Chapter 67: The Literary World Has You, I Feel Reassured

The venue instantly erupted with a clattering applause, loud as thunder.

Most of the writers and literary figures present had read High Mountain, and even those who hadn't seen it had heard of its fame.

Who Chunfeng really is has been the topic they chat about over tea and meals.

Now, at last we can glimpse his true appearance.

A subtle anticipation rose in everyone's hearts.

At that moment, a tall figure rose from the front row of the hall, and every eye in the room focused on that silhouette.

Stares, silence, then exclamations.

"So young, so it turns out this is the kid."

"The author of High Mountain is actually this youngster!"

"No wonder Mao Lao values him so much! He's only twenty years old and can produce a work like High Mountain. Truly a genius!"

"I finally understand what Mao Lao meant by having successors."

Gasps, praise, and admiration intertwined, and many stretched their necks, eager to witness the genius author's bearing.

Beside Xu Yuexin, Chen Jiangong and Liu Zhenyun kept clapping exuberantly, their hands turning red.

Under everyone's gaze, Xu Yuexin strode from the front row onto the stage.

"Comrade Xu Yuexin, congratulations on you and your masterpiece Flower Wreath Under High Mountain winning the Mid-length Novel First Prize."

Wang Chaoyin, holding a microphone, expressed his joy, "May I ask what your current state of mind is?"

After speaking, he handed the microphone to Xu Yuexin.

"I am both happy and grateful now."

"I am happy because of the award, and grateful because the soldiers depicted in the book are still on the front lines, shedding blood for the motherland's peace, creating a tranquil environment for us in the rear."

"The story was written by them; I am merely a storyteller."

Xu Yuexin spoke in a plain tone, his expression humble.

"Clap clap clap!"

Including Mao Dun, the audience below spontaneously burst into applause for Xu Yuexin's words, and tears welled up in some eyes.

"Indeed. Countless Liang Sanxi and Jin Kailai sacrificed their lives to protect our lives."

Wang Chaoyin, feeling the same, asked, "Which characters in the book left a deeper impression on you?"

"Two characters impressed me: one called People, the other called People's Liberation Army."

Xu Yuexin's eyes glittered, his voice full of feeling.

Everyone present was moved by his sincere words! Li Ji, seated to Mao Lao's left, wiped away a hot tear and led the singing of a military song.

"I am a soldier,

from the common folk.

We defeated the Japanese Dog Bandits,

and eliminated the Jiang Bandit Army!"

…

"Who dares to start a war, we will strike it down resolutely!"

Beside them, Wang Meng, Chen Jiangong and others immediately sang at the top of their lungs, and the hall's chorus quickly merged into a river of sound.

On stage, Mao Lao also sang the military song with a trembling voice together with everyone.

After the song ended, he handed the finely crafted Award Certificate and Certificate to Xu Yuexin, his eyes full of approval: "Well done, a young writer with works and a stance."

"With someone like you in the motherland's literary world, I feel at ease."

Xu Yuexin bowed slightly, took the award and certificate, and said sincerely, "I still need to keep learning and constantly improve."

When Xu Yuexin stepped down from the stage and returned to his seat, he saw Wang Meng smiling and giving him a thumbs‑up.

Chen Jiangong, after Xu Yuexin sat down, respectfully patted his shoulder, "Your award speech was excellent!"

"You are an emotionally rich writer."

"Xiao Liu, to write a work, you must do this. Understand?"

Liu Zhenyun, having just borrowed the award certificate from Xu Yuexin's hand, was carefully leafing through it when he heard Chen Jiangong's words and quickly let out an "Ah".

After the Mid-length Novel First Prize was presented, it was time for the Second and Third Prizes.

Among the Second Prize winners was a piece titled Dead Light on Coral Island, New China's first sci‑fi work adapted into a film. In a few years, as sci‑fi novels flourish, Magazine Offices will set up dedicated awards for this genre.

After all Second and Third Prizes were awarded, Wang Chaoyin announced Intermission.

The hall's atmosphere revived, and everyone sought familiar friends, chatting with writers they wished to meet.

Xu Yuexin was unsurprisingly surrounded by a circle of people; writers and literary figures all wanted to befriend this rising new star.

Xu Yuexin responded smoothly, chatting freely, occasionally tossing a joke that sparked a light laugh.

Amid the relaxed, humorous atmosphere, a shy‑looking youth on the crowd's edge caught Xu Yuexin's attention.

The youth was about the same age as him, eager to speak yet lingering, circling the crowd.

When he realized Xu Yuexin had noticed him, he shyly scratched his head, apologized to others, and squeezed up in front of him: "Comrade Xu Yuexin, hello."

"I am Liang Zuo, a classmate of Jiang and Zhenyun."

"Oh, Liang Zuo, I see."

Xu Yuexin rose from his seat and greeted him.

Chen Jiangong and Liu Zhenyun looked a bit surprised.

"Hey, you came too, why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"Brother Liang, if you hadn't come, I wouldn't have known."

"Sorry, I'm not used to dealing with people, so I didn't say."

Liang Zuo chuckled, his hand constantly rubbing the hem of his clothes looking very restrained, "May I ask comrade Xu Yuexin, what's your view on the direction of our literature's development?"

That question is a bit too big.

Xu Yuexin pretended to ponder for a few seconds, then shook his head: "I don't know."

With so many senior literary figures present, even Mao Lao is here. Chatting casually and telling a joke is fine, but discussing such a grand topic could easily spark controversy.

"Hi…"

Liang Zuo, with an apologetic expression, rubbed his hands and said.

He also realized the topic he just raised was too big and felt he had misspoken.

Being introverted already, he became even more restrained, not knowing what to say.

Fortunately, Xu Yuexin proactively shifted the topic.

"However, I think a Film and Television Category called Situational Comedy will definitely become very popular in the future."

Xu Yuexin, feigning nonchalance, pointed out to Liang Zuo, "Creating scripts for this kind of Film and Television will accordingly have great prospects."

A classic like I Love My Family would be wonderful if it could be adapted to the screen a decade earlier.

We need to guide Liang Zuo onto this path earlier.

Liang Zuo clearly listened obediently to Xu Yuexin, pulling out a small notebook and jotting it down.

"Thank you… Situational Comedy, right? I'll go back and look it up in the dictionary thoroughly."

Liang Zuo, holding the small notebook and pen, said earnestly.

"Writers, guests, friends, our Intermission has ended, ha."

At this moment, Wang Chaoyin on the stage said into the microphone, "Next is our Closing Act, the Award-winning Short Story Works award ceremony."

"We'll talk again next time."

Liang Zuo quickly put away the notebook, showed a shy smile, and returned to his seat.

In the auditorium, everyone's attention, following Wang Chaoyin's voice, returned to the stage, and many writers and guests felt their hearts quicken.

From 1977 to now, in the more than two years, the country has seen countless outstanding short story writers.

Who exactly can claim the top prize today? Everyone is quietly speculating.

Some are also nitpicking the wording.

"Closing Act" is often used to refer to the final program, but it actually denotes the second‑to‑last.

People's Literature, being a livelihood of words, most likely adopts the latter meaning.

So the question arises: besides Report Literature, Long Novel, Medium‑length, and Short Story Award, what other awards could exist?

A considerable number of curious audience members are asking the people next to them in low voices.

(End of Chapter)