Chapter 11: A New Breeze in the Literary World Dispels the Mists of Scar Literature

The title style is rather distinctive; it doesn't seem to be the recently popular Scar Literature.

"Brother, you look at it yourself; I won't reveal the plot."

Wang Chaoyin pulled a chair from beside him, excitement shining in his eyes, and said, "I can only assure you that this is a work that will leave an unforgettable impression."

Wang Meng let out a "Hmm" as he sat down, picked up Xu Yuexin's manuscript, opened to the cover, and read attentively.

Wang Chaoyin watched Wang Meng's facial expressions the whole time, hoping to find resonance in his old friend.

Wang Meng's expression was focused, his gaze fixed on the manuscript throughout, and he occasionally gave a slight nod as the pages turned.

When he reached certain scenes—such as Liang Sanxi giving up his vacation, or Zhao Mengsheng being harshly rebuked and writing a Blood War Letter—his eyes lingered for a moment, as if chewing over them repeatedly.

Seeing his old friend's demeanor, Wang Chaoyin knew he was captivated by the work, and he smiled knowingly.

"So, Liang Sanxi and Zhao Mengsheng were actually milk brothers who grew up drinking Liang Da Niang's breast milk together."

At the ending, Wang Meng seemed to be speaking to Wang Chaoyin, yet also muttering to himself.

He had thought that the sacrifices of Liang Sanxi, Jin Kailai, Xiao Bejing and others were already the climax of the whole book.

Little did he know, the even more unforgettable part lay later.

As an underground Communist Party member who had joined the revolution in the 1940s, Wang Meng, when he saw Liang Da Niang come to the unit to handle her son's affairs and recalled the wartime scenes of soldiers and civilians united against the enemy, the image that rose in his mind was of himself being shielded by the masses, evading enemy searches.

The novel's writing technique is exceptionally brilliant; through the character Liang Da Niang, it links today, forty years later, with the glorious years of the War of Resistance Period, interwoven with the Liberation War and a series of major events that occurred in the Post-foundation Years.

Undoubtedly, this is a superb, heart‑moving work, a chronicle of the nation.

Its ideological realm and depth of content are far beyond what ordinary works can compare with.

After finishing reading, Wang Meng's thoughts had already extended to far more profound realms.

Wang Meng still holds the title of member of the People's Literature Editorial Committee. His work focus has shifted to the Jingcheng Writers Association, and he was recently appointed Vice Chairman of the Association, awaiting the completion of procedures before the announcement.

Having a position changes one's perspective. Wang Meng now thinks more about the future direction of literary trends and how to use excellent works to usher in wholesome literary fashions.

At present, the domestic literary scene is still dominated by Scar Literature. Wang Meng has keenly realized that this trend is unsustainable and that efforts must be made to uncover works with new styles and new ideas.

The piece "The Flower Garland Under the High Mountain" perfectly matches the ideal work Wang Meng envisions.

Perhaps the breeze that will bring fresh air to the literary world will start blowing from "The Flower Garland Under the High Mountain".

"Chaoyin, what's the author's name for this book?" Wang Meng asked after a moment of careful thought, putting down the manuscript.

"His name is Xu Yuexin, he's very young, and his home is right here in our Jing."

"What, do you want to meet him through literature, get to know him?"

"I do have that intention. However, it's not just about meeting through literature. I endorse your judgment; 'The Flower Garland Under the High Mountain' is an extraordinary work, and its publication will inevitably cause a huge societal response."

"I want to jointly monitor this article's social impact with you, seizing the moment to guide it. As for the guiding method, we can discuss it later."

Wang Meng said calmly, seeking Wang Chaoyin's opinion, "What do you think? A literary newcomer stirring up a fresh breeze certainly deserves attention."

"I agree with you. However... you say Xu Yuexin is a new author?"

Wang Chaoyin was startled and said, He had always thought Xu Yuexin was a veteran of the literary world, capable of producing such a mature and excellent work.

Wang Meng nodded, "That's right; he truly is a newcomer. At first I wasn't sure, but after you mentioned his home is in Jing, I could conclude it."

"I work at the City Writers Association and have never heard of such a figure."

The Jingcheng Writers Association oversees literary affairs across the city; any author with a hint of fame, whether or not they have joined the Association, is on their watch list.

Wang Meng said that not having seen Xu Yuexin's name proves he is indeed making his first appearance.

Hearing Wang Meng's affirmation, Wang Chaoyin gradually convinced himself to accept the fact that Xu Yuexin truly is a new author.

"The spring wind blows, bamboo shoots break through the soil, growing astonishingly."

Wang Chaoyin, with a double meaning, remarked, "In my view, this bamboo could someday shoot straight into the clouds; it's not impossible."

"Plant a thousand‑foot bamboo, and only then will the whole garden be spring."

Wang Meng likewise replied with a double entendre, "I want to quickly see what kind of thousand‑foot wave Xu Yuexin's pen will stir up."

As the bright lights first lit up, the two old friends stepped out of Chaonei 166 Hao Dayuan, still enthusiastically discussing Xu Yuexin's work along the way.

……

A few days later, a new issue of People's Literature completed printing and distribution; the magazine, exuding the fresh scent of ink, was shipped to major bookstores, post offices, and newsstands across the country.

(End of Chapter)