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

Chapter 173 The Plans of the "Stars" Editorial Department

After reading the letter, Liu Yimin laughed and said, "This Lan Yong, writing a letter is like going to war, he stops halfway through."

Heeding his advice, Liu Yimin didn't write back. Instead, he casually tossed his replies to his family and Zhu Lin into the mailbox during class.

In class, the professor spoke eloquently, reciting all sorts of ancient poems.

"The bones have withered on the sand and the grass has turned to dust, yet their families still send them warm clothes. Classmates, how did the ancients describe war? The bones are scattered in the sand and no one is collecting them. There are so many bones that they have even crushed the grass. But their families are unaware of this and are still worried that they are freezing on the front lines, so they send them warm clothes."

Liu Yimin kept scribbling on the draft paper when, with a snap, the nib of his pen suddenly broke.
A whole month had passed since Liu Yimin last met Mao Dun, and he had completely forgotten that Mao Dun had called the school to ask if Liu Yimin had finished writing "The Kite Runner".

"What's wrong, sir?" Liu Yimin asked.

"You've finished writing it? Let me see it before you submit it. You haven't already submitted it, have you?" Mao Dun's slouching body immediately straightened up.

"Not yet, I just finished writing it. Your memory is excellent."

“I’ve timed it perfectly. Come over tonight. My home is at No. 13 Houyuanensi Hutong, Dongcheng District. Come and get acquainted with the place. If you’re not coming for dinner, I’ll treat you to something nice,” Mao Dun said excitedly.

Liu Yimin readily agreed, promising to arrive on time that evening.

After returning to the dormitory, I chatted with a few people for a while. When I saw that it was almost time, I took the manuscript and rode towards Mao Dun's house.

Liu Yimin only realized now that Mao Dun's home at No. 13 Houci'en Temple Hutong was just over two kilometers away from his courtyard house; they were practically neighbors.

No wonder Mao Dun told him to visit him whenever he had free time; it turns out they lived so close.

I rode my bicycle to Mao Dun's house. The gate of the courtyard was very small, much smaller than Liu Yimin's, and not as nice as Xia Yan's courtyard.

This is a two-courtyard siheyuan built during the Republic of China era. It is quite large, with an area of ​​over 800 square meters. After Liu Yimin was led inside by Mao Dun, he saw that the interior was extremely simple and elegant.

Mao Dun lived with his children. His wife passed away in 70, but with his children around, the house didn't feel lonely.

"Here, I made some Hangzhou cuisine for you today. Try it and see if you like it!"

Liu Yimin smiled faintly and asked, "Do you have West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce?"

"You like this dish?"

Liu Yimin shook his head like a rattle drum. West Lake Vinegar Fish? Who would still make West Lake Vinegar Fish if it tasted better?
Mao Dun's son, Wei Tao, said to Liu Yimin, "Yimin, we've finally met. My father has been talking about you and your books a lot lately. I'm taking advantage of my father's presence today to have a look at them too."

"Brother Wei Tao, please feel free to read it. If there are any parts that are not well written, please point them out and offer your criticism," Liu Yimin said happily.

"I'd better not talk about my limited knowledge; I'll just observe."

At the dinner table, they ate first. To be honest, Liu Yimin couldn't get used to the local cuisine. However, Mao Dun and Xia Yan couldn't get used to the northern food. In Xia Yan's circle, people from the south would often get together to eat southern food, which they jokingly called "Second-rate Hall."

"What's wrong? You can't get used to the food?" Mao Dun asked, looking at Liu Yimin.

Liu Yimin was taken aback. Had he made it too obvious?
“Yimin, it’s my fault. I was so focused on letting you try Hangzhou cuisine that I forgot you’re from the North. I’ll go make you something now,” Wei Tao said, getting up.

Liu Yimin quickly said, "Brother Wei Tao, I've eaten enough. I can't keep indulging myself. I eat whatever's available. That's what I thought when I was in France. Otherwise, I really couldn't stomach the dry bread there." After much persuasion, Wei Tao finally sat down again.

Reading until late at night, Mao Dun finished reading and said with a smile, "Not bad, not bad, the literary prize should be awarded to your work. The Writers' Association has now agreed to establish a long-form literary prize, and the first one will be awarded next year. After that, it will be awarded every few years."

Wei Tao said, "This has always been my father's wish. Speaking of which, Yimin, I have to thank you for this!"

"I didn't contribute any money or effort, so there's no need to thank me."

Mao Dun waved his hand and said, "You should thank me."

After a while, Mao Dun said again, "Yimin, how about I write a preface for your book after it's published as a standalone book?"

"Oh dear, I should be thanking you!"

"There's no need for constant thanks between us. If you don't contact me later, I'll get angry."

"However, I don't know when the single volume will be released yet. Once it is, I will definitely come and bother you."

"I think someone will come looking for you before the end of the year. Also, how are your preparations for your trip to Tibet to collect folk songs going?"

Liu Yimin said, "I'll just wait until the holiday to leave." This time, Liu Yimin won't go home; he'll go directly to Sichuan Province.

"I've heard a bit about what happened after that. Just go for it and don't let what's going on outside affect you. When you come back, we'll have a drink with your teacher again."

Mao Dun was very weak and tired from talking so late. After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Liu Yimin left Mao Dun's house and returned to his own courtyard house.

Before Liu Yimin even arrived in Sichuan Province, some local cultural figures had already heard about him. When the local authorities were arranging escorts, some young people eagerly volunteered to be his guides.

Inside the editorial office of the poetry journal "Stars," Bai Xing saw the news and immediately contacted an editor to prepare to get in touch with Liu Yimin once he arrived.

Last year, Stars magazine was relaunched. As the only professional poetry magazine that could rival Poetry Journal, they naturally wanted to do everything they could to surpass Poetry Journal in terms of influence.

Given Liu Yimin's influence among various reader groups, Bai Xing felt it was essential to compile a few of his poems. Previously, since they were based in Sichuan Province and editors rarely traveled to Beijing, Liu Yimin wouldn't respond to requests for submissions. So this time, it was like waiting patiently for a rabbit to run into a tree stump—and finally, their wish came true.

"Comrade Liu Yimin has proven himself in the field of novels, and he has also proven himself in the field of poetry. Find an editor to meet with Comrade Liu Yimin. If necessary, you can go with Comrade Liu Yimin to Aba and other places to take a look and reconnect with him."

Even if we can't get any submissions, we still need to publish some of our own poems and articles!

"Will the officials in the province allow us to participate?" one editor asked.

"Why not? Comrade Liu Yimin is an educated man, and he's perfect for arranging our people. You all discuss it, and this afternoon you should go find some comrades from the United Front Work Department and have a good chat."

"It would be best if you could speak Tibetan. Who among you can speak it and be a translator?" Bai Xing asked with a smile.

P.S. I was getting my computer repaired today, so I'm very late. Sorry!

Thank you to reader 202504250 for the 100 reading coins reward.

(End of this chapter)