."

Soon, Zhang Chao drove to the downstairs of Kong Qingdong's building, picked him up and set off. Kong Qingdong brought a few books for Qian Liqun, one of which was thread-bound. This was a gift that only very familiar teachers and students would give each other.

Professor Qian Liqun lives in Danfengyuan in Xisanqi. This is a residential area that was completed in 2003. All the buildings are 4-5 storeys in French style. The greening rate is high, just like a garden, and the environment is quiet. Professor Qian and his wife have just moved in.

After knocking on the door, it was Professor Qian who opened it. He was very happy to see Kong Qingdong and Zhang Chao coming together, and quickly let them into the house.

When Zhang Chao and Kong Qingdong arrived at the living room, they found that there was already a visitor in Professor Qian's house. The man was tall and thin, wearing glasses and had a hearty smile on his face.

Who else could this be but the veteran writer Wang Meng?
Kong Qingdong obviously knew Wang Meng, and he quickly stepped forward to shake his hand and said, "Teacher Wang, Happy New Year!"

Wang Meng also said: "Happy New Year!"

Zhang Chao also hurriedly extended his hand, and Wang Meng did not act pretentiously. She shook hands with Zhang Chao vigorously and said, "Last time at the Zhuangzhong Literature Award, I wanted to talk to you, but you slipped away early."

Zhang Chao said embarrassedly: "I have classes the next day, so I want to go back and rest early."

Wang Meng laughed and said, "I'm afraid he dislikes us old men and women."

Before Zhang Chao could explain further, Wang Meng continued, "Don't even mention you. I hate it too! When there are too many elderly people in a place, the atmosphere becomes abnormal."

At this time, Professor Qian also walked by. He said to Wang Meng, "You also know this, right? Let me tell you, your Writers Association is now in a state of decay. Without any new blood, it will sooner or later become lifeless."

Several people sat down in the living room. Wang Meng asked Zhang Chao what he was writing recently, and Zhang Chao replied: "I just finished writing a long novel, which should be officially published after the Spring Festival. Recently, I am helping my classmates in the Yanda Drama Club write a play."

Wang Meng asked with great interest: "The novel is "Dwelling Narrowness", right? When I went to Luyuan to teach the advanced research class, your classmates mentioned it to me and said it was very well written. What is the drama about?"

Zhang Chao briefly described the content of "Wotou Guild Hall". Professor Qian Liqun asked curiously, "This is a play with a strong Beijing flavor. Can you, a southerner, write it?"

Without waiting for Zhang Chao to answer, Wang Meng took over the conversation and said, "Do you have to be from Yanjing to write Yanjing dramas? You who are into theory are old-fashioned! We who write novels are best at learning, absorbing and applying... When you write about people from a certain place, it should be like the people from that place - but Zhang Chao, you can show me your work after you finish it."

Wang Meng was born in old Beijing. When the country was liberated, he had already started working, and his work was underground. So he was particularly interested in Zhang Chao's play, and wanted to see how this young man from the south could write this northern play.

Zhang Chao quickly agreed: "It would be even better with your guidance."

Kong Qingdong said: "Zhang Chao, you are really good. Your creation has attracted so much attention from Teacher Wang that he even knows what you are writing."

Professor Qian said bluntly: "This old man always says that Zhang Chao looks like him!"

Wang Meng did not blush at all, but said proudly: "Zhang Chao became famous at the age of 19 and wrote novels; I also became famous at the age of 19 and wrote novels. One was born in 2004 and the other in 1954, half a century apart. Of course he is like me. If not like me, how could he be like you, hiding in the mountains of Guizhou for years..."

Qian Liqun said angrily: "Should I hide then..."

Zhang Chao could only sit there and smile foolishly, feeling that something was wrong. After thinking for a long time, four words suddenly flashed through his mind: "deeply resembles me"...

The two old men argued for a long time before Wang Meng interrupted and asked Zhang Chao, "Do you know how many times we mentioned you during meetings in the Writers Association?"

Zhang Chao shook his head.

Wang Meng said: "Let me count - you knocked down the 'New Concept Essay Contest' once, studied whether to recruit you to the Luyuan Advanced Research Class once, you got rid of the 'acne' metaphor at the Shanghai Book Fair once, and the recent Zhuangzhong Literature Award is another one.

There has never been a 20-year-old writer who has been talked about so many times by middle-aged and elderly people like us. "

Zhang Chao said: "I have achieved so little, how can I be worthy of it..."

Wang Meng said: "Don't be too happy too soon, not all of them are praising you. Many people say you are just trying to attract attention."

This sentence made Zhang Chao hold back his humble words.

Wang Meng continued: “But after discussing it over and over again, we generally still think you are a good kid. Our literary world has been silent for too long - it is a pity that all the horses are silent.

In fact, there were several young people before you, but at that time, we middle-aged and elderly people did not pay any attention to or help their growth except for saying a few nice words when interviewed by reporters.

Vice Chairman Tie Ning once said that our association is responsible for their development. In the future, they will point fingers at us and scold us! "

Zhang Chao couldn't help but think of Han Han. After the veteran writer Bai Ye commented that he was "still far from the literary world", he blurted out the classic saying: "Every altar is an altar in the end, and every circle is a wreath in the end."

Professor Qian said, "And having only a few young people is not enough. Since the New Culture Movement, have we had an era like the 90s to early 2000s, when there were almost no new stars who could illuminate the entire literary world. The active ones were almost all old writers who had been famous for at least ten or twenty years."

Kong Qingdong said: "This is also related to the development of social economy. The 90s... were indeed very special."

Wang Meng said: "Whatever the reason, there is no such thing. The literary world and our writers' association are too small-scale. Since the literary boom in the 80s, no one has come to break this barrier.

Our literary magazines are the same. Many of them now only accept submissions from familiar authors. If newcomers want to stand out, they have to write much better than the old authors. If the standards were the same, I would not have been able to stand out, and neither would Liu Xinwu and others.

Some writers even published several or even dozens of works of various types, which caused quite a stir, but we still turned a blind eye to them. For example, Wang Xiaobo never touched the edge of the so-called "literary world" until his death.

His novels are so well written, so many young people like them, but those of us in the "literary world" still avoid talking about them, as if this dead man would argue with us about anything. "

After hearing these words, everyone present fell silent.

He turned to Zhang Chao and said, "Zhang Chao, you should write more, write as much as you can, write boldly, and don't worry about those rules and regulations. You should create a path for young writers in the domestic literary world in the next 20 years, light the torch for them, and let them know that there is hope if they settle down and write. Literature will not let you down.

Don’t you like to be like a great teacher? Then I will give you a sentence from a great teacher: don’t wait for the torch, if there is no torch in the future, I will be the only light. "

(End of this chapter)