My era, 1979!

Chapter 134 Preface and Lectures by Famous Figures Who Became Rich (Preface in a separate chapter)
Xu Chengjun opened Lü Shu's diary. The pages were yellowed, the edges were curled like waves, and some pages were even stained with mud.

One page reads: "On June 12, 1977, I dropped my sickle while harvesting wheat. The team leader said, 'Wheat can be helped up if it falls, but people have to get up on their own if they fall.' Today I wrote a poem called 'Wheat Awn,' and I wanted to include the team leader's words in it."

Xu Chengjun pointed to this sentence, looked up and asked, "How do you think literature should write about 'suffering'? For example, if you wrote a poem about the incident of you throwing your sickle, would you focus on the pain caused by the event, or on the captain's words?"

Lu Shu paused for a moment, then clenched his fist: "I want to write the team leader's words! The pain is temporary, but I still remember the phrase 'you have to climb on your own.' Just like your book 'The Granary,' it didn't describe how hard the educated youth suffered, it only described Lao Shuan counting grain coupons, but I was very moved when I read it."

These words caused a half-second silence in the classroom.

Just as Zhou Haibo was about to speak, the classroom door was pushed open again, and a boy wearing a military-style jacket walked in. It was Zhang Lei from the Physics Department, holding several pages of manuscript paper with many mechanical drawings on them.

"Sorry I'm late,"

He put the manuscript paper on the table. "I wrote a novel about military industry called 'Machine Tool,' which tells the story of my grandfather working in an arsenal. He said that when he was building machine tools in 1958, he didn't sleep for three days and three nights, just to make the first one before National Day."

Li Jihai returned carrying porridge and paused upon hearing the words "arsenal".

He was a member of the "Old Three Classes" of educated youth who had worked as a temporary worker in a military factory during his time in the countryside, so he understood this feeling best.

Is your grandfather still at the factory?

Li Jihai distributed the porridge to everyone, the enamel mugs clinking together crisply. "Back in the days at the Northeast Arsenal," he said, "I remember seeing an old master craftsman file a part until midnight."

Zhang Lei's eyes lit up: "Yes! He still deals with machine tools! I wrote this novel to let more people know that those machine tools are not just lumps of iron, but the lifeblood of the older generation."

Xu Chengjun took the manuscript and saw a sentence in it: "The machine tool gears have been turning for fifty years, and Grandpa's hands have developed calluses, but he said, 'As long as the gears keep turning, the country will not stop.'"

When Xu Chengjun looked up, he met Su Manshu's gaze.

She had just come in from outside, carrying a thermos flask. She had gone to the cafeteria specifically to get hot water. Seeing Zhang Lei talking excitedly, she quietly poured the hot water into an enamel mug and handed it to him.

The next interview was attended by a girl with braided pigtails, Xu Qian from the Foreign Languages ​​Department, who was holding a copy of "Foreign Literature Trends" with a poem by Neruda that she had translated herself.

"I want to join the literary society,"

She placed the translated manuscript on the table, very confidently, "I think we can't just write about Chinese things; we should also look at foreign poetry—like Neruda's 'Love is too short, forgetting is too long.'"

Hu Zhi frowned: "Our literary society's mission is to 'record the Chinese tide,' so wouldn't translating foreign poetry be a mistake?"

Xu Qian was about to retort when Xu Chengjun spoke first: "That's not biased. The wave of 1979 included broadening horizons. If you could combine your translation of Neruda with our lives and write your own, for example, changing 'love' to 'nostalgia,' it might be even more interesting."

He picked up a red pencil and underlined a sentence on the translation: "'You are like my soul, a butterfly of dreams,' but if it were written as 'You are like my hometown, a snow-covered wheat field,' wouldn't that be more in line with our lives?"

Xu Lu's eyes lit up instantly, and she quickly pulled out her pen to write it down: "That's right! How come I didn't think of that! When I was sent to the countryside last year, the snow falling on the wheat field looked just like this!"

The most interesting part was the afternoon interview.

Chen Jun, a third-year Chinese literature major, suddenly burst in, clutching a copy of "Shanghai Literature" containing his newly published short stories.

"I'm not here for an interview,"

He slammed the magazine on the table. "I just want to ask, does your 'Wave Society' even understand literature? You keep shouting 'write earthy' stuff, do you look down on scar literature?"

Zhou Haibo immediately exploded, rolling up his sleeves to argue, but Xu Chengjun held him back.

Comrade Chen Jun,

His eyes were serious. "In 1976, I was in Xujiatun. I only had 30 jin of grain a month and drank thin porridge every meal. But the team leader's son would give me the sweet potatoes he had saved. This is not 'rustic'; it is the life of millions of people before 1979."

He paused: "Your writings on the wounds of the past are about pain; but what we write is about how to get back up after the pain. Just like these food coupons, they can be exchanged for food, and they can also be exchanged for people's hearts—that's what the tide means."

Chen Jianjun stared at the three grain coupons, his face turning bright red. He remained silent for a long time before finally grabbing the magazine and walking away dejectedly.

The fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafted into the classroom, and Xu Qian whispered, "Senior Xu, what you said is so true. I used to think that foreign poetry was superior, but now I realize that our grain coupons and sweet potatoes are the best materials."

As the sun set, the interview finally came to an end.

Xu Chengjun and the others sat in the classroom, clutching the admission list in their hands.

Xu Demin, Lü Shu, Zhang Lei, Xu Lu, and more than twenty other students like them, carrying their stories and pens.

Lin Yimin pinned the list to the blackboard and drew a small wave pattern next to each name in red chalk.

Zhou Haibo, holding a mimeograph machine, said he would print the admission notices overnight.

Li Jihai shared the remaining wheat cakes with everyone, filling the room with the aroma of wheat as they chewed.

Su Manshu helped tidy up the table. When she touched Xu Chengjun's hand, she whispered, "I told my dad about your interview today. He said, 'This kid understands literature, and he understands life even better.'"

Xu Chengjun laughed. Why would Lao Su say that?

He had to say: This bastard is causing trouble again!

He picked up the inkstone on the table and dripped a drop of hot water onto the ink stick.

Tomorrow I will write admission notices for the students who have been accepted. I will use the inkstone that my teacher gave me to write the most solid characters.

Why use an inkstone?

Because he believes:
Great Chinese literary works will inevitably be created by combining classical Chinese with vernacular Chinese to form classical and vernacular sentences, and by integrating Western creative systems.

He didn't know what it would be called in the future.

However, it will definitely be a movement to adapt ancient texts to modern use, a kind of classical Chinese movement.
-
In the blink of an eye, a month has passed.

Xu Chengjun was so busy that he didn't even notice the passage of time.

It wasn't until three days ago, when Xu Chengjun received an email from Qingming magazine, that he was suddenly pulled out of his "busy" and "time flies" state of deep concentration.

The email contained a royalty statement, a sample copy of the magazine, and a greeting letter.

The royalty statement remains clear and concise; the only difference from before is the numbers.

More than 300,000 words, eight yuan per thousand words.

The nearly three thousand yuan in royalties made Xu Chengjun an instant millionaire!
He opened the sample copy of the inaugural issue of "Qingming" with great anticipation.

Xu Chengjun's first reaction was—

His poem "Red Silk" made the headlines!
The headline of the inaugural issue of "Qingming"!
The cover features the title "Qingming" in bold at the top, with "Inaugural Issue 1979" below.

The title of the novel, "The Unbreakable Red Silk," is printed in bold Wei stele script in the center.

The bottom right corner features a line of small print that reads: "Dedicated to the warriors who fought for the peace of our motherland," in red font, echoing the imagery of red silk.

For a moment, he even had a feeling of "Mom, I've made something of myself!"

Of course, the surprises didn't stop there.

The sample magazine cover adopts a "hand-drawn + realistic" style, highlighting a solemn yet warm tone, avoiding excessive depiction of the cruelty of war, and emphasizing the dual expression of heroic spirit and the expectation of peace.

The left side of the sample magazine cover features a half-length portrait of a soldier.

The prototype of Huang Siyuan is depicted with his military cap brim pulled down slightly, his left shoulder stained with gunpowder smoke, and his right hand clutching half a red silk ribbon, one end of which flutters to the right, with the embroidered characters "Spring Swallow" faintly visible on it.

On the right side, three small objects are drawn in the style of line drawing: an enamel mug, an unfinished wooden comb, and a light purple orchid. The three are connected by a red ribbon, forming a visual loop of war memories and peace hopes.

The magazine's appendix includes "Author's Notes on the Creative Process" and "Reader's Letters Preview," in line with the publishing tradition of literary interaction established in 1979.

The author's notes were written by Xu Chengjun in advance.

The title is "Why Red Silk Cannot Be Torn – My Creative Reflections," and the content revolves around "why 'red silk' was chosen as the core image" and "how to balance the cruelty of war with the warmth of humanity."

The preview of the reader's letter is titled "To Readers: A Discussion on 'Heroes and Humanity'", and states that "this journal will launch a column called 'Reflections on Reading 'The Unbreakable Red Silk'. We welcome letters from frontline soldiers, Third Front construction workers, and ordinary readers to share your stories and thoughts. Outstanding submissions will be published in the next issue."

The magazine's address and postal code are provided below to encourage reader participation.

in fact,

Historically, the lead article in the inaugural issue of "Qingming" was Lu Yanzhou's "The Legend of Tianyun Mountain".

"The Legend of Tianyun Mountain" is the first literary work after the annihilation of the Communist Party of China to critically reflect on the entire historical process after the expansion of the Cultural Revolution. It is one of the representative works of reflective literature in the new era of contemporary literature.

The novel caused a sensation after its publication and won the first prize for novella awarded by the China Writers Association that year.

But now, all Xu Chengjun can say to Teacher Lu is sorry!
Unbeknownst to him, the original headline was still "The Legend of Tianyun Mountain." It was only after Lu Yanzhou learned that "Red Silk" had been published in "Qingming" that he personally went to the provincial writers' association to explain the situation. He stated frankly: "Red Silk" has groundbreaking significance in the development of contemporary Chinese literature; its innovative narrative technique is even more valuable than its content. What we lack is precisely this kind of narrative! Furthermore, with the war still raging on the front lines, "Red Silk," as a war-themed novel, has an even more inspiring effect.

Chairman Chen readily accepted the suggestion.

After accepting the suggestion, he actually found Mr. Mao and asked him to write a preface for "Red Silk".

In fact, in most cases, magazine novels do not invite famous writers to write prefaces, mainly due to the magazine's "timeliness" and "length limitations" as well as the novel's own need for "independence".

However, there are a few exceptions among magazine novels.

For example, the opening chapter of a "major long serial" and the core works in a "special feature" or "commemorative special issue".

"Red Silk" fits all of these perfectly.

What was presented to Xu Chengjun was something that made his blood boil—the words "Preface by Mao Dun" were written in small regular script below the title on the sample magazine cover.

As can be seen in the preface:

Looking at modern military literature, it's not that past works were unworthy of consideration—there are indeed excellent pieces depicting the grandeur of the battlefield and praising heroic spirit. However, they may have been confined to the clichés of "heroic narratives": emphasizing the depiction of smoke-filled scenes while neglecting the deep exploration of human nature; indulging in grand pronouncements of "defending the homeland" while neglecting the meticulous examination of historical details. Reading "The Unbreakable Red Silk" today, however, feels refreshingly new—the author uses "red silk" as the thread and the method of "time-space overprinting" as the needle to stitch together the border smoke, construction site sounds, and everyday life from the Third Front construction in 1966 to the present day. It reveals not only the magnificent grandeur of the turbulent landscape but also the subtle warmth of the human heart, making it a breakthrough work in recent military literature that "sees the big picture in the small details and conveys the truth through emotion."

On the occasion of this work's publication, I am pleased to write this preface. I hope that readers, while reading this work, will not only witness the heroism amidst the smoke of battle, but also the warmth beneath the red ribbons; that they will not only admire the sacrifices of the heroes, but also be inspired with the lofty ambition to "build the motherland and safeguard peace"—this is the author's wish, and also my expectation.

contradiction
Autumn 1979 in BJ

"Qingming" will be released nationwide on the third day of the tenth lunar month.
-
Over the past month, the Wave Literature Society has gradually gotten back on track.

Xu Chengjun was appointed president, and there was no vice president for the time being. Xu Chengjun personally took on the role of creative director, while Xu Demin was temporarily appointed as the head of the editorial department. The liaison department was handed over to Wang Chunan, a third-year student in the journalism department. She was a native of Shanghai and the vice president of the student union. In later generations, she was a powerful woman who made a great name for herself.

The Organization Department was temporarily handed over to Lin Yimin. In fact, Xu Chengjun originally wanted to make him the vice president, but he refused, saying that he was not qualified enough to take on important responsibilities.

It's really unreasonable to have a group of sophomores and juniors serve as club presidents when they are freshmen.

In October, the sycamore leaves at Fudan University begin to turn yellow.

Every Friday evening at 7 p.m., the lights in the Chinese Department's lecture hall would turn on on time, which was the regular meeting time for the Wave Literature Society.

Xu Chengjun always arrived ten minutes early, spreading out copies of "People's Literature" and "Harvest" borrowed from the library on the podium. Occasionally, he would also place copies of Hanzi's essay manuscripts, which he had obtained from the editorial department of "Anhui Literature."

These "treasures" were brought back by him from the Anhui Youth Entrepreneurship Association. The smell of ink mixed with the scent of old paper became the "prelude" to the regular meetings.

"Let's start by submitting our topic proposals today."

Xu Chengjun tucked the pen back into his breast pocket. It was the same pen his teacher had given him, with some ink stains still on the cap.

As he spoke, his gaze swept over Wang Chunan, Xu Demin, and Lin Yimin sitting in the front row, finally settling on the faces of the group of members in the back row, some of whom were young and inexperienced, others filled with curiosity.

Wang Chunan pulled a leather notebook from her canvas bag. The words "External Liaison Record" were written on it in red pen. Opening the notebook, she saw it filled with dense handwriting: "Last week, we reached an agreement with the school radio station to give us three minutes to read poetry on the 'Voice of Youth' program every Wednesday evening. Also, next Wednesday afternoon, I contacted a teacher from the Shanghai Writers Association to give us a lecture on 'The Possibilities of Literature in the New Era,' which will be held in the large lecture hall of the third teaching building."

She speaks crisply and decisively, with the shrewdness and competence unique to Shanghai girls, like a precise little steel ball, bouncing things off one by one.

Xu Demin adjusted his glasses, clutching several sheets of paper in his hand—short articles recently submitted by members: "We received twenty-three articles this week. My colleagues and I screened them, and five are suitable for our 'internal exchange.' Also, Chengjun, have you decided on a name for our journal?"

“I’ve thought it through. Let’s keep calling it ‘The Wave’.” Xu Chengjun nodded. “The wave represents the wave of the times, and the tide represents the tide of us young people. That’s good.”

Lin Yimin added from the side: "The Organization Department did a count this week, and now there are 37 official members, and more than 20 prospective members are still observing. I'm planning to hold a 'New Member Creative Writing Competition' with the theme 'What I Saw in 1979'. The first prize is a copy of 'The Complete Works of Lu Xun'. What do you think?"

He spoke with a touch of boyish shyness, yet he had thought of the event very thoroughly.

The regular meeting proceeded in this casual, back-and-forth conversation, without a strict hierarchical division, more like a group of young people with literary dreams, gathered together to weave a web.

Capture the inspiration scattered throughout the campus, and also capture the whispers of this era.

Fairy Boat Pavilion.

The former storage room of the Chinese Department has become the activity base for Xu Chengjun and others. The room is more than 50 square meters and has been cleared out to make room for two meeting rooms and several desks.

This was obtained through negotiation with Zhang Peiheng, and also thanks to my senior brother's influence.

Despite the rudimentary conditions, everyone was full of enthusiasm.

"President, are you giving a lecture on the application of classical Chinese in modern times tonight?"

When the commune members saw Xu Chengjun enter, they all greeted him very enthusiastically.

Xu Chengjun nodded with a smile.

Over the past month, Xu Chengjun has spent every day with these members, applying some of his previous experience from his time working within the system to the complex and demanding work of establishing the society.

It not only gained the widespread support of the members, but also their sincere recognition of Xu Chengjun's management ability and personal charm. This is the unique charm of a "Zhongdeng" revitalized within the system.

It also gained full recognition from the school.

During this period, he continuously organized some creative ideas that he understood were suitable for this era, including those that existed and those that did not, and wrote them down in his notebook, explaining them step by step in his lectures.

From the most widely recognized views of authors of this era to some of Xu Chengjun's later views.

There is a wealth of material and themes in the literary world; he couldn't possibly write it all by himself.

"President, your last talk about the creative concept of 'time loop' was very popular. When can we continue this discussion? Everyone is looking forward to your new work!"

"Definitely when I have time!"

"Don't be so sure, everyone's waiting!" Xu Qian joked with Xu Chengjun with a smile.

"Okay, next time we'll arrange for you to go up and give a good presentation to everyone."

The small storage room was bustling with activity, and everyone could feel the unique atmosphere that "The Wave" and Xu Chengjun brought, a atmosphere different from that of this era.

In the past month, in addition to Xu Chengjun personally giving lectures and sharing his experiences, Wang Chunan and the Writers Association have also made efforts to secure funding.

During this month, Xu Chengjun also invited Li Xiaolin, Ru Zhijuan, and Gong Liu, who was in Shanghai on official business, to give special lectures.

The event was so grand that it shook the entire school.

Especially on the day of Ru Zhijuan's lecture, many non-literary society members actively participated, causing the Chinese writing lecture hall to be temporarily unable to accommodate everyone.

Ultimately, the school intervened and arranged for a public lecture to be held in the auditorium.

Ru Zhijuan gave a lecture on "Modern Literary Reflections and World Literary Trends" to all students.

At the beginning of the lecture, Sister Ru joked with a smile: "I have actually heard of Xu Chengjun from Fudan University for a long time because Mr. Wang Zengqi became acquainted with Comrade Chengjun early on and recognized his literary talent through 'The Fitting Mirror'. I thought to myself, as the editor of 'Shanghai Literature', I should invite this rising star to contribute! But guess what?"

All the students held their breath in suspense.

Several Tongji University students who arrived late after hearing the news missed the first part of the story and hurriedly inquired about the details from those around them.

Xu Chengjun shook his head helplessly from below the stage.

She paused for a moment and then smiled and said, "I personally wrote three invitation letters. Comrade Cheng Jun wrote one saying, 'I'm in Anhui, thank you for the invitation,' and another saying, 'I'm at Fudan University, thank you for the invitation.' You must be wondering about the third one. Well, for the third one, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to catch him, so I came to Fudan University in person to deliver the invitation letter to him!"

"As you've seen, that's the result."

The students in the audience burst into laughter.

"He dragged me here to give this lecture. I don't know if I'll be able to get my manuscript published in *Shanghai Literature* later?"

Xu Chengjun was also amused and quickly put his hands together in prayer.

After this incident, he was finally able to submit a manuscript to "Shanghai Literature" no matter what.

Sister Ru did support him. After explaining the whole story, she immediately put aside her work and came to Fudan University to give this lecture to the students.

But when the lecture ended, seeing his honest and simple appearance, I couldn't help but say, "A while ago, Li Xiaolin came to us and said she had received another article from you, and that it had the potential to make groundbreaking changes. We are so envious of that!"

After exchanging a few pleasantries with Director Zhang, the acting head of the Chinese Department who had come to offer his support, Sister Ru rode her "Forever" bicycle home.

The students below the stage lingered, reluctant to leave.

Students from other schools, in particular, kept exclaiming: "If only we could join the 'wave'!"

(End of this chapter)