1979: Reopening Wenhao Road from the Village

"Hello comrade, I'm looking for editor Zhang Shouren, but I don't know who you are?"

Just as Chen Weidong arrived at the entrance of the wooden building, he saw a middle-aged man wearing glasses coming out.

"Let me take you in. Are you an author whose manuscript has been accepted?"

Zhang Zhong'e originally planned to eat at the cafeteria, but when she saw Chen Weidong carrying large bags, she guessed that he was an author from out of town.

"Yes, my name is Chen Weidong. One of my articles has been accepted. This time, editor Zhang Shouren asked me to come and revise the manuscript."

"You're Chen Weidong, the author of 'The Horse Herder'?!"

Zhang Zhong'e turned to look at Chen Weidong in surprise. He was wearing a military green top, wide-legged trousers, and his own handmade cloth shoes. He was tall and looked quite dashing.

He felt as if Xu Lingjun from the story had come to life.

"Yes, I am Chen Weidong."

Chen Weidong nodded, but he had some doubts in his heart.

"Comrade Chen Weidong, your novel 'The Horse Herder' is so moving that it made me cry when I read it."

Zhang Zhong'e immediately said enthusiastically.

"Old Zhang, Comrade Chen Weidong, the author of 'The Herdsman,' has arrived."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone in the office, whether they were reading manuscripts or preparing to pack up for lunch, immediately looked over.

Zhang Shouren stood up, looked at the young man behind Zhang Zhong'e, and greeted him warmly: "Hello, Comrade Weidong, I am Zhang Shouren. You must be tired from your journey. Please have a seat and let me pour you some water."

"Thanks."

Chen Weidong took the water glass and thanked him.

"Editor Zhang, how would you like to revise this article?"

As he spoke, he pulled out the original manuscript of "The Horseman".

"Your novel, 'The Horse Herder,' is actually flawless in its overall direction, character portrayal, and plot. It's just that the writing needs to be more concise, and there are some grammatical errors. Look here..."

Zhang Shouren pointed out the parts that needed to be modified one by one, which was also a point that Chen Weidong had always lacked. If someone had given him guidance like this in his previous life, he might have finally figured it out.

However, Chen Weidong also offered his own opinions in some areas, sticking to his own views and not making any changes.

"Oh dear, I got so busy I forgot the time. Comrade Weidong, let me take you to eat first, then find you a room so you can get some rest."

"No need to trouble Editor Zhang, I'll just go home and stay there later."

"Is Comrade Weidong also a local?"

"Yes, but I was sent to the countryside a few years ago. I'm taking advantage of this trip back to visit my hometown."

"That's true, but you'll all be back soon."

Returning to one's hometown might be a big deal in Yangjiatun, but in Yanjing, it's already common news.

The two went to the canteen, ordered two servings of stew, and four "two-sided" steamed buns made from a mixture of wheat flour and corn flour. The stew wasn't the same as the potatoes and cabbage served in the countryside; in addition, there was tofu and vermicelli, and you could see oil droplets, which meant it had been oiled.

Seeing that Chen Weidong had finished his meal, Zhang Shouren asked, "Would you like another serving?"

He was already used to this way of eating; some writers from other places even ate more than Chen Weidong.

"No need, I'm already full."

Chen Weidong waved his hand, "I'll finish revising the manuscript in the next day or two and send it back to you."

"No rush. By the way, Comrade Weidong, give me your train ticket from here. I'll submit it for you first, and then I'll send it to you together with your royalties."

"Thank you, Editor Zhang."

Chen Weidong immediately handed the other person the train ticket, and even the bus ticket he had taken, since every penny counts.

As Chen Weidong left the editorial office of "October," he saw a rickshaw running towards him.

"Master, are you going to No. 17 Mao'er Hutong?"

"Are you coming, Sanmao?"

"Can you make it cheaper, two cents?"

"Two and a half cents, I guess."

Chen Weidong nodded, and the driver immediately slapped the seat cushion: "Please get in."

"Comrade, are you here to visit relatives or for work?"

"Work, and I'll visit home while I'm at it."

"Oh, so you're a local too!"

"I guess so, but it feels like Yanjing hasn't changed much in the last few years."

"Then you are wrong. The changes in recent years have been particularly significant. Take the winter before last when the college entrance examination was reinstated, for example. On that day, about 100,000 candidates flocked to more than 80 test centers. The scene was quite sensational."

Last year, a batch of residential slab buildings were just completed in Qianmen. I heard that you can use the toilet and cook at home.

The new runway at the airport is also finished, allowing direct flights to international destinations. I've even given rides to several foreigners—blue eyes, blond hair, and curly hair.

The rickshaw drivers were particularly good at chatting. Chen Weidong felt that whether it was the taxi drivers or the rickshaw drivers, they were all masters of conversation.

"Look at those people over there, this is all the rage in Yanjing now, it's fashionable!"

Chen Weidong glanced to the side and saw several young people walking towards him. They were all wearing sheepskin hats, wool scarves, military coats, and imported sunglasses.

This reminded him of his past life. When he returned to Beijing, he was not assigned a job and spent his days idly, wearing similar clothes with a group of unemployed people in the compound. Such attire was once the favorite of fashionable young people in Beijing.

"That's really stylish!"

The two walked and talked, and soon arrived at Mao'er Hutong. Chen Weidong paid the bill and looked around as he slowly walked home.

Mao'er Hutong is located in the northwest of Dongcheng District, starting from Nanluoguxiang in the east and ending at Di'anmenwai Street in the west. It connects to Doujiao Hutong in the north and Dongbuyaqiao Hutong in the south. It is 585 meters long and 7 meters wide.

During the Ming Dynasty, this place was called Zitong Temple Wenchang Palace Alley. In the Qing Dynasty, it was renamed Mao'er Alley because there was a hat-making workshop there, and the name has been passed down to this day.

Nos. 7-13 Mao'er Hutong is the old residence of Wen Yu, a Grand Secretary of the Wuying Hall. It consists of five courtyards connected in parallel, covering a total area of ​​11000 square meters. Its large scale is very rare among existing private residences.

This house was sold by its descendants to Feng Guozhang, an important figure in the Beiyang government, and later, during the Japanese occupation, it belonged to Zhang Lanfeng, the commander of the puppet army. After liberation, the house was divided and used as dormitories for different units, and courtyards No. 9 and No. 11 were even converted into the Korean Embassy in China.

Numbers 35 and 37 belong to the maternal family of the last empress, Wanrong, and are known as the Cheng'en Duke's Mansion, commonly referred to as the Empress's Mansion. Number 45 was originally the office of a Qing Dynasty military governor.

……

Having weathered the passage of time, the walls of Mao'er Hutong are now mostly made of gray bricks or mottled old bricks, with some walls plastered with mortar, and many places showing the gaps between the bricks due to years of disrepair. The roofs are covered with gray tiles, some of which are missing, and weeds grow on the eaves.

Door frames and window sills are mostly dark brown or faded wooden structures, and window paper has mostly been replaced by glass, although the glass may be dusty or cracked. Occasionally, remnants of traditional carvings can be seen on the lintels, but many details have been simplified or destroyed in the past.

The entrances to traditional courtyard houses often have simple wooden or tin doors with severely worn thresholds. Some retain brick screen walls, but the calligraphy and paintings on them are mostly blurred or covered with slogans.

It was afternoon, and there weren't many people in the courtyard. Most of them were elderly people or women, and there were also some children playing in the courtyard. When they saw Chen Weidong come in, they stared at him with great curiosity.

……