Chapter 10

Northern Qiao Feng is shocked speechless for a moment; he doesn't believe there was any insider trading involved.

Because his old leader, Wei Pingan, once told him that in order to help his wife boost her performance, he had also written an article to fulfill a quota, only to have it returned by the editor-in-chief.

Wei Pingan is a genuine top student from Peking University. Although he didn't study literature, he was a pen for the military, and the speeches he wrote were brilliantly exciting. Even that didn't pass, but Wei Ming could!

This guy is a talent!

At this moment, Northern Qiao Feng is certain that Wei Ming won't stay here for long; this child is no ordinary person.

"Oh, then you write, you write. We won't talk about 'Demi-Gods' today."

Wei Ming laughs: "I haven't thought about what to write yet. This time I plan to submit to those literary journals."

"You're from the countryside, so just write about things in the countryside."

Brother Feng's words wake the dreamer.

Although Wei Ming doesn't reject "borrowing" successful works from later generations, the range of successful works in later generations is too wide, making him dizzy with choices.

Northern Qiao Feng's suggestion invisibly narrows his range of choices and helps him make a decision as quickly as possible.

He thinks of Gouzi Village, where he lived, thinks of his parents and younger sister, thinks of the villagers with their distinct personalities, and the donkeys, horses, cattle, and sheep in the brigade that his father often dealt with.

He also thinks of Zhao Debiao's evaluation of him when they were showering: "You're such a donkey!"

Donkey!

Got it!

That's it!

He wants to write a story about a donkey!

Recalling that movie, just as he is about to start writing, the door opens, and Zhao Debiao and Mei Wenhua return together.

Mei Wenhua looks quite happy, and Zhao Debiao, being straightforward, immediately reveals the reason for his happiness.

"Just now I saw Mei Wenhua with a female university student. Hey, that woman was stunningly beautiful!"

"Oh?" Northern Qiao Feng is happy for him too. "Little Mei has something going on!"

Mei Wenhua says modestly: "No, no, no. She's just an older sister from our compound. She's a '78 student; we bumped into each other and chatted for a bit."

"Not a premeditated encounter?"

"Pure coincidence."

"Then what did you talk about?"

"Just literature. This sister of mine is from the May Fourth Literary Society. She knows I like to write, so she asked me for a submission, letting me write an article for their society journal, 'Weiminghu.' I thought, since we're from the same compound, I'd help her out; it's not a big deal."

Mei Wenhua becomes more and more exuberant. The literary society of Peking University's talented students asked him for a submission; he really got to show off this time.

Northern Qiao Feng never expected that a small security guard dormitory could simultaneously possess two talents like Wei Ming and Mei Wenhua.

"You guys are truly the Crouching Dragon and Fledgling Phoenix among our security guards!" he exclaims.

Zhao Debiao points at his own big face in shock: "Ah, can I also be compared to the Crouching Dragon and Fledgling Phoenix?"

"Who's talking about you?" Northern Qiao Feng points at Wei Ming on the upper bunk. "I'm announcing a piece of good news to everyone: Wei Ming wrote an article before, and it was picked by a magazine. It will be published this month!"

After a brief silence...

"Holy crap!" Zhao Debiao widens his eyes, jumps directly to the upper bunk, and looks at Wei Ming: "Brother Ming, is it true!"

Wei Ming nods subtly.

"Then you're much more amazing than Mei Wenhua; he might not even get picked. Do you have a manuscript fee?"

"Yeah."

"Mei Wenhua, does that 'Weiminghu' thing pay a manuscript fee?" He asks downstairs again.

Mei Wenhua stammers: "Ah, this, talking about money is vulgar~ I'm purely supporting the students... ideals are priceless... the moon is so round tonight!"

Understood, no money, purely volunteer work.

Zhao Debiao ignores him and turns to Wei Ming, rubbing his hands: "Brother Ming, since you can earn manuscript fees, you have to show some appreciation~" Wei Ming is still thinking about slacking off in the security guard team to do a side job; this small request is definitely no problem.

"Sure. When my second manuscript fee arrives, I'll treat everyone to a meal at the Long March Canteen."

"Ah, why is it the second manuscript fee?"

"I plan to send the first one all back home," Wei Ming answers truthfully.

Hearing Wei Ming say this, Zhao Debiao feels a bit ashamed. Brother Ming is from the countryside, after all, and doesn't have the same solid foundation as those of them living at the foot of the Imperial City.

So he suggests: "How about this, when we find a time, let's all chip in and go to the Long March Canteen to celebrate for Brother Ming, how about that."

Just as Mei Wenhua is about to say "Why should I?", Northern Qiao Feng says heroically: "You don't need to pay; I'll treat you to this meal!"

At this moment, everyone looks at him as if they are looking at that Brother Qiao in the story; the brother is indeed a generous person.

Northern Qiao Feng's monthly salary is several dozen yuan; a meal at the Long March Canteen is nothing, and it's not like it's Quanjude.

Wei Ming thanks him hurriedly, and the other two cheer in unison. Northern Qiao Feng educates them again: "Don't forget to buy something for your family when you get your first salary next month; it's the thought that counts."

The two agree again.

!

Zhao Debiao looks at Wei Ming with eyes full of worship at this moment. He asks curiously: "Brother Ming, are you writing a martial arts novel like 'Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils'?"

"No, it's a fairy tale."

Zhao Debiao is immediately disappointed; he feels that with Brother Ming's eloquence, writing martial arts shouldn't be any worse than that old man Jin.

Hearing that what Wei Ming had accepted was a fairy tale, Mei Wenhua, whose spotlight had just been stolen, perks up again.

"So it's just a fairy tale for children. I didn't expect you, Wei Ming, to be so childlike~" Mei Wenhua says sarcastically, then takes out a new magazine from his bag.

Wei Ming ignores him, but Zhao Debiao isn't having it: "What's wrong with fairy tales? At least it can make money, which is better than you working for free and getting nothing."

Mei Wenhua holds his head high: "Things for children can only be considered stories; there's no threshold, and it can't be called literature. What I write, at least, belongs to the category of literature."

"Tsk tsk tsk, I think you're just jealous."

At this time, Northern Qiao Feng speaks up: "Little Wei is preparing a new work. This time it's not a fairy tale; he's preparing to submit it to a literary journal."

Mei Wenhua is stunned and hurriedly asks: "Which journal do you plan to submit to?"

Wei Ming: "I haven't thought about it yet; I don't know much about these things."

Mei Wenhua immediately suggests: "Among current literary journals, 'People's Literature' and 'Harvest' are the top choices. The one I have in my hand is the latest issue of 'Harvest.' With thirty years of heritage and Ba Lao serving as editor-in-chief, it's full of gold content. If you want to submit, submit to this one. As long as you're selected, you're guaranteed to be known by everyone under heaven."

Zhao Debiao exclaims: "Holy crap, that amazing! Brother Ming, submit to it! Submit to it!"

Wei Ming accepts advice readily: "Okay, then let's submit to 'Harvest'."

Zhao Debiao is purely well-intentioned, feeling that if you're going to submit, you should submit to the most badass one.

Mei Wenhua is purely malicious. "Harvest" is a bi-monthly, and each issue only has four or five novels. But because of its leading position in the industry, those four or five seats are competed for by the most outstanding writers in the country.

Besides the strength of the article, the author's fame is also a very important factor.

Let alone a security guard like Wei Ming, even among those talented students at Peking University, ask around and see who has published an article in "Harvest"!

None!

Not a single one!

So if Wei Ming wants to submit to "Harvest," there is only one result.

Rejected!

Or one could say—

Tragedy!

(End of chapter)