Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

"President, how should we decide on the general layout?" Zheng Xiaowen asked.

"The layout should be like this," Han Fei said, picking up a pen and paper and sketching a draft. "The top right corner will have the Qingniao New Rural Novel Competition printed on it, and the awards and titles in the middle. At the bottom, add a line of small print: Qingniao's First · Founder of New Rural Literature. As for the awards, there will be one Qingniao Gold Medal Writer, three Silver Medals, five Bronze Medals, and the rest will be Qingniao Outstanding Writers. Leave the space for the author's pen name blank; I'll write it by hand."

"Okay, President," Zheng Xiaowen said. "I'll get to it right now; it'll be done in half an hour."

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Teacher Zheng." Han Fei smiled, glanced at his watch, and said, "Teacher Chen, I'll contact Director Jin now to see if it can be printed by tomorrow morning."

Chen Jianguo nodded and picked up the phone to make a call.

Lu Hai clicked his tongue: "President, I still think a certificate is a bit shabby. How about... we frame it?"

"Lu Hai's idea is great," Zhang Meimei said. "I know people at the wholesale market who sell ordinary wooden picture frames for just a few yuan each. I can call them tomorrow morning and have them deliver twenty before noon."

Han Fei nodded: "Alright. The money will come from the public account; it's time to spend it."

"President," Chen Jianguo said, hanging up the phone, "Director Jin is fine. As long as we can send the documents over before 10 o'clock, they can be printed by noon."

"Okay, then take the document back with you once Teacher Zheng has finished it, and go directly to the printing factory tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

"Everyone, go back and rest," Han Fei said. "I will send a notification to the authors' group that an awards ceremony will be held at the publishing house tomorrow afternoon."

After everyone left the publishing house, Han Fei went to the conference room and asked Wen Jie to retrieve the individual data sheets for "Living as a Widow," which were then printed out. He then returned to his office, sat down at his desk, and turned on his computer. The CPU emitted a deep, whirring sound, like a tenderly affectionate cat.

Soft footsteps came from the doorway.

"I knew you'd still be here."

Han Fei looked up and saw Zhang Ruiyi standing at the door, the light from a single light bulb shining on her face. She was holding a plastic bag containing two steaming cups.

"Why haven't you gone back yet?" Han Fei asked.

"You still have the car keys." Zhang Ruiyi walked in and placed one of the cups in front of him. "There's a place downstairs selling hot soy milk on the street. Drinking this will help you sleep."

"real?"

"Um."

"That's great." Han Fei picked up the cup and took a sip, letting the soy milk swirl in his mouth, its warm and mellow aroma filling his nostrils. He logged into QQ and opened the "Bluebird Author's Home" group chat.

Zhang Ruiyi leaned towards the screen: "Do you want to notify the author now?"

Han Fei glanced at his watch: "It's only a little past nine, not bad. Most writers don't go to bed early."

In the "Bluebird Authors' Home" group chat, there were still over twenty profile pictures lit up. Han Fei scrolled up through the group chat message history. Some people were discussing recent data, some were asking when the competition results would be released, and someone even posted a few lines from Leslie Cheung's "Silence is Golden": "It's all predetermined whether you're rich or poor..."

Han Fei created a new announcement window, paused for two seconds on the keyboard, and then quickly typed: "The winners of the 'New Rural Fiction Competition' have been finalized. The following twenty authors are requested to attend the awards ceremony tomorrow afternoon at 3 PM in the conference room on the third floor of Qingniao Publishing House. Certificates will be awarded and details of future collaborations will be announced at the ceremony. The list is as follows: Lao Huai, Ciwei, Yecao, Heitu, Langli Baitiao..."

Please arrive on time. If you are unable to attend due to special circumstances, please send a private message to editor Lu Hai to explain.

The moment he typed "send," the group chat erupted in excitement.

Hedgehog: "Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!! What did I just see?!"

Hongxiu: "President Han!!! Did I!!! Did I!!!"

Old Huai: "President Han... I'll definitely arrive early tomorrow, even though I'm an old man!"

White Streak in the Waves: "I'm on the list? I'm on it, right? I saw it! I saw it!!"

Mountain Villager: "@Bluebird·Han Fei, are you deliberately trying to keep us awake by releasing this announcement at this hour?!"

Half a cup of tea: "I can't sleep, I can't sleep! I'm going to shake my cat awake to celebrate!!!"

Zhang Ruiyi chuckled: "This isn't a notification, it's like dropping a bomb."

"Writers sometimes need this kind of stimulation. Let them be excited for a night, so they'll be in the right state of mind tomorrow." Han Fei logged out of QQ, shut down the computer, took out his car keys from his pocket and handed them to Zhang Ruiyi. "Okay, let's go back now."

He stood up, lifted the lid off the cup, and drank the soy milk in one gulp.

......

The ringtone of his cell phone drifted in and out on the wind. Han Fei opened his eyes, and all he saw was a blinding white light. White sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the fluttering white curtains, its shimmering light like Morse code. White walls, a white ceiling, and white bedding gently and coolly pressed against his warm skin.

He turned over, picked up his phone from the bedside table, and answered the call. Thirty seconds later, he hung up, glanced at his watch—6:35.

The call was from Wen Jie, reporting on the conversion rate of the 30 push notifications from last night. It was certainly a satisfactory number, or to be more precise, just as he had expected, a number that didn't disappoint. Otherwise, Wen Jie wouldn't have sounded so excited, his voice so enthusiastic, and he certainly wouldn't have called so early to wake him up.

He closed his eyes and reviewed the number: 15.7%. Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom.

The bathroom was also white: white tiles, white porcelain. He took a cold shower and unconsciously started singing an old song by The The band.

"...A perfect day!"

The bath towel was white too. He used the thick cotton towel to dry himself, getting his blood circulating, while examining his face in the mirror. He was happy now, wasn't he? He was happy now. He smiled at the face in the mirror. The face smiled back at him. Ekman and Friesen studied this. If you smile at the world, the world will smile back at you.

He burst into laughter, wrapped a towel around his waist, and, with his wet feet, slowly walked through the corridor into the bedroom.

He pulled out the blue striped suit Zhang Ruiyi had given him from his closet, put it on, closed the door, took the elevator downstairs, and stepped into the sunlight. It took him a few seconds to realize he hadn't eaten breakfast. He went to a breakfast stall by the roadside. The stall owner smiled at him. He smiled back. The stall owner lifted the lid of the steamer. The steam rising from the steamer seemed to be edged with gold in the sunlight.

"So early?" the stall owner said. "What would you like to eat?"

"Thirty steamed buns and fifteen cups of soy milk, please," Han Fei said.

"So many?"

Han Fei smiled slightly: "The steamed buns and soy milk are especially fragrant today."