Entertainment: 1990

Chapter 9 Going to Tianjin
Two days later, in the morning, at the Hengjiang City Long-Distance Bus Station.

Sun Xiaohong reluctantly handed her luggage to her son, then couldn't help but suggest, "Why don't I come with you..."

"Are you never going to stop?!"

Zhang Xingguo tugged at his wife and scolded her, "You've never been far from home before. If we go to Tianjin, will you be taking care of him, or will he be taking care of you?"

Sun Xiaohong pouted: "Then why don't you come along?"

Zhang Xingguo didn't say anything, but just glanced at his son. It was obvious that as long as Zhang Yan nodded, he would immediately go and buy the ticket.

"Don't worry."

These days, taking a long-distance bus is an ordeal, and Zhang Yan didn't want his parents to suffer with him: "I'm already so old, and there will be someone to pick me up when I get to Tianjin, so I don't have to worry about food, clothing, or lodging."

Then, half-jokingly, he added, "Dad, you'd better keep a close eye on my mom at home. Don't let her sell me to those matchmakers."

Because the phone number of the daily newspaper was left on the submission letter, the news that Popular Fiction Newspaper was trying its best to invite Zhang Yan to Tianjin could not be kept secret at all.

This time, it wasn't just the gossipy aunts and uncles who came to visit; several groups of matchmakers also came, each one exaggerating their virtues, which annoyed Zhang Yan to no end.

"Go aside."

Zhang Xingguo glared at him, then immediately added, "Don't try to be a hero if you encounter any trouble on the road. You won't have to worry about food and drink once you get there, so just let go of what you have."

These days, highway robbers and bandits are rampant, otherwise the couple wouldn't be so worried.

"Don't worry, your son isn't short of money."

Zhang Yan waved his hand and said, "I'm leaving. You two can wait for news of my victory."

With that, he turned and boarded the old long-distance bus.

Sun Xiaohong gave her husband a few more instructions through the window before leaving, turning back to look at him every few steps.

Zhang Yan was, after all, a young man. After seeing his parents off, the slight sadness of parting immediately turned into longing and hope for the vast world.

But this hope didn't last long, as it was crushed to pieces by the train carriages that were gradually filled up.

Among the passengers, there weren't many like him who only carried some changes of clothes and daily necessities. They were either doing business or visiting relatives, carrying a lot of large and small bundles, and some even carried live chickens and ducks.

By the time the train was about to depart, there was barely enough room to stand, and the various smells were so strong that they made one's scalp tingle.

In this way, several groups of people got on along the way, and even a group of people sat on the engine hood.

Once we left the city, the roads were full of potholes and the car swayed and rocked. It felt like being trapped in a garlic jar and being pounded hard with a mortar and pestle.

Motion sickness medication wasn't common back then, so Zhang Yan could only apply some Tiger Balm to his forehead and under his nose, using one stimulus to counteract another.

Fortunately, although the journey was tough, at least we didn't encounter any highway robbers.

More than five hours later.

When Zhang Yan finally set foot on the land of Tianjin West Railway Station, he felt dizzy and lightheaded. His stomach felt like it was split in two, with the upper part gurgling with acid and the lower part rumbling with hunger.

He composed himself and saw a man not much older than himself not far away, holding up a sign that read 'Zhang Yan' and craning his neck to look at the car.

It wasn't until Zhang Yan walked over that the person belatedly looked at him, asking with a hint of disbelief, "Are you Zhang Yan, the author of 'The Great Detective of the Dream of the Red Chamber'?"

Zhang Yan shrugged and said, "It's genuine."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

The man quickly put down the sign, extended his hand, and introduced himself: "I am Wang Zhongqi, the editor of Popular Fiction Newspaper. Judging from the style of your works, I originally thought you would be an older, more experienced author."

"is it?"

Zhang Yan felt a slight chill, but feigned curiosity and asked, "From what perspective did you deduce that?"

"Well, mainly in terms of writing techniques."

Wang Zhongqi explained, "Young authors tend to be more self-centered and less attentive to the reader's feelings. While your writing has a strong personal touch, you have always paid attention to the reader's perspective, even surpassing many veteran authors in this regard." I see.

Online articles need to directly address readers' praise and criticism, so they naturally pay more attention to readers' feelings and feedback.

Zhang Yan lowered his guard and casually made up a story: "My dad is also an editor. I grew up in a newspaper office. I probably know a lot of articles by heart because I'm used to them."

"I see."

Wang Zhongqi pretended to realize something, and then enthusiastically led Zhang Yan out of the long-distance bus station and onto a bus heading to HX District—in those days, magazines didn't have dedicated cars, and even if they did, they weren't cars that Wang Zhongqi could use.

Because it was right next to the long-distance bus station, the bus was packed with people and there were no empty seats at all. The two of them could only stand while holding onto the poles. Fortunately, the smell wasn't so bad.

Wang Zhongqi apologized repeatedly, saying that things would be fine once they arrived at the magazine office. He had already booked a hotel for Zhang Yan nearby, and the editorial department would reimburse his food and lodging expenses.

Zhang Yan shook his head and said, "Editor Wang, you don't need to be so polite. These conditions are already much better than what we received on the way here."

"Haha~"

Wang Zhongqi laughed heartily: "I can tell from your articles that you are a magnanimous person, especially the passage about 'freedom' in the book, which I particularly like."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Yan shook his head and said, "Actually, there's another sentence at the end, but I haven't written it into the book yet."

"Is there another line? Would you mind giving me a sneak peek?"

Wang Zhongqi genuinely liked this passage because he felt constrained in the editorial department and naturally longed to break free from those constraints one day.

"The next word is: 'cage.' Although it is open on all sides, even with the strength of the bull dragon, it cannot break free from the shackles on its head."

"Uh~"

This sentence stumped Wang Zhongqi, and after a long while he said helplessly, "I never expected that the first half of the sentence would be so romantic, but the second half would become such a bloody fact."

Then he praised her, saying, "Your writing is truly superb; you can come up with sentences like this so easily."

Zhang Yan smiled but didn't say anything. He was actually a little uneasy, after all, he knew his own family best, and these golden quotes were all copied from his dreams.

But in Wang Zhongqi's eyes, this was seen as the demeanor of a humble and magnanimous person, which made him even more determined to befriend Zhang Yan.

An editor's status often depends on the author's status. If he can get along well with Zhang Yan, Wang Zhongqi will definitely rise in status once his novel becomes popular, and might even be able to escape his current awkward situation.

The two got off the bus near People's Park and immediately heard a heart-wrenching song, which sounded like a song by Cui Jian.

Wang Zhongqi explained somewhat awkwardly, "It's all because of that rock concert at the beginning of the year. Now a lot of people in Tianjin are following suit and forming a bunch of rock bands."

Remembering the playlist in his dream, Zhang Yan quickly asked, "Are there any famous singers or singers who are particularly good on this list?"

"Famous..."

Wang Zhongqi recalled the original report and counted on his fingers: "If we're talking about the most famous ones, they must be the six bands that performed on stage back then, namely Breathing Band, Tang Dynasty Band, Cobra Band, Baby Brothers Band, 198X Band, and ADO Band."

After hearing these names, Zhang Yan was secretly disappointed because none of them were on the playlist.

Of course, this does not mean that these bands will not become famous in the future. After all, that playlist was just the personal preference of a middle-aged author, and there were only a little over two hundred songs in total. It was impossible for it to be all-encompassing.

Zhang Yan, still somewhat unwilling to give up, pressed on, "Are there any others?"

"This……"

Wang Zhongqi initially looked hesitant, but then said, "How about I ask around for you later to see if there are any other well-known ones?"

"No, no, no!"

Zhang Yan quickly stopped him, saying, "I was just asking casually; there's no need to make a special trip to find out."

Although he refused, Wang Zhongqi kept it in mind. After all, judging from Zhang Yan's repeated questioning earlier, he must be interested in rock music.

As expected, no matter how sophisticated his writing style is, he is still just a young man in his early twenties.

(End of this chapter)