Chapter 83

“Teacher Li, hello.”

“Hey, Editor Zou, you’ve had a long journey—come, have a cup of hot tea to warm up.”

To keep a low profile, Li Heng did not go to the school gate to greet Editor Zou Ping; instead, he had arrived early at the English teacher’s home, brewed a pot of tea, and waited.

“Teacher Li, these are letters sent to ‘Harvest’ by readers—I’ve picked out some for you, and hope you can reply to a few during your free time.”

Zou Ping opened his backpack and took out fifty letters, placing them on the coffee table.

Li Heng was surprised: “Only ten days in, and already this many?”

Zou Ping beamed: “This isn’t much—not nearly enough. The magazine receives hundreds every day; just yesterday alone, we got over a thousand.”

Besides, the more letters, the more it proves ‘Alive’ is a hit, that your work has succeeded. I’ve worked at the magazine for six years, and I’ve never seen anything this popular—everyone here is envious.”

Unlike their last meeting, the massive profits and joy of success had instantly drawn the two closer; Zou Ping was no longer so cautious or serious, and during their conversation, he shared numerous amusing stories about ‘Alive’ at the magazine.

Li Heng listened with great satisfaction, and while keeping up the conversation, sincerely thanked him several times.

“Oh! By the way, I almost forgot this!”

As they chatted, Zou Ping suddenly slapped his forehead, set down his teacup, turned, and pulled out another yellow-brown registered letter from his backpack, handing it to him.

“This was given to me by Chief Editor Liao just before I left—it’s another reader’s letter.”

Li Heng took the registered letter and glanced at it—it looked utterly ordinary.

Worried he might overlook it, Zou Ping quickly added: “Teacher Li, this letter was singled out by Chief Editor Liao himself. I heard it was passed to him by an old friend of his.”

For a chief editor of such a major magazine to personally deliver a letter, Li Heng understood: the sender was no ordinary person—not necessarily powerful, but at least someone with social standing.

Li Heng glanced at the address, memorized its appearance, then set it aside and focused entirely on Zou Ping’s interview about the creative journey behind ‘Alive’.

Creative journey, huh?

Well, you could call it insight, plus a bit of motivational fluff.

This was no challenge for Li Heng, who had spent seven years navigating the system—he could do it with his eyes closed.

He spoke fluently for half an hour, nearly wearing out Zou Ping’s pen—luckily, there was a recorder running, or Zou Ping would have panicked.

Zou Ping thought to himself: No wonder Teacher Li wrote ‘Alive’—he truly has extraordinary talent. Every word he spoke moved me nearly to tears; these are truly quotable lines—readers will adore them.

After only half a day, Zou Ping left happily.

Li Heng and the English teacher had wanted to invite him to lunch, but he was already brimming with work.

He needed to rush back and file the article quickly, to get the transcript published as soon as possible, to add more fuel to the fiery public discourse and push ‘Alive’ to an even greater peak.

Well, wasn’t that just boosting his own fame and pocket money? What was there to argue? Li Heng smiled and expressed full support.

As he saw Zou Ping off at the door, he paused and said: “In a while, I might write a short story under a new pen name and mail it to you.”

Zou Ping stopped in his tracks, exclaiming: “Teacher Li, why use a new pen name? Your current one is already valuable!”

Li Heng explained: “The new pen name will be used only once, then retired—I’ll stick with ‘December’ after this. The reason? I’ll keep it secret for now.”

Hearing this, Zou Ping sighed in relief, then asked eagerly: “How long will the new story be?”

Li Heng replied: “Hmm… not too long—around forty to fifty thousand characters. I estimate I can finish it in a week—I’ll let you know.”

“Very well. I await your masterpiece, Teacher Li.”

Unexpected good fortune made Zou Ping feel his trip was more than worthwhile—he excitedly shook Li Heng’s hand before leaving.

After watching Editor Zou leave the school, Wang Runwen returned from the corridor and asked curiously: “You already have a new idea?”

Li Heng tapped his head, smugly: “Don’t underestimate it—there are plenty of good ideas in here. I just can’t write now—I’m busy preparing for the college entrance exam.”

In the past, the English teacher would have scoffed at this.

But now, she adjusted her glasses with her fingertip, smiled faintly, picked up one reader letter, sat across from him on the sofa, and began reading it—denying him any chance to keep showing off.

Why are you sitting across from me?

Hmm, this peach is truly ripe.

Li Heng, in the midst of his hormonal surge, unconsciously glanced twice, then forced himself to look away—first drank two sips of tea to calm himself, then picked up the registered letter Chief Editor Liao had passed on, and opened it.

As he immersed himself in the reader’s letter, the English teacher subtly lifted her gaze to glance at him, then lowered her eyes to her own figure, thought for a moment, and moved to a separate side sofa.

The yellow-brown registered letter was thick—inside were folded four sheets of paper.

Just from the thickness alone, this was clearly a devoted reader.

To be honest, in both his past and present lives, this was his first time receiving a reader letter—whether from vanity or curiosity, he quickly opened and began reading:

“Dear Teacher December, hello. My name is Huang Zhaoyi, a literature enthusiast from Shanghai. I am honored to have read your masterpiece ‘Alive’ in ‘Harvest’ magazine. I loved this novel—it brought me joy, made me cry, moved me deeply, and prompted reflection.”

Over two thousand words flowed across the page; Li Heng spent a long time reading each word carefully.

Originally, reader Huang Zhaoyi hadn’t paid much attention to ‘Alive’, thinking it was just a tragic novel. But after a friend strongly recommended it, she gave it a try—and became utterly captivated. The fate of Fu Gui and his family shook her to her core.

Put bluntly, it had blown open her mind.

He judged her to be female based on her elegant handwriting and her name.

Zhaoyi! Zhaoyi! Would a man ever choose such a distinctly feminine name?

After reading it again from start to finish, he realized her literary cultivation was extremely high—likely a professional in writing or an arts worker.

But interestingly, she consistently used honorifics, suggesting she imagined Li Heng as an elderly uncle.

After a moment’s thought, considering Chief Editor Liao’s face, the reader’s sincerity, and his own vanity over his first reader letter, Li Heng decided to reply immediately.

“Teacher, do you have pen and paper?”

The English teacher rose and brought out a full set of writing tools: ink, brush, paper, and inkstone.

She asked: “You’re going to reply now?”

“Yes, I have time now,” Li Heng replied.

Wang Runwen crossed her legs and said: “You read it so carefully—what did it say? Can I see it?”

Li Heng was speechless: “Didn’t you already open and read several others? Why ask about this one?”

Wang Runwen smiled: “This one’s value is clearly incomparable to the others.”

Li Heng didn’t care: “Come on, what value? It’s just because of Chief Editor Liao’s connection.”

Wang Runwen brushed her long hair aside, took the letter, and began reading.

After several minutes, she said: “She’s clearly cultured—her phrasing and word choice are refined. I couldn’t write like this.”

Li Heng agreed: “Of course. Only a cultured person would appreciate ‘Alive’.”

Wang Runwen looked at the letter, half-smiling: “Her words are full of admiration for you. If you put in a little effort, you might even develop a romance.”

Li Heng looked at her: “You’re saying that about every reader letter? Which one doesn’t admire me?”

Why else would they spend money and time writing? Teacher, you’re clearly thinking inappropriate thoughts.”

“Besides, you can’t pretend you didn’t notice—she clearly sees me as an old man. Maybe even a white-haired elder. Would you be attracted to an old man?”

Wang Runwen was left speechless, so she simply ignored him and began organizing the reader letters.

After a while, she said: “Your editor is thoughtful—these fifty letters come from nearly every province.”

Look! This one’s from Shanghai, this one’s from Beijing, these are from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, this one’s from Yunnan and Guizhou—even Hohhot is represented.”

Li Heng didn’t look up, still writing his reply: “That proves I’m popular—readers from all over the country.”

Wang Runwen asked: “Will you reply to all of them?”

Li Heng didn’t commit: “Hard to say. I’ll reply to a few if I have time; if not, I’ll leave them.”

Wang Runwen remarked pointedly: “Heh, you’re being awfully biased.”

Li Heng shrugged: “What can I do? If you had a connection with the chief editor, I’d reply to you first. I’m barely scraping by—I’m not a rich man. I have to prioritize practical benefits.”

He wrote seven hundred words, filling one full page, then blew on it to dry it before rubbing his stomach and saying: “Teacher, I’m hungry. Don’t just sit there—go get something to eat.”

Hearing this, Wang Runwen stood up and headed for the door: “I’m going to the staff cafeteria. You handle your own meal.”

“Hey? You’re just leaving me here?” Li Heng called after her.

“I’m barely scraping by—I’m not a rich man. Who are you to me? Why should I care?” Wang Runwen mocked him with his own words, then opened the door and left.

"I'm barely scraping by every day—I'm no rich man. Who are you to me? Why should I care what you do?" Wang Run mocked him with these words, then actually opened the door and left.

Li Heng muttered, picked up his newly written letter, and left the teachers’ dormitory building.

On the stairs, he met Sun Manning.

The girl approached him furtively: “You spent the whole morning alone with the English teacher in a closed room?”

Li Heng frowned: “What are you implying?”

Sun Manning glanced around, then grinned: “Nothing. I just think the English teacher has an incredibly sexy figure and a very alluring voice. She’s at that age, no boyfriend—maybe you should keep some distance.”

Sun Man glanced around and joked, "It's nothing serious—I just think the English teacher has an insanely sexy figure and a super magnetic voice. She's at that age with no boyfriend, so you'd better keep some distance."

“I trust you!”

“You don’t trust the English teacher?”

“I trust her!”

“Then what are you babbling about?”

“Because you’re both at that age—full of hormones, like wolves and tigers. Together, it’s dangerous.”

Li Heng paused, then asked seriously: “Manning, have you heard gossip?”

Sun Manning shook her head: “No. The English teacher is well-liked in this building—no one would maliciously speculate. I just think you visit her house too often, and stay too long. If I were your girlfriend, I’d be jealous.”

So it was just a misunderstanding. Li Heng continued down the stairs: “Then you’ll never be my girlfriend.”

I just think you're going to her house too often, and you stay there for hours without coming out—if I were your girlfriend, I'd be jealous too.

Sun Manning scoffed: “Where are you going? Got time for a game of pool later?”

Li Heng shook his head: “I’m going to mail a letter, then I need to visit the medical college.”

Sun Man snorted and asked, “Where are you going? Got time for another game of pool later?”

Li Heng shook his head, “I need to send a letter and stop by the Medical School.”

Sun Manning asked, “What are you going to the medical school for?”

Li Heng replied offhandedly, “My second sister studies there.”

Sun Manning made an “oh” sound. “Want me to go with you? My uncle lives in Beita District—I know that area well.”

“Thanks, no need. You’ve barely had a few days off—rest up.”

Li Heng flatly refused. What kind of international joke was this? He was going to the medical school to hand out money—if he brought her along, everything would be exposed.

Surprisingly, Zhang Zhiyong was reading and doing practice problems in the dorm.

Li Heng walked in and gave him a light kick. “Didn’t know you’d learned to work hard?”

Zhang Zhiyong grumbled, “Thanks to you, you damn thing! I don’t want to be the bottom of the class.”

Li Heng said, “I’ve got a task for you—come with me to the medical school.”

“Go meet your second sister, the she-tiger? Oh my god! Spare me! Why would I go see her? I don’t want to get beaten!” Zhang Zhiyong shook his head violently.

Words didn’t work. Li Heng gave him a proper beating with force. When they reappeared at the school gate, the guy was trotting along happily, obedient as a puppy.

First, they went to mail a letter—to Huang Zhaoyi.

Then they went to the bank to withdraw money.

After weighing options, he withdrew 200 yuan—a fortune in this era, enough for his second sister to snack on peanuts for a long while.

Shaoyang Medical School was a public institution in Beita District, far from Shuangqing District, where No. 1 High School was located.

The two took a bus and spent over an hour getting there.

“Oh my god! I’m never coming with you again—I suffered so much!”

As soon as they got off, Zhang Zhiyong, who got carsick easily, clung to a roadside utility pole and vomited uncontrollably.

The bus smelled overwhelmingly foul. Li Heng felt dizzy too, but didn’t throw up—he ran to a nearby convenience store, bought two bottles of soda, and handed one to him:

“Old Yong, rinse your mouth first.”

Zhang Zhiyong took the soda, pried off the cap, and gulped it down in big swallows, then mournfully said:

“Damn it! All that beef I ate at lunch is gone—poured onto the ground! My heart and liver ache!”

Li Heng smiled and comforted him: “Don’t worry, I’ve got money. Tonight, when we get back, we’ll have hotpot—beef hotpot.”

He’d been reborn for so long and still hadn’t eaten hotpot—he was seriously craving it.

Inside the medical school, Zhang Zhiyong felt uneasy. He plopped down on the lawn by the gate. “I’ll wait here. I’m not meeting your she-tiger sister.”

“Fine,” Li Heng didn’t press him.

The school wasn’t big. Following his memory, he quickly found his second sister.

She was with a group of friends—some male, some female—laughing and chatting.

One boy, thick-browed and big-eyed, looked especially familiar.

How could he not?

He was the son of a cadre family—the future second sister’s husband, though right now he was just one of many loyal followers.

His second sister, when it came to romance, was a natural expert—she’d exploited her beauty to the fullest and ultimately picked the candidate with the highest overall score as her husband.

“Why are you here?”

“I came to see you.”

The moment Li Heng appeared, he noticed two boys instantly fixated on him, staring intently.

Ha! Exactly—they were two loyal followers, on high alert, guarding against him.

Li Lan pulled him aside. “Did you eat lunch?”

“Yes, I ate before coming.” Li Heng answered.

“Did you come alone?”

“With Old Yong—he’s carsick. He’s waiting for me on the lawn by the gate.”

Li Lan sized him up, her eyes gleaming. “Just a month apart, and your complexion’s improved so much. Did you hook up with some rich girl at school?”

What an outrageous thing to say!

Li Heng’s face twitched. “Can’t it be that some guy friend treated me?”

“Impossible. I’ve met your shady friends. With my keen eyes, the only one who might have money is Zhang Zhiyong. Tell me—after breaking up with Chen Zijin, which girl got unlucky?”

For some reason, since their relationship thawed in January, every time he appeared now, Li Lan felt a long-lost warmth—and her words flowed more freely than usual.

Li Heng was annoyed. “So every girl who hangs out with me is unlucky?”

Li Lan stretched lazily, speaking bluntly, no sugarcoating: “If not unlucky, then what?

Judging by your track record, if you only swindle money, she’s lucky. But I fear you’ll end up like Chen Zijin—tricked into bed, then left with nothing.”

Hearing this, Li Heng turned and walked away, saying as he went, “I came to bring you money. I’m not giving it to you now.”

Li Lan stood still, unmoved, thinking: How much could he possibly get by scamming girls?

No wonder she thought that way—no wonder she’d formed such a fixed opinion of her brother. Chen Zijin’s case had shattered her worldview.

Such a gentle, well-behaved girl. So beautiful, so well-mannered. And this brother had somehow slipped her into bed without anyone noticing—not just the villagers, but even…

Privately, even she, Li Jianguo, and Tian Rune were stunned!

Back then, she’d been relieved it was her brother doing the bullying; if Chen Zijin had been her own sister, she’d have killed the boy herself.

After walking five or six meters, seeing his sister made no move to stop him, Li Heng sighed and turned back. He pulled two bundles of hundred-yuan notes from his undershirt pocket and handed them to her.

Li Lan couldn’t believe it, staring at him dumbfounded. “You really have money?”

Li Heng shoved the cash into her hands. “Take it. I came all this way—do you think I’d lie to you?”

Li Lan dropped her playful demeanor and asked seriously, “Where did you get this much money? Did you do something illegal?”

“Come on, I’m at school every day—what could I possibly do?”

Li Heng didn’t argue. He explained his writing.

He explained in detail.

At first, Li Lan didn’t believe him.

Then her expression turned wildly shocked.

Later, she looked at him like he was a bodhisattva.

Still, it felt too dramatic, too unbelievable. She pinched her thigh hard—painful. She sucked in a breath, then placed her hand on her brother’s forehead:

“You’re not running a fever, are you? What nonsense are you spouting in broad daylight?”

“….”

“Hey! Who are you? What are you possessing my brother for? Get out!”

“….”

After a few slaps on his forehead, Li Heng was speechless. He sighed. “Remember when I was in third grade, you spat all over the dishes to stop me from eating?”

How could she forget her own misdeeds? A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face. She pulled her hand back and asked, “So… is ‘To Live’ really yours?”

“Mm.”

“You’re a famous writer now? Our Li family tomb is smoking again?”

“You talk too much. Do you want the money or not?”

Li Lan, always fond of food—and thus greedy—immediately stuffed the cash into her pocket. “I’ll go home soon—I’ll give it to Mom.”

Li Heng shook his head. “This is for your personal spending. Buy clothes, buy food.”

“Don’t worry about home—I’ve already saved money in the bank. I’ll withdraw it when I go back.”

Hearing this, Li Lan fell silent, suddenly touched. But she was a strong-willed woman and didn’t show her emotion.

Seeing the group of boys and girls whispering and glancing over, Li Heng said, “Second sister, I’m heading back. Have fun with your friends.”

Li Lan tried to keep him. “It’s still early. Let’s have dinner together.”

Li Heng thought for a moment, then declined. “No. We’ll have plenty of time to eat later. Old Yong’s still waiting—he’s terrified of you, refuses to meet you. I’m taking him back.”

Compared to her earlier chattiness, Li Lan was now quiet. She walked him all the way to the gate, watching until he boarded the bus before turning back.

“Lanlan, who was that?” As soon as Li Heng left, her friends crowded around, asking questions.

“That’s my brother.”

“Oh! I knew it! He’s your brother—your eyes and faces are similar. Both handsome.” A girl patted her chest.

Li Lan asked them, “Has anyone read the novel ‘To Live’?”

“I have!”

“I know it! It’s famous—my dad just finished reading it. He sat there stunned for ages after.” One loyal follower said.

Li Lan asked, “How famous is ‘famous’?”

Another boy jumped in: “Newspapers everywhere are running stories about it. Literary critics say it’s a masterpiece—something that will be remembered for generations.”

“Masterpiece”? “Remembered for generations”? These words tangled with “tricked Chen Zijin into bed” in Li Lan’s mind—but they refused to connect.

How could a person change so much?

Could skipping chores under the guise of reading really lead to such greatness?

At this moment, Li Lan’s mind was shaken by a seismic upheaval. She stared at the direction the bus had disappeared, unable to calm down.

“Boss, give me the latest issue of ‘Harvest’ magazine.” Her heart was itching. She no longer cared about saving a few yuan.

“Sold out. Come back tomorrow afternoon—the next batch arrives then.”

“Lanlan, don’t buy it. I’ll get Dad’s copy when I go home.” One loyal follower said.

Hearing this, another loyal follower cursed himself for being slow and stupid.

PS: Request monthly votes! Request subscriptions!

(End of Chapter)