1979: The child's mother is a celestial being.

Chapter 15: Finding a Way Back

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Dark night, high in the sky. The deafening roar of the wind filled my ears and tore at my nerves. I huddled against the cold metal wall of the cabin, my stomach churning with every jolt. Suddenly, the cabin door swung open, and a violent blizzard rushed in, feeling like countless icy needles piercing my face.

"Prepare!" A deep but undeniable command came from the front; it was Zhang Xianchen's voice.

I suddenly opened my eyes and looked down through the open hatch.

Below is Harbin in the dead of winter in the 1930s—no lights of homes, only a desolate, dark silhouette covered by thick snow, like the spine of a crouching beast. Scattered lights float in the distance like will-o'-the-wisps, and further away is the dark Songhua River, winding like a frozen wound.

"Jump!" The captain's command pulled me back to reality from my daze...

-

Movies can have multiple lead actors, but novels are best told to have only one protagonist, as this allows readers to better immerse themselves in the story.

Moreover, this rule applies to all types of novels, whether they feature a male protagonist, a female protagonist, or even an ensemble cast.

Therefore, Chen Fusheng chose Zhang Lan, the female lead whose role is present throughout the entire film, as the protagonist of his novel. As for why he used a first-person narrative, it's because it makes the novel feel more tense and realistic.

After all, he wrote traditional novels, specifically spy thrillers, not the online novels of later generations that often start at a million words. Readers are not as picky about the first-person perspective.

"Brother-in-law, are you not writing again today? Write more, it's not enough to read."

Ever since Chen Fusheng officially started writing "Cliff Walkers", the manuscript was basically in someone else's hands the moment he put down his pen.

The key issue is that these people not only freeload off his novels, but also keep urging him to finish them.

"I also want to write more every day, but it's cold. On average, I have to warm myself by the fire after writing for about ten minutes, and each time I do that, it interrupts my train of thought. So, it's already pretty good if I can manage to write 5,000 words a day."

It's unclear whether Lu Wenhai, the editor-in-chief of Northern Literature, was eavesdropping at the door, but as soon as Chen Fusheng finished speaking, Lu knocked and came in.

The key point is that this time when he came, he also brought Chen Fusheng an imported fountain pen and a hand warmer.

"Brother-in-law, with this hand warmer, you can write a little more every day."

Although Chen Fusheng felt like he was being manipulated, he was glad that he could finish writing "Cliff Walkers" sooner and relax sooner.

In addition, seeing his wife's belly grow bigger every day, the thought of earning money for baby formula also continuously provided him with creative motivation.

So, Chen Fusheng increased his daily updates from 5,000 words to 8,000 to 10,000 words.

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“There’s a traitor in the organization…” Zhou Yi said, his voice low and firm, breaking the heavy silence, his back to me.

"Yes." I nodded, choking back tears, and tried to swallow the food and bitterness in my mouth. I thought for a moment and said, "Contact person Lao Zhou... he did it for the child... Team Leader Zhang, he..." The rest of the words got stuck in my throat, and I couldn't finish them.

Zhou Yi slowly turned around. Faint sunlight streamed through the only small window in the storage room, illuminating half of his face, while the other half remained hidden in deep shadow. His eyes became extremely complex, like a bottomless, icy pool, churning with undercurrents I couldn't decipher—perhaps regret, perhaps anger, or perhaps something deeper, the loneliness and pressure belonging to an 'undercover agent'.

"Live on." He looked at me, his voice not loud, but carrying immense power.

“Completing Utra is the greatest consolation for them.” I found his gaze sharp as a knife, as if piercing through my fear and sorrow.

But he didn't stop talking.

"Your mission cannot stop. Chu Liang and Wang Yu need you too."

-

After finishing this part of the story, according to the outline made by Chen Fusheng, only one-fifth of the rest is left.

He has already written more than 70,000 words, so his novel will eventually be around 100,000 words.

Today is February 9th. In the north, this day is called Little New Year. The reason for emphasizing the north is that Little New Year is a day later in the south.

However, whether it's the North or the South, the customs are quite similar, such as offering sacrifices to the Kitchen God, cleaning the house, and eating traditional foods...

As for the differences, perhaps there are some differences in cuisine between the North and the South.

"Fusheng, what do you eat when you celebrate the Little New Year?"

After finishing his tasks for the day, Chen Fusheng also went into the kitchen to help... but mainly just to join in the fun, and then his mother-in-law asked him this question.

"In my memory, we would eat glutinous rice balls and rice cakes."

"We have rice cakes, but how are glutinous rice balls made again?"

To be honest, Chen Fusheng wouldn't know either.

So his reply was: "I actually love dumplings too."

To steer clear of that topic, Chen Fusheng posed another question. "I think I heard Xiaoli mention that you northerners put a coin inside dumplings, and whoever finds the coin in the last dumpling they eat will have good luck in the coming year. Is that a custom?"

Liu Xiaoli was also in the kitchen. Upon hearing this, she looked up and gave Chen Fusheng a suspicious look, as if asking, "Did I say that?"

But they really did have this custom in Harbin before.

It was stopped a few years ago due to floods, but after the reform and opening up, some families have picked up this custom again.

But the Liu family hasn't yet.

So if Chen Fusheng hadn't brought it up, the Liu family wouldn't have thought of eating dumplings with coins inside this year.

But since he brought it up, we definitely have to cover it.

"I'll go find a coin." The sister-in-law was very eager and ran out to get a five-cent coin.

"Wash it, Xiaowei. Take the coin to your sister to wash before you put it in the dumpling wrapper," the mother-in-law quickly reminded her when she saw her youngest daughter about to stuff the coin into the dumpling wrapper.

Whoever eats this dumpling tonight will be a lucky star!

……

"Ok?"

Liu Xiaoli, meeting everyone's gazes, spat the coin from her mouth into her palm, saying, "I got it."

Everyone offered their blessings.

The mother-in-law set an example first: "Good luck will bless my eldest daughter so that she can give birth to a healthy, chubby baby next year."

Sister-in-law: "Sister, you're so lucky, could it be because of the baby in your belly?"

Others: "Congratulations..."

Of course, Chen Fusheng couldn't be missing from this segment.

"My wish is the same as my mother's: that everything goes smoothly and that she is safe and sound."

……

Four days after the Lunar New Year, Chen Fusheng's second novel only had an ending left.

He got up early and sat down at his desk.

He picked up his pen and wrote:
...Just as everyone's attention was drawn to the cruel instruments of torture—Chu Liang's lips twitched upwards very slightly. It wasn't a smile, but more like a mark of relief.

Immediately afterwards, I saw his Adam's apple bob suddenly.

"Oh no! He's going to..." A nearby intelligence chief finally reacted, shouting in horror as he tried to step forward to stop him.

But it is already late.

Chu Liang's body convulsed violently, his face instantly turning a horrifying bluish-purple. He seemed to have all his bones removed, collapsing limply to the ground, his eyes still wide open, staring straight in my direction. The light in his pupils quickly extinguished, solidifying into an empty, cold, deathly silence. Potassium cyanide—this was the last vestige of dignity he had kept hidden in his teeth.

……

The snow fell silently, covering the bloodstains, the sins, and all the pain and secrets of the city.

Dawn will eventually come, but the road to dawn is paved with the bones of the victims and the eternal pain of the living. I took one last look at the silent dome of the church in the wind and snow, turned around, wrapped my scarf tighter, and joined the sparse crowd alone.

Live on, keep fighting, on this cliff, until the true dawn pierces this long night.

终！
……

"Good! Good! Good!"

Lu Wenhai read "Cliff Walkers" from beginning to end in one go, and after finishing it, he excitedly slapped his thigh and said "good" three times.

"Comrade Fusheng, thank you so much for 'custom-made' this piece, 'On the Cliff,' for our 'Northern Literature' and for Harbin. It's so vivid, so wonderful, and so exciting!" Lu Wenhai continued, "Your father-in-law and I are old comrades-in-arms, so there's no need for formalities. In short, if you have any requests in the future, just come to me, and I will do my best to help."

"Can I ask for anything?"

This question caught Lu Wenhai off guard.

However, Chen Fusheng seemed to realize that his question was somewhat 'problematic,' so he added the next second:

"Well, my wife is four months pregnant. We're going back to Hubei after the New Year. It'll take three days by train and we'll need to transfer, which is really inconvenient. So I was wondering if you could get us plane tickets, Editor-in-Chief Lu?"

After hearing Chen Fusheng's request, Lu Wenhai breathed a sigh of relief and immediately assured him, "Don't worry, leave this to me..."

(End of this chapter)