Chapter 3: The Power That Moves Hearts

After a warm friendly greeting, Xu Yuexin and Wang Chaoyin walked into the office building to the editorial department to discuss the article "Wreath Under the High Mountain".

In the editorial office, several young editors gathered around Wang Chaoyin's seat, trying to figure out what kind of work could astonish a veteran like Wang Chaoyin, who is so well‑read.

"Well written! It sings the praises of the soldiers fighting bloodily on the southern frontier. The piece is full of vigor from start to finish, and its ideas are deep."

"The author's arrangement is exquisite. Xiao BJ is Lei Junzhang's son, which is crucial. It shows that Lei Junzhang leads by example—while demanding others' sons go to the front, he also sent his own son, who ultimately died heroically."

"The novel does not shy away from exposing corrupt relationships and other ugly phenomena; its main tone is to uncover, in the face of the nation's great cause, the luminous side of human nature, which makes the characters appear even more noble by contrast."

The editors whispered to each other, repeatedly giving their approval, until footsteps sounded outside the editorial department.

Ahem.

When Wang Chaoyin reached the doorway of the editorial department, he deliberately made a noise, and the young editors, hearing the sound, scattered back to their work.

"Please, have a seat."

Walking to his place, Wang Chaoyin politely poured a cup of tea for Xu Yuexin and then sat down himself.

"The novel's subject is well chosen, its purpose profound, and its level outstanding. The plot twists are clever, the foreshadowing ample; many key passages—such as Zhao Mengsheng's transformation—are both unexpected and logical."

"The characters are three‑dimensional and fleshed out, full of blood and flesh. For example, Liang Sanxi, a grassroots commander from the countryside, indeed easily falls into financial hardship. Jin Kailai is exceptionally capable but, because of his personality, never gets promoted; such people are not rare in reality."

"The details also match military reality. Take marching, for instance: a civilian might think soldiers simply travel from one end of a map to the other as if walking on flat ground. Only those who have truly marched know that, especially on long treks through tropical regions, countless difficulties arise."

After sitting, Wang Chaoyin pushed the manuscript toward Xu Yuexin and, with excitement in his tone, asked, "Have you ever served in the army?"

Xu Yuexin shook his head and offered a casual excuse: "No, I haven't. I wrote it based on descriptions from war movies."

A few years ago, there weren't many films on screen, war movies dominated, and their content was generally realistic, suitable even as military teaching material.

Wang Chaoyin had only asked casually; after hearing Xu Yuexin's answer, he saw no problem and continued discussing the novel with him.

"I see. In my view, this novel can be published without a single word changed."

Tapping his fingers lightly on the table, Wang Chaoyin smiled broadly and said, "Works that depict the spirit so vividly are hard to come by…"

At that moment, someone beside them interjected.

"I just heard people talk about the content inside; the obvious problems are huge, making it unsuitable for publication."

"For example, there's a character named Jin Kailai who is said to be full of complaints and likes to mock superiors. How can such a person be presented as a positive role model?"

"And Zhao Mengsheng—he gets the most focus throughout the text. Why not write him as a towering figure from the start instead of portraying him initially as a prodigal son?"

The critic's voice was sharp and impatient, causing irritation.

The tone was a bit abrasive, with an imperious attitude and absurd mismatched accusations, reminding Xu Yuexin of some radicals from a few years ago.

Xu Yuexin shook his head; Wang Chaoyin, frowning opposite him, turned toward the speaker and launched an unrelenting rebuttal.

"If you haven't read the novel, don't make baseless comments; otherwise you're just being subjectively presumptuous."

"A great person once said, without investigation there is no right to speak. Changing it according to your ideas would only make the writing stiff, lacking twists and interest."

"This isn't the first time you've done this; in my opinion, you're a literary elementary student with a long way to go."

Wang Chaoyin spoke loudly, giving the critic no leeway.

His criticism clearly carried strong deterrence, and the other party fell silent immediately.

Then Wang Chaoyin turned back, and with a pleasant expression said to Xu Yuexin, "Ignore him; he was placed here a few years ago by stirring up trouble."

"We are currently cleaning out people like him; they won't be able to bounce around for long."

"I believe once we eliminate such individuals, our literary endeavors will improve steadily."

Indeed, Xu Yuexin thought to himself, nodding in agreement: "It's not just literature; no sector should tolerate such people."

"The Xiao BJ in the story was essentially killed by them."

"Yes, what a fine warrior, such a heartbreaking sacrifice," Wang Chaoyin replied with resonance, "Hold on a moment; I'll go find the Chief Editor. If his review is fine, we'll pay you the Manuscript Payment."

"Thank you for your effort."

Xu Yuexin rose, bowed, and after Wang Chaoyin hurried away with the manuscript, sat back down.

Literary publishing follows the Three Reviews and Three Proofs system; I was lucky to meet the Editor Group Leader directly, completing both the first and second reviews at once and handing it straight to the Chief Editor.

If the Chief Editor passes it, I can just wait to receive the Manuscript Payment.

A 93,000‑word novel, calculated at four yuan per thousand characters for a medium level, yields 372 yuan in Manuscript Payment, roughly half a year's salary for an ordinary person.

The book itself contains a golden house; the ancients truly did not deceive me.

Xu Yuexin thought with satisfaction.

At this moment, in the office opposite the editorial department, Chief Editor Li Ji was bent over a manuscript; then a rapid knock sounded from outside: "There's a manuscript that needs your review."

"Come in."

After receiving the Chief Editor's permission, the wooden door was swiftly pushed open, and Wang Chaoyin stormed in.

"This is a manuscript I received today, Military-themed literature, set during the self‑defense war in the Southern Frontier, written exceptionally well."

"I'm handing it to you now for your comments."

Wang Chaoyin placed the manuscript on Li Ji's desk and introduced it excitedly.

"Alright, I'll take a look."

Li Ji gave a slight smile, took the manuscript to review, but noticed Wang Chaoyin still sitting there, not leaving.

"What, squatting here to be my door god?"

Li Ji teased.

"The article's content is truly excellent; I intend to reply to the author as soon as you give your feedback."

Wang Chaoyin said earnestly.

"Comrades say you're a man of feeling; it seems they're right."

Li Ji laughed, picked up the manuscript, and began reading seriously.

As Chief Editor, his habit is to give a general opinion after the first read, then spend a couple of days refining, repeatedly polishing, before reaching a final verdict.

With Wang Chaoyin pressing today, Li Ji had to change his usual work routine.

In Wang Chaoyin's anticipation and waiting, Li Ji read Xu Yuexin's writing word by word, sentence by sentence, with great care.

A garland beneath High Mountain…

Halfway through, Li Ji silently recited the novel's title again, and their heart surged uncontrollably.

As a poet who fought on the Taihang Mountains in Northern Shaanxi, they felt moved whenever they read such finely detailed works that closely reflected the reality of troop life.

Forty years ago, they were also an instructor, and together with the Company Commander they commanded the soldiers, battling wits and bravery against the Japanese invaders amid countless mountain valleys.

Reading further, the sacrifices of Liang Sanxi, Jin Kailai and others, Xiao BJ's departure in resentment, Zhao Mengsheng being fully roused to bloodlust, throwing himself to blow up the bunker…

And when Liang Sanxi's family finally arrived at the unit, scene after moving story unfolded…

Li Ji, a senior editor who has reviewed tens of thousands of manuscripts, felt their eyes slightly moist here, their heart thoroughly moved, and their thoughts drifted far away.

"Do you think this manuscript can be published?"

After Li Ji finished the last page, Wang Chaoyin, after pondering for a long while, asked softly.

(End of chapter)