1985, the year of the great writer, began with Infernal Affairs!

Kyoto, Nishi-ku, in a quiet alley.

At 5:30 p.m., He Chongshan pushed open the courtyard gate. It was a standard old Beijing courtyard house, not large in area, but well-organized.

There was an old locust tree in the courtyard, with a stone table and benches under it. The west wing belonged to his family; it had three rooms and a small kitchen.

He parked his bicycle under the eaves, locked it, tucked his briefcase under his arm, and held a bulging brown paper bag in his hand, the edges of which were a little frayed.

The sound of stir-frying came from inside the house, sizzling and the aroma of oil wafting out.

He Chongshan didn't go to the kitchen, but went straight into the study.

The study was small, with two large bookshelves against the wall, crammed full. Under the window was an old desk, piled with various books and manuscripts.

He Chongshan tossed his briefcase onto the chair, carefully placed the brown paper bag on the table, and slowly untied the string, taking out a stack of photocopy paper.

The paper was pale yellow, and the smell of ink hadn't completely dissipated. The top page had three words written on it: Infernal Affairs.

He Chongshan sat down, put on his reading glasses, and turned to the first page.

Actually, he had already finished reading the entire manuscript yesterday. He read it in the office from afternoon to evening, and he lost track of time. When he got home, his wife gave him a good scolding.

After reading it, he sat in his chair for a long time without moving, his mind filled with the characters in the story.

Chen Yongren, Liu Jianming, Han Chen, Officer Huang...

These characters are all flesh and blood, breathing and with a heartbeat.

Today at work, he kept getting distracted while reviewing manuscripts. He was reading a manuscript about educated youth returning to the city, and he kept thinking, "If Xie Lu were to write about this subject, how would he write it?"

While reading a manuscript about factory reform, I wondered how Lawyer Xie would handle the relationships between the characters.

He felt he was becoming a little obsessed.

So before leaving get off work, he made a special trip to the copy room. The publisher's copy machine was old-fashioned, bulky, and noisy.

He carefully placed Xie Lu's manuscript page by page into the printer, watching the photocopies emerge one by one. The ink smelled pungent, but he found it comforting.

After making the copies, he locked the original in a drawer, put the copies in a brown paper bag, and took them home.

Now, he's started watching again.

Start reading from the first page again.

He wasn't skipping around; he was watching from the beginning, wanting to re-experience Xie Lu's ability to foreshadow events.

Find all the foreshadowing that was laid long ago.

He Chongshan read very slowly, his fingers gently sliding across the paper, following his gaze.

Before I knew it, half an hour had passed.

The study was completely dark. The locust tree outside the window was just a black silhouette, swaying gently in the wind. In the distance, one could hear the voices of neighbors in the alley and the tinkling of bicycle bells.

He Chongshan looked at the Infernal Affairs manuscript on the paper, rubbed his temples, and felt somewhat emotional.

It's true what they say, comparisons are the thief of joy!

How could an 18-year-old rural kid write something like this?

He Chongshan shook his head helplessly.

Just now.

"He Chongshan!"

A loud shout came from outside the door; it was his wife, Shen Jingshu's, voice, tinged with anger.

He Chongshan then snapped out of his daze and quickly replied, "Yes!"

"Dinner's ready! I've called you so many times, didn't you hear me?" His wife's footsteps grew louder as the study door opened.

Shen Jingshu stood at the door, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. She was about forty-five years old, about 1.58 meters tall, with a slender figure. Her hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head. She had some wrinkles on her face, but her eyes were bright, revealing the unique charm of an intellectual woman.

Shen Jingshu comes from a scholarly family. She has been studying since childhood and now works in a library. Her work is much easier than He Chongshan's.

"I heard you, I heard you." He Chongshan quickly stood up.

"You heard me and aren't you coming out?" Shen Jingshu walked in and saw the manuscript on the table. "Reading a manuscript again? What manuscript are you so engrossed in? You were reading it all night last night, and you're still reading it after get off work today, not even eating dinner?"

He Chongshan chuckled sheepishly, "I just couldn't resist taking a second look when I saw a good manuscript."

"Even the best food needs to be eaten!" Shen Jingshu put down the spatula, walked to the table, and glanced at the manuscript. She also loved reading, but she wasn't as obsessed with literature as her husband. However, she was more pragmatic and felt that literature was spiritual nourishment, but even the best spiritual nourishment needed to fill one's stomach first.

"What kind of manuscript is this?"

Seeing He Chongshan so engrossed in a manuscript, Shen Jingshu became curious as well.

"The manuscript by a young man is really well written."

Seriously, Jing Shu, I've never seen a young person write so well in my entire life.

Shen Jingshu raised an eyebrow. She had been married to He Chongshan for so many years, and no one understood He Chongshan better than her.

He Chongshan is picky and rarely praises people.

For someone to say something like that, they must be extraordinary.

"How good is it?"

As she said this, Shen Jingshu had already moved closer.

He Chongshan picked up the manuscript, turned to the middle page, and pointed it out to her.

Shen Jingshu took it and read a few lines.

She read it very carefully, and after she finished, she remained silent for a while.

"It's good. The narration is clean and concise, without any unnecessary embellishment or affectation."

"Right!" He Chongshan exclaimed, as if he had found a kindred spirit, and immediately began to share his thoughts incessantly. "I knew it! And here, look at Liu Jianming's part..."

"Alright, alright, let's eat first, the food's getting cold."

"Let me watch for a little longer."

He Chongshan still wanted to try.

Shen Jingshu didn't say anything, but reached out and grabbed his ear.

He didn't really use much force, but the strength in his hand was considerable. He Chongshan cried out in pain and stood up with his head tilted to the side.

Shen Jingshu let go of her hand and plopped down on the ground: "Get up, go heat up your food and eat. Let me take a look."

He Chongshan rubbed his ears, then paused, startled: "Look?"

"Hmm, isn't it said that it's something that exists only in heaven and on earth? Let me see if what you're saying is true."

He Chongshan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He glanced at his wife, then at the manuscript, and finally nodded: "Okay, you see, I'll go reheat the food, Jinqiu's get out of class will be over soon."

He left the study and closed the door behind him.

While heating up the dishes, He Chongshan glanced towards the study.

The study door was ajar, and there was no sound from inside.

He Chongshan was itching to know what his wife had seen and what her reaction was.

Shen Jingshu comes from a family of scholars and has read just as many books as He Chongshan. She has also worked in a library for most of her life. She has read a lot and has a good eye for books. If she says something is good, it is absolutely true.

Once the dishes were heated up, He Chongshan served them and placed them on the table. He then turned and tiptoed to the study door, craning his neck to see what was going on inside.

Shen Jingshu was still sitting at her desk with the light on, the yellow glow illuminating the manuscript paper. She was very focused, her back ramrod straight, her head slightly bowed.