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

Chapter 149 Recreating the Grandeur of "Teahouse"
The bustling scene of people queuing up and stomping their feet to ward off the cold was in stark contrast. People at the door anxiously craned their necks to see how many people were left. Seeing that the number of people had not decreased at all, they cursed and then shrank back and blew their breath into their palms to keep warm.

"Since we still have so much time, why not get a candied hawthorn? Do you know who just bought a candied hawthorn?" the educated youth selling candied hawthorns said mysteriously.

"Who?"

"I doubt you would guess that he is Liu Yimin, a student of Chinese Literature at Yenching University, a famous writer and poet, a representative of young writers, and the author of 'Mr. Donkey' and 'The Smoke of War in Beiping'."

The educated youth selling candied hawthorns sang in a Peking Opera style, swaying his head and making a fuss. After he finished speaking, the people in line were in an uproar, saying that he was bragging.

An old man said in fluent Yanjing dialect, "Damn, this title outlives my life."

"I've met Liu Yimin before; he's a strong, burly man!"

“Hey, don’t you believe me? I’ve been here 360 ​​days a year, through thick and thin, and I’ve figured everything out. Liu Yimin, speaking of which, the writing of ‘The Flames of War in Beiping’ is related to my candied hawthorns.”

"What does it have to do with anything? It can't be something from what you eat!"

"You're right, it was snowing heavily that day, and the north wind was incredibly cold. Comrade Liu Yimin asked me for a candied hawthorn. As he ate it, he looked up at the snowflakes fluttering in the sky. Suddenly, a hawthorn fell to the ground. Comrade Liu Yimin went to pick it up, and just as he touched the candied hawthorn, he suddenly said something!"

"What?"

"Have it!"

"What's up?"

"The War Smoke Over Beiping is here!"

"Hey, you're quite the talker!"

"If you don't believe me, just wait and see. There's definitely someone inside carrying a bundle of straw for candied hawthorns!"

"Give me a skewer, let's also have a skewer of candied hawthorn that Comrade Liu Yimin ate."

Zhou Yang and Xia Yan arrived hand in hand. Hearing the candied hawthorn vendor boasting, they smiled and said, "Give us two skewers too."

Zhou Yang then looked at Mao Dun, who quickly said, "It's no use, I can't bite it anymore."

Today, almost all the chairmen and vice-chairmen of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles came. Cao Yu and Liu Yimin welcomed everyone in and sat them down in the best viewing spots. It was a pity that Ba Jin did not come.

Old Ma sat a few rows to the side of Liu Yimin. He felt awkward being too close and preferred to watch the show alone. Liu Yimin had specially found him a seat.

"Master Jiabao, it's up to you this time!" Zhou Yang said with a smile.

“We at the Beijing People’s Art Theatre have great confidence in this play,” Cao Yu said, before sitting down to watch it.

A gong sounded, the curtain slowly rose, and a cacophony of vendors' cries filled the stage, bringing with it the atmosphere of old Beijing. Everyone glanced at the candied hawthorns in their hands; sure enough, someone was selling them on stage.

Zhou Yang recounted what had just happened in a low voice. Liu Yimin said speechlessly, "This kid is actually making fun of me. The last time I bought his candied hawthorns was because he was making fun of the Empress Dowager."

“Yimin sat side by side with the Empress Dowager.”

As the play unfolded, everyone stopped discussing and became completely absorbed in Zheng Rong's portrayal of Wen San'er.

Wen San'er sat in the restaurant, chatting with everyone about how he and Yanzi Li San'er had become sworn brothers. A crowd of people surrounded him, some watching with amusement, others with disdain.

One by one, the characters from the book slowly walked out of the stage, leading everyone to experience the past of Beiping.

Yu Jiajia, who was not far away, watched and pondered how to write the report. Finally, she focused her attention on Zhou Yang and the others. If she could interview them, this interview would be the finishing touch.

However, would a minister-level figure accept an interview from a small-time reporter like her? After the two-hour-plus play ended, everyone looked like they wanted more. Zhou Yang said, "Old Wan, why was the performance so short? Such a wonderful play could easily last three or four hours!"

Xia Yan also said regretfully, "Yimin, what a pity, it's too short, I haven't had enough!"

"What a feast for the eyes! Old Wan, I'll come again tomorrow!" Mao Dun said with a smile.

The rest of the audience was also completely absorbed in the performance, and only realized it was over after the actors came up and bowed deeply.

"Whoever spouts nonsense about imitating others is a fool. If I ever see him, I'll slap him across the face with Wen San'er's shoe."

"One slap isn't enough to vent my anger; I have to whip it until it's spinning like a top."

Liu Yimin glanced at the note in his hand; Yu Jiajia's eyes held a hint of pleading and longing.

Liu Yimin said with a smile, "Elder Zhou, Elder Xia, and several other seniors, you must stand up for me! Everyone says it's just a poor imitation, and I haven't been sleeping well lately!"

He's practically saying he's about to become Yu Yu.

Xia Yan chuckled: "You have your teacher to back you up, why do you need us?"

Zhou Yang tilted his head and said, "Some comrades like to look at others with a magnifying glass and compare them with their own ruler. They are a foot shorter than others and a foot wider than themselves."

"If Mr. Lao She knew that someone was imitating him like this, he would probably be very pleased. Comrade Yimin, keep up the good work, I want to see more of your works," Mao Dun encouraged.

"What do you want us to do?"

"A reporter from China Youth Daily wants to conduct an interview, I don't know?"

Zhou Yang glanced at Yu Jiajia not far away, thought for a moment, and said, "Let this young comrade come over here!"

Yu Jiajia walked out nervously. Cao Yu specially found an office for everyone to chat. Yu Jiajia stuttered a bit during the interview, and Zhou Yang even taught her some interviewing techniques.

Liu Yimin first saw Old Ma off, then returned to his office: "Little thief, not bad at all! Master Ma likes it, but it just makes me want to cry!"

Master Ma waved his hand and rode away from the Beijing People's Art Theatre on his dilapidated tricycle. The wind was strong, and ironically, the old tricycle was the most stable in the wind.

After seeing the elders off, Yu Jiajia breathed a sigh of relief: "Comrade Liu Yimin, I was so nervous just now that I could barely speak, but you were still able to crack a joke every now and then."

Liu Yimin said, "After a while, it's all the same."

"If you stay too long, it's all the same? That's a statement that's easy to offend people. How many people in the arts and literature circles have stayed with them for long? I'll finish the report as soon as possible. Just now, the old guys said that 'Teahouse' has a successor! I think that's a good title."

Yu Jiajia acted quickly; the China Youth Daily published it on January 3rd. It is said that one report was removed and this one was published instead.

It quotes extensively from several senior members of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles, praising "Wolf Smoke Over Beiping" as another masterpiece after "Teahouse" and "Dragon Beard Ditch," and saying that it has at least seven-tenths of the charm of "Teahouse."

Several high-ranking officials from the Federation of Literary and Art Circles have spoken out, and those who were pessimistic about "The Flames of War in Beiping" immediately shut up. Some writers who cherish spring are now in a bind. Are these high-ranking officials really that close to Liu Yimin, who is considered "left-leaning"?

Following the publication of the report in the China Youth Daily, newspapers throughout Beijing began reporting on "The Flames of War in Beiping." Every performance was sold out; tickets were impossible to obtain without prior booking.

"The heyday of 'Teahouse' back then was probably similar to this." Yu Shizhi stood on the upper floor of the Beijing People's Art Theatre, looking at the audience queuing to buy tickets, with a look of nostalgia on his face.

"Yes, it's just like it was back then!"

Ouyang Shanzun crossed his arms and said casually, "Guess what kind of script Yimin will write next? He's still young!"

(End of this chapter)