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

Chapter 49 Standing in the Snow at Liu's Door (Please continue reading)

The guesthouse didn't have private bathrooms, but there was a public bathhouse on the second floor in the evenings. That evening, after Liu Yimin had dinner in room 306, Zou Huofan invited him to take a bath together.

Liu Yimin readily agreed and followed Zou Huofan to the public bathhouse.

"This is the most comfortable place in this guesthouse. The guesthouses under the Ministry of Culture often have broken boilers," Zou Huofan said lazily, soaking in the bathtub.

Most guesthouses only have showers; it's rare to find one with a bathtub like this one. Liu Yimin sat inside, letting the water float his body, his muscles completely relaxed.

Zou Huofan originally wanted to continue talking to Liu Yimin about literary creation, but as he turned his head, his eyes lingered on the philtrum for a few seconds, and he suddenly said with a sour tone, "It's good to be young!"

Zou Huofan immediately felt that this place was not suitable for discussing literature, but rather for boasting.

So the two of them started chatting about their stories. Liu Yimin followed up on his topic, and Zou Huofan immediately started talking non-stop about his past experiences in exile.

"Back then, we weren't thinking about the future. We just wanted to say as many things as we could while we were still alive, because who knows when we wouldn't be able to speak anymore. We ran magazines, newspapers, and performed. We were banned and hunted down. We traveled from Hankou to Hong Kong. We thought about many things, but we never thought about being silenced."

Who could have imagined that a carpenter's son could achieve what he has today? In those days, so many people were living hand to mouth!

As Liu Yimin listened to Zou Huofan, he gave positive responses, which pleased Zou Huofan greatly. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't even realize someone had walked up to them.

"Old Zou, bragging in front of the young people again?"

The newcomer spoke with a distinct western Henan accent and was about the same age as Zou Huofan, except he was balding, with sparse silver-gray hair on the left side combed to the right. He spoke to Zou Huofan, but his eyes were constantly sizing up Liu Yimin with a smile.

"Yimin, let me introduce you. This is Ge Luo, our deputy editor-in-chief. She's from Ruyang, so you're from the same hometown!"

"Hello, Editor-in-Chief Ge!" Liu Yimin stood up and shook hands.

"Yimin, hello there! The literary scene in Yanjing isn't big, but it's not easy to find someone from the same hometown. When I was young, I did underground anti-Japanese performances in my area, and I even went to your area. Don't call me editor-in-chief, Lao Zou and I are both deputy editors-in-chief, just call me Comrade Lao Ge!" Ge Luo carefully examined Liu Yimin through the mist, and when he saw a certain part of his body, his reaction was the same as Zou Huofan's.

When fellow villagers meet, their eyes well up with tears. But meeting a fellow villager in a bathhouse—isn't that a bit too blatant?
"Old Ge, I'm the first deputy editor-in-chief!" Zou Huofan said, feigning dissatisfaction, thus livening up the atmosphere.

"Zou, the First Deputy Editor-in-Chief." Ge Luo sat between the two, smiling as she looked at Zou Huofan.

"Comrade Ge Luo, please speak!"

"Comrade Liu Yimin has traveled a long way to Yanjing, and he must be exhausted from the journey. Shouldn't our editorial department provide some practical assistance? We could give him some living allowances, and bicycle tickets are a must. Otherwise, it will be inconvenient for him to come to our editorial department in the future, which will affect his submissions!"

"Old Ge, you've been waiting for me here. You should get it. I'll see if our Writers' Association or Trade Union has any tickets these next couple of days. Bicycle tickets are no problem. Other places might be short of them, but it's very easy to find a bicycle ticket in Beijing."

After Ge Luoyi's reminder, Zou Huofan realized that if he wanted to win Liu Yimin's heart, he really needed to help him a lot in his daily life.

Liu Yimin glanced gratefully at Ge Luo; it was great to have a fellow villager. Ge Luo casually wiped her face with her hand, stood up, and said, "Yimin, come and help this old man scrub his back!"

The editorial department of *Poetry Journal* deliberately kept the news of Liu Yimin's arrival in Yanjing a secret, but Cui Daoyi of *People's Literature and Art* had already received it and went directly to Liu Yimin's room at the guesthouse, staging a dramatic scene of "standing in the snow outside Liu's door." *Poetry Journal* wanted to cover up the news, but the literary scene in Yanjing was only so big, and besides, *People's Literature and Art* and *Poetry Journal* were practically neighbors, within earshot of each other.

On October 1st, this issue of "People's Literature" officially went on sale today, and Liu Yimin's second novel, "College Entrance Examination 1977," will also be put to the test by readers.

Cui Daoyi thought there was no problem. After all, it was the first novel about the college entrance examination, and the target audience would naturally empathize with it, not to mention others. The core audience consisted of millions of test takers and their parents.

Liu Yimin only opened the door after everyone in the editorial department had started work. He had slept too long during the day yesterday and didn't fall asleep until very late last night, waking up at almost 9 o'clock.

"you are?"

When Liu Yimin opened the door, the middle-aged man standing in front of him startled him. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, blue coarse cloth trousers, and cloth shoes with thick soles, and wore black glasses.

His features are well-defined and prominent, making him look like a diplomat.

"Comrade Liu Yimin?" Cui Daoyi asked, looking at the young man in front of him with a puzzled expression.

"Yes, I am Liu Yimin!"

Cui Daoyi happily grasped Liu Yimin's hands with both of them: "Comrade Liu Yimin, hello, I am Cui Daoyi from People's Literature and Art. I heard you came yesterday, so I came to visit you early this morning. The comrades at the guesthouse said you are very young, and I thought they were joking."

Liu Yimin smiled and invited Cui Daoyi into the house, then opened the windows to ventilate the room.

"Comrade Liu Yimin, call me Lao Cui. Speaking of which, I'm your senior. I joined People's Literature after graduating from the Chinese Department in 56. We should keep in touch. Even before you arrived, you've already caused quite a stir in the literary circles of Yenching. Many people are asking our editorial department about you."

As Cui Daoyi spoke, he took a sample copy of this issue of "People's Literature and Art" out of his bag and handed it to Liu Yimin.

"As a novel about the college entrance examination in 1977, our editorial department has high hopes for it. Our editor-in-chief, Comrade Lao Zhang, who is also in charge of the Writers Association, praised your novel for being very distinctive and having a more warm feeling compared to current literary works. After the publication of 'The Wounded,' few novels are willing to mention the story of mutual help among people during difficult years."

"Old Cui, thank you for the editorial team's recognition. I just feel that our purpose in looking back is not to criticize, but to move forward. For us, the future is more important!"

"It's good that the future is more important. Your statement aligns with another view in the literary world, although both of these views are still emerging. Yimin, as your senior, I must advise you: as your works gain more and more influence in the future, you should still be cautious in certain aspects and not easily step into the vortex."

Cui Daoyi didn't express his meaning very clearly, but Liu Yimin understood. He had learned about it when he studied modern literature in the Chinese literature department in his previous life. During this period and afterward, there were ideological debates in the literary world about literary works, which were roughly about whether to praise or criticize, whether to praise virtue or be immoral, and so on.

"Thank you, senior brother!"

"Yimin, do you have any writing ideas for the future? Let me take a look." Cui Daoyi had been staring at the manuscript papers on the desk ever since he came in.

"This is a topic I just came up with last night; I've only written a rough outline of the story!"

Cui Daoyi took the manuscript and glanced at it carefully: "It's about dogs?"

(End of this chapter)