Chapter 10: The Literary Tycoon's Attention

After shelling the edamame, Chen Qiaoqiao made sure her sister wasn't playing the piano, knocked on the bedroom door and entered her room.

By the bedroom windowsill, a woman about twenty‑four or twenty‑five, dressed in a sky‑blue silk gown, with flawless features and skin like coagulated cream, had just finished playing and was sitting at the table, flexing her long, slightly sore fingers.

Standing 1.74 m tall, with a sculpted, perfect face and a head of dark hair tied into an elegant bun, she exuded a beauty that warned strangers to keep their distance.

On the desk, besides an accordion, lay several jade hairpins of varying styles, their luster clear and cool.

"Sister, thanks to you for getting me out of that jam earlier."

Chen Qiaoqiao leaned in attentively and helped Chen Yixue tidy the hairpins on the table, saying, "You look really beautiful in that outfit."

"Just say what you want; it's obviously not just to flatter me."

Chen Yixue stretched her delicate jade‑like hands and replied without looking up.

Chen Qiaoqiao gave an embarrassed smile, opened a drawer, placed the jade hairpin into a jewelry box, then leaned over the table toward her sister.

"You must have heard everything. I'm not currently looking for a partner, right? Mom is biased against the guy and doesn't approve of us."

"I want to ask you for help to get Mom to drop her prejudice."

"She listens to you at home; once you speak up, it will definitely work."

Chen Qiaoqiao said hopeful, blinking her bright, watery eyes and showing a pleading look.

Chen Yixue remained completely unmoved.

"What does this have to do with me? I don't even date, let alone meddle in your affairs."

She closed her eyes, lightly parting her red lips: "Your guy must be truly capable; even if Mom disapproves, he could still marry you."

"If he's not capable, marrying him will bring suffering, and you'll end up a laughingstock."

As the star performer of the Cultural Troupe, Chen Yixue has witnessed many members' marriages over the years.

These youthful, beautiful women, some chose to marry for love and ended up with penniless boys; others sought upward matches and married the children of high‑ranking officials.

From what she saw, those who married poor boys often lost passion after marriage, couldn't endure life's hardships, and eventually divorced. Others, fearing others' eyes, refused to divorce, grinding their teeth; each once‑like‑a‑flower maiden was worn down by poverty into a sallow‑faced wife.

Those who married the children of officials faced similarly tragic fates. Some husbands' families fell from power during the past two years, their household fortunes collapsed, and marital strife led to divorce.

Even among families still holding high positions, many wives were left alone in empty rooms as their husbands fell into vices—gambling, chasing women—turning once‑cheerful, sunny girls into resentful wives.

Given this, Chen Yixue chose a path of neither seeking a partner nor marrying, and by age twenty‑four her love life remained blank.

Since she herself doesn't marry, Chen Yixue is even too lazy to meddle in her younger sister's love life, letting her do as she pleases.

"Sister..."

Chen Qiaoqiao, still disappointed but unwilling to give up, said, "My guy is truly talented, the kind that dazzles you. You'll know as soon as you see him."

"If I can't stay with him till the end, I'll be hurt for life."

"And just for his talent, you should say something to persuade Mom for us."

Talent? Dazzling? Chen Yixue heard that and a faint smile tugged at her lips: she's been in the nation's top Cultural Troupe, hasn't she seen every kind of talented man?

A poet who has published many pieces in the "Poetry Journal" and a lyricist famed for making gods shudder, she doesn't think her sister's guy can truly reach a level that would dazzle her.

"Whether talented or not, you have to see it in person for it to count."

"I'm about to get busy; we'll talk later."

"Remember to close the door."

After saying that, Chen Yixue opened a drawer, took out a performance schedule, and began to study it carefully.

Chen Qiaoqiao, disappointed, stood up, shuffled out, and at the doorway, before leaving, reminded, "We agreed—when I take you to meet him."

"When the time comes, if you think he's exceptionally cultured, remember to help persuade Mom."

"Mm‑mm."

Chen Yixue gave a perfunctory answer, genuinely not believing such a possibility existed.

By the windowsill table, Chen Yixue stared intently at the performance schedule, jotting notes from time to time, using it to plan her training for the coming period.

Among all performances, the most important is the July 1st Tribute Performance; in past years it was the highlight, and this year marks the 30th anniversary of the nation's founding.

Thinking of this performance, Chen Yixue couldn't help but furrow her elegant brows, a trace of worry appearing on her stunning face.

According to superiors' orders, this year's show must showcase innovation. As the lead vocalist, Chen Yixue must present a new song, so she began composing music half a year ago.

All these years, Chen Yixue has written her own lyrics, and the results have been fairly good.

But this time she felt creatively exhausted; after months of racking her brain, she still couldn't produce a satisfactory piece.

The lyricists in the troupe who pride themselves as talented sent her many lyrics in an eager bid for favor, but Chen Yixue dismissed them, feeling they fell far short of her ideal.

The lyric issue has troubled Chen Yixue for a long time. As the meticulous lead singer of the Cultural Troupe, she wants to deliver the perfect piece at this rare 30th‑anniversary milestone.

At this moment, inside the Jiafu Building of Qinghua University for faculty and staff families.

Xu Yuexin, his father Xu Qiang, mother Wu Yan, and his younger sister were having dinner together, the family enthusiastically discussing his upcoming novel publication.

Xu Yuexin's father, Xu Qiang, is a science teacher at Qinghua University; he was promoted to full professor in the 1950s, but after publishing an article claiming that grain yields could not reach ten thousand jin per mu, he was demoted to lecturer, later sent to do manual labor, and only returned last year.

After resuming work, Xu Qiang's title remained lecturer; half of his issues have been resolved, the other half remain historical leftovers awaiting solution.

After the meal, Xu Yuexin began humming a familiar song.

"Our hometown,

on the fields of hope…"

"Nice song, where did you learn it?"

At that moment, Xu Qiang set down his chopsticks, looking interested, and said,

"I just made it up myself."

Xu Yuexin stopped humming and replied to his father,

"Great, during the time in the countryside you turned yourself into a versatile person—able to write novels and also songs."

"If you can achieve something, I, as a father, no longer have to worry."

Xu Qiang wore a satisfied smile, proud of his son, and said, "By the way, when will that novel be published?"

I estimate it can be published in the next issue.

Xu Yuexin likewise said with anticipation.

At this moment, inside the People's Literature Editorial Department, the lights were blazing.

The May issue's manuscript review deadline was approaching, and the editors were working overtime to review submissions, ensuring the pieces could be published on schedule.

Under the warm glow of a small desk lamp, Group Leader Wang Chaoyin scribbled furiously, writing an editor's commentary for Xu Yuexin's article "The Flower Wreath Under the High Mountain".

"This is a dazzling novel; the author presents the most sacred, lofty, and beautiful aspects of humanity before us, just like the brilliant May sunshine."

"At the same time, the author's refusal to shy away from darkness is commendable. One must know that when various petty, unscrupulous darkness is exposed to sunlight, it does not dim the sun; on the contrary, it leaves the darkness with nowhere to hide, utterly eradicated!"

"Long live the People, long live the Motherland, and long live the heroes who sacrifice their heads and shed hot blood for the People and the Motherland on the front lines!"

As Wang Chaoyin's pen danced like a soaring dragon, thousands of words of commentary sprang onto the paper.

After ending with three consecutive "long live", Wang Chaoyin leisurely set down his Hero Emblem Fountain Pen, feeling the obstacles in his heart completely vanished, his mood exceedingly carefree.

There is a kind of novel, and there is a matching editor's commentary.

After Wang Chaoyin received Xu Yuexin's submitted piece "The Flower Wreath Under the High Mountain", he could not put the manuscript down, reading it over and over.

Moved by the novel's brilliant plot and its lofty heroic inspiration, Wang Chaoyin, for the first time in his life, understood what is called "March without knowing the taste of meat".

The novel fully stirred his inner sentiments, and a series of characters such as Liang Sanxi, Jin Kailai, Xiao Bejing and others left a deep imprint in his heart.

"Chaoyin, we promised to have a beer together tonight; why haven't I seen you?"

At that moment, a familiar voice came from behind him.

Wang Chaoyin turned around, his face still bearing the excitement after reading the piece "High Mountain".

"I received an outstanding manuscript and was busy writing the editor's commentary; sorry for breaking our appointment."

Wang Chaoyin's eyes burned, and he said excitedly, "If you're not busy, just wait a moment. I'll finish reviewing the commentary; if all is well, the two of us can go have a drink."

"Yo, what kind of great article could keep the Beer King of People's Literature so busy that he forgets to drink?"

Wang Meng, hearing this, laughed, stepped forward to look at the desk, and muttered about Xu Yuexin's manuscript, "Hmm? 'The Flower Wreath Under the High Mountain'?"

(End of chapter)