Ordinary World: Starting with a divorce from Tian Runye

Footsteps finally echoed at the stairwell at the end of the corridor.

Gao Fengge walked over from around the corner. He was in his early fifties, not very tall, but his back was very straight. He wore a white shirt, the top button fastened meticulously. He carried a file folder in his hand and had a smile on his face.

Qi Wen stood up from a distance.

"Secretary Gao."

As soon as Gao Fengge saw him, his smile deepened, and he quickly walked closer.

"Oh dear, Wen Yuan!"

Gao Fengge grabbed Qi Wenyuan's hand tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Xiao Zhou already told me that he's kept me waiting."

"Come on in, have a seat."

Gao Fengge opened the office door and let Qi Wenyuan in. The office wasn't large, but it was neatly organized. On the desk sat an enamel mug painted with peonies, and on the wall hung a map of Huangyuan.

Gao Fengge poured Qi Wenyuan a cup of tea, then picked up his enamel mug, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair.

"Wen Yuan, I read the poem 'North' that you recited at the symposium at the Huangyuan Hotel several times after I got back."

He tilted his head slightly, squinted his eyes, and slowly recited.

"Only those whose spines do not bend deserve to stand in the wind and sing. What a beautiful sentence. It captures the backbone of the people of Huangyuan. Secretary Miao also said something similar, saying that the cadres of Huangyuan must have the unyielding spirit to stand tall. You see, great minds think alike."

Qi Wenyuan smiled.

"Secretary Gao, you flatter me. Secretary Miao's words are guiding principles, while my poem is merely a personal reflection and I dare not compare it to Secretary Miao's."

"You're being modest, you're being modest."

Gao Fengge waved his hand, smiling amicably.

"Cultural work is a banner for Huangyuan. Secretary Miao has repeatedly emphasized that we cannot relax our efforts on the cultural front for a moment. Your Huangyuan Poetry Society has done a good job, with the right direction and a firm stance. You, as the president, have made invaluable contributions."

The two chatted back and forth, their smiles warm and friendly.

After drinking half a cup of tea and exchanging pleasantries, Qi Wenyuan put down his teacup and subtly changed the subject.

"Secretary Gao, the poetry society held a literary discussion in Yuanxi County a few days ago. I don't know if you've heard about it."

"Oh? I've heard some of it. How is it?"

"Overall it was a success. The communication was very thorough."

Qi Wenyuan smiled.

"However, some of the young people's speeches at the discussion were, well, enthusiastic but lacking in tact. One colleague from the former Xixian County Cultural Center raised some views on literature and economics, saying something about advocating for ordinary people to pursue a better life. The starting point may have been good, but the wording was not careful enough and could easily be misinterpreted."

Qi Wenyuan paused, glanced at Gao Fengge, and then continued.

"I don't really care. Young people have their own ideas, that's normal. It's just that Editor-in-Chief Jia is planning to compile the discussion into an article and publish it in the next issue of Huangyuan Literature. I told Editor-in-Chief Jia that the timing might not be appropriate, but he didn't think there was any problem."

Qi Wenyuan shrugged, his expression helpless.

"I can't say much more."

Gao Fengge narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Speaking out for ordinary people's pursuit of a prosperous life?"

He placed the enamel mug on the table and tapped it lightly twice with his fingers.

"This formulation is indeed inappropriate. The spirit of the higher authorities is still being studied and implemented, and the statements at all levels must be consistent. Literary journals are propaganda platforms, so they must be rigorous."

"A high-ranking official is coming down to inspect soon. Today, Secretary Miao convened the Standing Committee to discuss the issue of receiving the leader. At this critical juncture, how can the propaganda front have any problems?"

"Why is Old Jia getting more and more senile as he gets older?"

After saying that, he picked up the phone on the table.

Qi Wenyuan sat opposite him, picked up his teacup and took a sip.

The phone was shaken a few times before it was answered.

"Comrade Jia Bing? This is Gao Fengge."

On the other end of the phone, Jia Bing was revising a manuscript. Upon hearing those three words, her pen paused.

"Hello, Secretary Gao."

Gao Fengge spoke in a very amiable tone.

"Comrade Jia Bing, I heard you're planning to publish an article about a literary discussion in the next issue?"

"Yes, Secretary Gao. A few days ago, the Huangyuan Poetry Society held a symposium in Yuanxi County, and I compiled a factual article about it..."

"Yes, that's great enthusiasm. However, I heard that some of the speeches at the symposium were not mature enough. If this kind of content is published, it could easily mislead readers. 'Huangyuan Literature' is the only literary journal in our Huangyuan area, representing the image of Huangyuan's cultural circles. As the editor-in-chief, you need to be clear about what to publish and what not to publish."

"Secretary Gao, your speech was generally within the framework of the topic and did not go too far. I think it is okay to publish it. This also shows the positive side of us Huangyuan cultural workers."

Upon hearing this, Gao Fengge's smile vanished instantly, replaced by displeasure.

"Is advocating for individuals to pursue a wealthy life also a positive aspect?"

"Pursuing only personal gain while disregarding collective interests—this kind of trend not only needs to be suppressed but also cracked down on. You, Lao Jia, have been a cultural worker for over twenty years; do I really need to remind you?"

Gao Fengge pressed Jia Bing with two questions, leaving Jia Bing speechless.

"Secretary Gao, I understand."

Gao Fengge gave a couple more instructions before hanging up the phone.

Qi Wenyuan put down his teacup and stood up.

"Secretary Gao is busy, so I won't bother you any longer."

"Not busy, not busy."

Gao Fengge stood up and saw him to the door, patting him on the shoulder.

"Wen Yuan, keep writing poetry. You young people are the future of Huangyuan culture. Your question today was very timely, and on behalf of the comrades from the Huangyuan Prefectural Committee Propaganda Department, I would like to thank you."

"Secretary Gao, you're too kind. Every cultural worker in Huangyuan has a responsibility and obligation to carry out cultural work."

Gao Fengge nodded, said "okay" twice, and then saw Qi Wenyuan out of the office.

……

Yuanxi County.

Today is Sunday, and the supply and marketing cooperative is unusually crowded; the counters are packed with people.

Li Xiangqian squeezed to the side of the counter, craning his neck to peer at the shelves inside. On the shelves were soy sauce, vinegar, salt, matches, soap, a few rolls of floral fabric, and a few pairs of liberation shoes, exactly the same as what he had seen last time.

Sister Zhang was weighing salt for an old man, adjusting the weight with one hand and holding the scale with the other, while muttering the weights.

"Sister Zhang."

"Wait."

After weighing the salt, Sister Zhang wrapped it in oil paper and handed it to the old man. He looked up and saw it was Li Xiangqian, and a smile spread across his face.

"It's you again. What do you want to buy?"

Do you sell butter here?

Sister Zhang's smile froze instantly. This son of the deputy director of the county revolutionary committee always seemed to deliberately ask about things she didn't know, as if he were intentionally coming to cause trouble.

What kind of oil?

"cream."

"cream?"

Sister Zhang turned her head and glanced at the shelves behind her: rapeseed oil, soy sauce, and a bucket of kerosene on the floor. She then turned back to look at Li Xiangqian.

"Never heard of it. Would you like some buckwheat oil?"

"It's not the same thing."

"Then that's not available. Why don't you go ask at the meat processing plant?"

Li Xiangqian sighed and paced around the counter. He practically knew the supply and marketing cooperative's product categories by heart; it was always the same old stuff. Forget cream, they didn't even have butter.

As he was walking out, a familiar voice came from the side.

"Brother Forward!"

Li Xiangqian looked back.

Wang Manyin!