[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-1987-my-era":3,"chapter-1987-my-era-1987-my-era-chapter-18":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","1987: My Era",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2259178,4409,"Chapter 18: Submission","1987-my-era-chapter-18",18,"\u003Cp>On the other side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After leaving the Xiao family, the mother and son parted ways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Taking advantage of today’s market day, when there were many vendors selling chicks, Tian Rune planned to buy twelve baby chicks to take home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the countryside, many families saved money by hatching eggs from their own chickens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But while the Li family were skilled at raising pigs and cattle, they had terrible luck with chickens, ducks, and geese.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not only was the hatching rate low, but the survival rate was even more pitiful—often only five or six out of twelve chicks would survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a result, neighbors joked: “Heaven has eyes—this is fair. You can’t let the Li family have the best of everything.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Heng had a clear goal: he headed straight for the newspaper stand beside the old train station.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To find submission addresses for literary magazines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As expected, Qian Town, though a town, wasn’t even a small city, yet the newspaper stand carried every magazine one could want.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The selection was even more complete than he’d imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, Li Heng found submission addresses for many famous literary magazines: People’s Literature, Harvest, October, Contemporary, and Huacheng.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The newspaper stand owner, a middle-aged man with a full beard, noticed Li Heng’s behavior—he kept flipping through one magazine after another, reading them all, taking notes in between, yet never mentioning purchase. He grew impatient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He deliberately tapped his tobacco pipe and said: “Hey, kid, this isn’t a library—these magazines are for sale. If you ruin them, how am I supposed to sell them?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you buying or not? If not, go somewhere else. Don’t block my stall.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this unfriendly remark, Li Heng, aware he was in the wrong, didn’t mind. Instead, he picked up a copy of Story Weekly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He asked: “Uncle, how much is this one?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bearded man, still impatient, replied offhandedly: “Three mao.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Heng counted out three ten-cent bills and handed them over: “One, please.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing him actually pay real money, the man’s attitude softened considerably. Driven by curiosity, he asked:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why are you copying so many submission addresses?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, this? Yesterday afternoon I had a dream—I became a famous writer. Today I’m just testing my luck.” Li Heng had a talent for making things up on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bearded man sucked on his pipe, sizing Li Heng up from head to toe. Seeing how young he was and how foolishly he chased daydreams, his drooping eyelids sank further, his interest gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The post office was across from the old train station, not far—just cross one street and you’re there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Walking into the post office lobby, he suddenly felt stuck: due to haste, he’d only prepared two handwritten copies of the first forty thousand words of To Live.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With so many submission addresses copied down—all from renowned publishers—he was overwhelmed by indecision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his past life, he loved reading and occasionally published articles in newspapers. He’d heard of Contemporary, Huacheng, and October—the “Four Great Divas.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it was all hearsay—he wasn’t part of the literary circle and lacked sufficient knowledge of each magazine’s preferences and background.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most crucially, due to the passage of time, he couldn’t remember which magazine Chen Xiaomi worked for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His reason for submitting as a writer this time wasn’t just to earn money and improve his family’s situation or to gain fame and change his “Ximen Qing” reputation—he also wanted to get back at her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which magazine was Chen Xiaomi with? He rummaged through his memory for a long time but found no lead. Li Heng felt deflated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a moment, he impulsively wanted to run back and pressure Chen Zitong for information—ask her which company her aunt worked for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the moment the thought arose, he crushed it. Forget it. Too much trouble. He’d submit randomly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, Chen Zitong had been nicknamed “Little Eel” since childhood—she was slippery. Under the current strained relationship between the Chen and Li families, she wouldn’t be easy to trick.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anyway, as long as no butterfly effect altered history, with To Live’s legendary reputation, Chen Xiaomi would eventually learn that the Li family had produced a true dragon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After pondering the list of submission addresses for a long time, Li Heng finally decided to submit to People’s Literature and Harvest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d heard the most rumors about People’s Literature—it was said to be backed by the National Literary Publishing House, holding a uniquely prestigious position in China’s literary world, born with a golden spoon in its mouth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For someone with ambition like him, this was practically mandatory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for Harvest? No big deal—just because he liked the name. Harvest, harvest—the symbolism was excellent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Having decided, Li Heng chose a pen name: December.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To ensure safety and speed, Li Heng indulged extravagantly—he spent a large sum to mail both manuscripts via registered parcels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To avoid confusing People’s Literature with Harvest, he checked the addresses three times before sending, adding at the end: “If interested in publication, please return a contact phone number.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Knowing he’d return to Shaoshan for school the day after tomorrow, he didn’t use his home address—he filled in his English teacher’s address and landline number.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He used his English teacher’s because, in memory, the teacher lived on campus, close to his class, and had always treated him kindly—he naturally inspired trust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he wrote down his English teacher’s landline, he silently thanked heaven—he still remembered the first phone number he’d ever memorized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>885708\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could still recall it, like his first love’s mobile number—decades had passed, he’d never deliberately thought of it, yet it still quietly lingered in his heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching the two parcels taken away by the staff, Li Heng suddenly felt a lurking worry: would submitting to multiple magazines offend anyone?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the future, who’d dare such audacity? Editors would shut you down instantly, blacklist you on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his concerns vanished soon after. Back then, submission conditions were relaxed, and information didn’t flow easily—he was an unknown nobody; they wouldn’t even know he’d submitted multiple times.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if they did, they’d understand—he was a complete beginner, innocent and fearless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or perhaps they simply wouldn’t care at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, if he ever became famous, he’d never do this again—it’d be taboo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After leaving the post office, Li Heng instinctively went to the agricultural market. In his memory, Tian Rune always shopped there—because there were many vendors selling the same goods, allowing comparison and bargaining.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After searching, he indeed found her in the clothing section.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xuemei, we’re old customers—you’ve sold me clothes many times. Can you lower the price a bit more on this set?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As soon as he approached, he saw his mother carefully feeling a set of white casual wear, inspecting every stitch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Rune, this is already the best price. Because we’ve been friends for decades, I didn’t even charge you extra. Look at the style, feel the fabric—could you get this for thirteen yuan anywhere else?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>PS: Please vote for monthly tickets! Please follow! Please collect!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1168,"2026-06-19T15:27:33.982Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","11c243bca4e11d92a19955f52c78a79374592236a3bc1f97770f65ea2ff8a834","1987-my-era-chapter-19","1987-my-era-chapter-17",713,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002F1987-my-era-cover.jpg"]