Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 135 I Want to Earn Dollars

After the start of autumn, the evenings became a bit cooler. His teacher's wife would frequently call Liu Yimin to Cao Yu's house to "gain weight for winter," and each time he went, he would spend about an hour with Cao Yu in his study.

In the living room, after finishing dinner, Liu Yimin reached into his bag and took the manuscript out.

"Senior sister, the script is finished. Please take a look and see if there are any parts that need to be revised." Liu Yimin handed the script of "Romance on Lushan Mountain" to Wan Fang, asking her to take a look in her capacity as an editor of "Script Monthly".

Upon seeing this, Li Yuru smiled and said, "Yimin, you're still carrying a green canvas bag. It's rare to see a young person like you."

Liu Yimin understood what his teacher's wife meant; he had money now and could easily buy a nicer bag.

Cao Yu sat on the sofa, shifted his position to a comfortable spot, and leaned back, saying, "A mountain is not famous for its height, but for the immortals dwelling there. Water is not sacred for its depth, but for the dragons inhabiting it. This is a humble abode, but my virtue makes it fragrant. I think this shoulder bag is quite nice; carrying it gives me a youthful vibe."

Li Yuru nodded and smiled easily: "I still prefer this style of dress!"

Look, Liu Yimin carrying this kind of satchel is called simplicity, pursuing the spirit rather than the material. If someone else were carrying it, that would be a different story.

Liu Yimin liked this outfit; he wasn't yet at the age where he would carry a black satchel and exude a hint of old age.

"Yimin, your script is more exciting than the novel. In the end, it's too short to fully develop the story and show its depth."

After flipping through a few pages, Wan Fang began to comment.

Cao Yu took the script from Wan Fang after she had read it and began to read it with great interest. Liu Yimin ran to the kitchen and helped Li Yuru clean it up.

Li Yuru quickly washed the dishes and chopsticks, wiped her hands, and asked, "Yimin, are you getting used to living in the dormitory?"

“Teacher’s wife, it’s a habit. The comrades at the Beijing People’s Art Theatre are all very nice.” Liu Yimin didn’t know what Li Yuru meant.

“If you’re not used to it, you can move in here. Anyway, it’s such a big house, just the two of us, your teacher and I, it’s just sitting empty.” Li Yuru pointed to the empty bedroom next door.

“Teacher’s wife, I can’t sleep well at night, and I don’t want to disturb your and the teacher’s sleep.”

Sitting in the living room, Cao Yu looked up and smiled, saying, "Young people need their own space. He wouldn't be comfortable living here. Besides, his dorm is quite lively, so you don't need to worry about him."

"Really?" Li Yuru didn't bring up the matter of letting Liu Yimin stay at her home again.

Liu Yimin glanced at Cao Yu, sensing that he seemed to be implying something.

"If this script is made into a film, it will definitely be good. The fate of individuals is intertwined with the fate of the country and the fate of the times. No one can escape it. When Lao Ba came back from France, he specifically came to me and said that he had met those international students and there was something he had been holding in his heart for a long time: the motherland belongs to everyone. Building the motherland is not the responsibility of one person or one group. The country sent them abroad, and they also have a responsibility."

Cao Yu's voice became a little excited as he finished speaking.

Liu Yimin recalled that Ba Jin's reasoning likely stemmed from the farewell party for his return to China, where many overseas students were present. Some of these students were willing to return, while others were not.

"Especially the dialogue at the end is very touching. [Building the motherland is no different from you and me, this is also our home as overseas Chinese!] Yimin, it's good that you thought of publishing it in the 'Script Monthly' magazine. Your senior sister has been good to you. However, the space for this issue has already been arranged. I will publish it for you in the next issue."

After Wan Fang finished speaking, she suddenly remembered: "Which film studio are you planning to submit this script to?"

"The editors from Shanghai Film Studio contacted me. I wanted to show it to them first, and if they didn't want it, I would submit it to Beijing Film Studio," Liu Yimin said, straightening up.

Wan Fang chuckled, a hint of mockery in his voice: "Do you think they don't want it? What are they planning to do? Do they still want to make a good movie?"

"Senior sister, the way you're saying it makes it seem like you're siding with your own people and not being reasonable!" Liu Yimin joked.

"I'm siding with my family because I'm on the side of reason, since your script is the only one that makes sense!"

Cao Yu crossed his arms and said, "It would be truly unreasonable not to film a movie with a script like this. However, since this is the first film with a romance theme, it's understandable that the film studio has concerns."

"Teacher, this isn't a romance movie!"

Cao Yu and Wan Fang looked up at him in confusion. If it's not a romance film, is it supposed to be a patriotic education film?
"This is a scenic and lyrical film featuring the scenery of Mount Lu!"

Wan Fang slapped his thigh with delight: "I've seen people with good ideas, but I've never seen anyone as good as you."

Cao Yu stood up with a smile, stretched, and said to Liu Yimin, "Come on, it's getting cold. Come with me for a walk. In a few months, we won't be able to take walks anymore."

Many leaders live in the Muxidi area, and Cao Yu prefers to walk a little further away from there. Next to Muxidi is the Yongding River irrigation canal, and you can walk to Yuyuantan Park by following this canal.

Along the riverbank, all sorts of insects were chirping. But with the river breeze blowing at this moment, it didn't sound annoying at all.

"I heard from your senior sister that you wrote a special manuscript?" Cao Yu looked at the dark mass in the middle of the canal, then shifted his gaze to Liu Yimin.

Liu Yimin thought for a moment. He knew what Cao Yu meant, since he had only written so many articles: "That article was something I wrote for fun. I wrote it on a whim after talking to a few international students at Foreign Language Teaching and Research Press."

The progress of "Green Book" has also caught up, and Wan Fang happened to see it last time.

"Tell me about it. Your senior sister told me this after she came back from your dorm, but she didn't explain it very clearly."

"It tells the story of a young man who fled from the American South to the North. During his turbulent years in the North, he met a musician who was also down on his luck. Under the musician's tutelage, he surpassed his teacher and became a composer and pianist. His exceptional playing skills captivated the American upper class."

But one day, he was going on a tour in the South, which at that time was still a haven for racists, where people were completely isolated from white people in two different worlds. To ensure his safety, he hired a down-on-his-luck white man as his driver and bodyguard before heading south.

Liu Yimin explained very carefully, and Cao Yu listened very attentively. At times, Cao Yu would even interrupt Liu Yimin to ask questions in detail.

After Liu Yimin finished speaking, the two of them had already reached the entrance of Yuyuantan Park and began to turn around and walk back.

Cao Yu asked with a smile, "Why did you decide to write this? The story is even planned out in a very good way, 'Hey, Survival Guide.' I have a deep understanding of racial discrimination in the United States, but I didn't expect it to be this serious."

“Hey, people’s lives matter too. Even though this happened in the West, as an Easterner, I feel I have an obligation to speak up for them.”

"Tell me the truth!" Cao Yu laughed and waved his arm in the air as if he was about to hit him.

"I want to earn some dollars."

Cao Yu looked at Liu Yimin with a smile: "Finally, you're telling the truth. If you want to publish in the United States, I know some people who might be useful."

"Thank you, teacher. I've only written half of it. I'll bring it to you for your approval once I'm done."

"Let's go, if we stay out any longer, your teacher's wife will worry." The next day, Liu Yimin put the script of "Romance on Lushan Mountain" into an envelope, affixed a stamp, and threw it into the mailbox. He also sent a telegram to reassure Zhang Mengzhao and reminded her to look for the letter in a few days.

The cast and crew for "The Flames of War in Beiping" have been assembled, and rehearsals are proceeding smoothly. Ouyang Shanzun's directing style differs from Lan Tianye's, causing the actors considerable hardship.

Ouyang Shanzun stood in front of the stage, with Lan Tianye standing to the side holding the script. The two of them read the script and had the actors practice. If they found anything inappropriate, they would immediately stop the performance.

Liu Yimin sat in the front row, with the script in his hand. During the actual rehearsals, any lines that were not suitable had to be revised word by word.

Sometimes, because of a single word, three people have to spend half a day checking each other's work.

Ouyang Shanzun always said, "This is a good show, and I can't let it be ruined."

After he said that, Liu Yimin could no longer complain. If a director has this awareness, then you, as a screenwriter, treat the script like your own son, and you can't be perfunctory in your treatment of your own son.

Wen San'er was played by Zheng Rong, who also played Chang Siye in "Teahouse", Zhao Daye in "Longxu Ditch" and Zhou Puyuan in "Thunderstorm".

During a break, Zheng Rong also met with Liu Yimin to rehearse, carefully trying to understand the character of Wen San'er.

"Comrade Zheng, if you want to experience it, I'll take you somewhere, find someone, and you can have a drink with him. Maybe you'll have a different experience."

Liu Yimin was referring to our Master Ma.

Upon hearing this, Zheng Rong moved even closer and asked curiously, "Oh, who?" As stage actors, they often had to study their roles on location.

"It's not far, it's right next to the Writers' Association. I talked to him a lot when I was writing, and I incorporated stories from his past experiences into the story."

Hearing Liu Yimin say this, Zheng Rong hurriedly nodded: "Then we must go see him, we must go see him. When should we go? How about tonight?"

"Okay, let's go over after rehearsal. It's perfect timing, Ma Ye and I haven't had a drink in a while!"

When Ouyang Shanzun and Lan Tianye heard this, they also shouted that they wanted to go: "Let's all go, it'll be more fun with more people!"

"Then I'll go prepare some food and drinks and bring them over in a bit," Liu Yimin said.

Ouyang Shanzun hurriedly tugged at Liu Yimin's sleeve, telling him not to go: "We should be the ones preparing the food and drinks, how can we let you prepare them?"

Liu Yimin said with a smile, "Master Ma's wine is all set for today!"

Inside the Shanghai Film Studio building, in the Literature Department office, Zhang Mengzhao was reviewing submitted scripts. Many of these scripts had been accumulated over the past ten years, and the editors had to review them all again, hoping to find a good one if they happened to come across one.

Each film studio has its own shooting tasks, and the number of films shot is an important criterion. Currently, the domestic film market lacks good films, which puts a lot of pressure on film studios.

Zhang Mengzhao sat there, having already reviewed five or six scripts. He was so dizzy from reading that he had to put down his script, look out the window, and pick up his teacup, only to find that it was empty.

Frustrated, he tapped the enamel mug, preparing to fetch water.

As soon as he turned around, he saw director Huang Zumo standing behind him. Zhang Mengzhao smiled wearily and said, "Old Huang, it hasn't arrived yet. I'll definitely let you know when it arrives!"

"Why is it taking so long? Why is it taking so long? I think we should invite Liu Yimin to Building 52 instead," Huang Zumo said disappointedly.

Building No. 52 at the Shanghai Film Studio was the building for the Literature Department. It housed screenwriters and novelists, and good scripts had to be revised there first.

Huang Zumo had been trying to get Zhang Mengzhao to invite Liu Yimin to stay over and revise the script, and to take the opportunity to get to know Liu Yimin, as he wanted to act in the script.

“Old Huang, when I went there he was still in school, revising scripts at the Beijing People’s Art Theatre during the summer vacation. He was still Wan Lao’s student. Are you going to compete with the Beijing People’s Art Theatre?” Zhang Mengzhao urged.

Upon hearing this, Huang Zumo shrank back, suggesting that asking him to compete with Cao Yu for the authorship was worse than simply taking his life.

He clicked his tongue and said, "Then we can only wait?"

"It seems we can only wait!"

Disappointed, Huang Zumo was about to turn and leave when the mailroom called. Zhang Mengzhao had a telegram from Yanjing that needed to be signed, and the postman was still waiting.

"From Yanjing?" Zhang Mengzhao walked downstairs with a puzzled look.

Huang Zumo, who was standing next to him, followed up: "It's not a manuscript from Yanjing, is it?"

"Old Huang, I think you've lost your mind. How could you possibly send a manuscript by telegram? Is it even worth it for the fee we're paying?" Zhang Mengzhao rolled his eyes at Huang Zumo, shook his head, and continued walking towards the mailroom.

Huang Zumo was not giving up: "I think it must be news about 'Romance on Lushan Mountain'. I have a connection with this script. When you told me about it, I felt that I had to be the one to direct it."

"Follow me if you want!" Zhang Mengzhao said irritably.

Upon arriving at the mailroom, Zhang Mengzhao stamped the postman's receipt to confirm receipt, then took the telegram and read it in front of Huang Zumo. There were only a few words on it, and Zhang Mengzhao's hand suddenly trembled, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Old Huang, your jinxed mouth has finally come in handy!"

Huang Zumo didn't think Zhang Mengzhao was insulting him. He snatched the telegram from Zhang Mengzhao's hand, read it, and burst into laughter.

The script has been sent out, and the signature next to it is Liu Yimin.

"I knew it! I have a natural affinity with this notebook!"

Zhang Mengzhao started counting on his fingers how many days it would take to get from Yanjing to Shanghai.

“No matter how many days, it won’t be more than 10 days. We’ve waited for months, what’s a few more days?” Huang Zumo said loudly.

Zhang Mengzhao didn't speak until he had a clear idea of ​​the time, then gave him a disdainful look: "You're starting to act all high and mighty now!"

"I need to go and report to the factory manager first, to get on his good side, so I can directly secure the filming rights for the script. Old Zhang, as Liu Yimin's editor, please put in a good word for me."

Huang Zumo followed behind Zhang Mengzhao, muttering to himself. Zhang Mengzhao felt like he was being buzzed around by a fly, so he waved his sleeve and said, "Let's see how you perform. You expect me to talk without any real knowledge? That's too easy for you!"

(End of this chapter)