Chapter 109

"Haha, stay put, it's my turn to move!"

On the bed in the dormitory manager's room, Melinda picked up the dice and threw it casually. "Six!"

Then she picked up her white chess piece and jumped forward six steps, and the reward she got was: Please return to the starting point.

Wei Ming didn't laugh at her. This kind of game was like this; you never know who will win until the end.

This was what Melinda dug out of her box. She played it with her first roommate when she first studied abroad, and later put it away. Today, when she was packing up, she dug it out and hurriedly brought it to share with Wei Ming.

Xiao Zha: Originally, I wasn't worthy.

Today Melinda didn't even go back to the dormitory to transition. Before locking the door, she played games openly at Wei Ming's place. After locking the door, she pulled the curtains and continued to play even more fun games.

After the game ended, she told Wei Ming: "My thesis is finished."

Wei Ming's movement of rubbing her waist paused slightly: "Then the next step is the defense."

"Hmm."

Wei Ming: "When are you leaving?"

Melinda: "Should be the middle of next month."

Wei Ming asked again: "Do you have any unfulfilled wishes, or places you want to go but haven't been to?"

Melinda drew circles on Wei Ming's chest and said: "I want to eat donkey fire."

Wei Ming was happy. He didn't expect her to still be thinking about this.

"Alright, there's still more than half a month. I'll find a way."

Two days later, Wei Ming completed the film script for *The Herdsman*. This was no difficulty for him; the main effort was spent on re-copying.

If there were a computer, this would be even simpler.

Every time he went to the South Pavilion Art Team to find Teacher Gu Jianfen, passing by the North Pavilion Computing Room, he was thinking: can the computer inside be used for him to write novels now?

Before the 90s, he had no concept of computers in his previous life, and he didn't know to what extent computer development had reached at this time.

However, he knew that typewriters should be relatively mature. In the Republic of China, Lin Yutang invested in typewriters, and the Wan brothers also shot animated advertisements for typewriters. It was just that he didn't have his own home, and putting such a thing in the dormitory took up too much space and disturbed people's sleep.

And once typed out, it couldn't be modified. If there were errors, they had to be painted over with a pen. And modifying was inevitable when writing novels, so for Wei Ming, the advantage wasn't obvious.

After the script was written, Wei Ming didn't delay and submitted it directly. To race against time, he ran directly to the Beijing Er Yingchang.

Just like those who write poetry have *Poetry* magazine, those who write lyrics have *Lyric Journal*, those who write drama scripts have *Script* magazine, and those who write film scripts basically submit to *Film Creation*.

Like the script for *Legend of Tianyun Mountain* published in *Film New Works*, that was newly founded this year by the Shanghai Er Yingchang to compete with *Film Creation*.

Director Xie Jin's meaning was to let him submit it to *Film New Works* of Shanghai, and after he handled *Legend of Tianyun Mountain*, he would handle *The Herdsman*.

But Wei Ming pretended not to understand and submitted it directly to the more famous *Film Creation*, and came to the Beijing Er Yingchang in person.

The current Beijing Er Yingchang was at No. 77 North Third Ring Middle Road, also belonging to Haidian, not too far from Peking University.

After the old gatekeeper of the Beijing Er Yingchang figured out what kind of background this kid had, although he hadn't heard of him, it sounded very impressive, so he solemnly collected his manuscript.

When Cao Shuolong, the editor-in-chief of *Film Creation*, came to work, he immediately transferred this script to him.

"*The Herdsman*?" Editor-in-Chief Cao was very surprised. This novel was very hot now, and several major official media were reporting and discussing it. He didn't expect the original author to change it into a script so quickly and come to submit it in person.

Bringing it back to the office, Cao Shuolong immediately read it seriously.

He hadn't read the original novel yet. Old Jiang of the Literature Department bought a copy of *Harvest*, and he was just preparing to read it, but he didn't know which grandson stole it, and he couldn't find it at all.

However, this was also good; he could read a completely unfamiliar story.

Reading until noon, Cao Shuolong still had a smile on his face.

"Emotion is the foundation of belief. Here is the land soaked with my sweat, here are the relatives and friends who shared weal and woe with me, here is the wife who lived with me through thick and thin, here are the roots of my life..."

After experiencing a week of getting along with his father, Xu Shengfang finally decided to stay. The last scene of the script froze on Xu Shengfang and his wife Wei Fenfang and son Xiao Qingqing returning to the ranch and running toward each other.

"Really good~"

Cao Shuolong chanted these two words in his mouth. The "really good" he said didn't refer to the script—of course, the script was definitely excellent—but the most important thing was this feeling of having ideals, beliefs, and family waiting for him to return home. Really good!

He immediately decided to arrange for the *The Herdsman* script to be published in the January 1980 issue. At the same time, he came to the Literature Department of the Beijing Er Yingchang and found the director, Jiang Huaiyan.

After submitting the script, Wei Ming didn't return to Peking University immediately, but wandered around large and small restaurants in Yanjing, asking people if they sold donkey meat fire. If not, he would settle for the next best thing: did they sell donkey meat?

If he didn't find it in one day, he would look again tomorrow.

If he couldn't find it in the city, he would go to the village to look.

This day, he had just returned from Mentougou, and then he saw a young man wearing glasses and dressed more fashionably than ordinary people standing at the South Gate guard post, and he had been pacing back and forth in the cold.

The colleague on duty saw Wei Ming and immediately said to him: "You're back."

That person immediately took his hand out of his pocket and took off his leather gloves: "Writer Wei, hello, hello!"

This accent was a bit like Liu Rulong's. "Cantonese?"

"Yes, yes, I am an editor from *Huacheng*. My name is Chen Wenbin." After shaking hands with Wei Ming, he even took out a business card.

Worthy of being from Guangzhou, even business cards were available. He was indeed at the forefront of the era.

Wei Ming invited him in to sit.

However, it was still cold inside the guard post, and this Editor Chen was still stamping his feet while sitting in the chair.

Although the heating had already started, the guard post definitely couldn't compare to the dormitory. Now the hottest place in Peking University was the Spoon Garden where Wei Ming was.

Wei Ming was thinking: Little guy, you finally couldn't help but come out in person to solicit a manuscript from me.

Actually, Wei Ming wouldn't be picky. *October* and *Contemporary* were both in Yanjing, so it was normal to come to the door to solicit manuscripts. You, a Guangzhou publication, also play this set. The cost is too high.

As a result, he misunderstood. Although the other party also expressed the intention of soliciting manuscripts, that was incidental. Actually, he had another purpose.

"Our *Huacheng* magazine organized a symposium in Yanjing, wanting to invite some writers and scholars in the literary world to provide some suggestions for our *Huacheng* on how to do better in the future."

!

Oh, a symposium.

Wei Ming asked about the time and place, and who was attending.

"I have already persuaded Teacher Professor Hong Zicheng from the Chinese Department of Peking University."

Oh, Old Hong is going.

Anyway, it was only one day, and they provided food, so Wei Ming agreed to make this trip. It was just that he had to ask for leave.

It seemed that *Huacheng* was still very enterprising. Although they suffered a crushing defeat to the big brother *Harvest* in the last round, they still had advantages compared to others like *Contemporary* and *October*.

Wei Ming took his letter from the guard post and returned to the Spoon Garden.

Recently, his letters had increased again.

Every time a new work was published, there would be such a peak period for receiving letters. *Children's Literature* also had many, all starting at a hundred. After the second piece was published, there were even more discussions about the plot.

He read them carefully after finishing, and then put them back in the office cabinet in the dormitory. The cabinet was almost full.

Wei Ming read this batch of letters very carefully because besides pure readers, there were many who provided him with missing person information.

However, there weren't many reliable ones. After reading, Wei Ming classified these letters separately and mailed them back to his hometown for his mother to distinguish.

While reading the letters, suddenly, something fell on the window.

Wei Ming turned his head to look: Oh, it's snowing.

After the snow, it was Christmas. On this day, international students from Christian countries led by the UK and the US held a grand dance party.

Wei Ming not only participated himself, but at the begging of Biaozi and Xiao Mei, he also brought these two guys in, letting them open their eyes wide. In the future, when they go out, this will be capital for bragging.

Accompanying students also participated, such as Zha Jianying.

Xiao Zha wrote in her diary on this day: From the unrestrained and almost carnival-like dance of Wei Ming and Melinda, I only saw two words: reluctance.

On the last day of 1979, Wei Ming and Teacher Professor Hong Zicheng participated in this symposium held by *Huacheng*.

On the way to the scene, Teacher Hong also said to Wei Ming: "The academic circle also plans to hold a seminar for your *The Herdsman*."

Although it had only been published for half a month, *The Herdsman* was undoubtedly the best and most influential piece among Wei Ming's works, and it could already be considered a phenomenal work.

Wei Ming smiled: "Alright, when the time comes, you guys discuss yours, and I'll watch the gate for you. If anyone dares to say one bad thing, I won't open the door."

Professor Hong Zicheng laughed. This little Wei had always been cynical, and he had learned that in the classroom long ago.

Besides Wei Ming and Professor Hong Zicheng, writers like Liu Xinwu and scholars like Li Tuo also participated in this symposium. Wei Ming was undoubtedly the youngest among these people.

Seeing Liu Xinwu, Wei Ming's heart stirred. Actually, besides looking for donkey meat recently, he hadn't been idle and was conceiving a new work, and the new work was also about teachers.

Having audited so many teachers' classes at Peking University and met a music master like Gu Jianfen, Wei Ming wanted to write a story dedicated to educators.

So after the meeting, Wei Ming also exchanged with Liu Xinwu, and Liu Xinwu told him one thing.

"The 1979 National Excellent Short Story will be evaluated soon, and your *Spring River Water Warms the Ducks First* is also on the candidate list."

Last year was the first evaluation of the National Excellent Short Story, and the final selected ones would be summarized into a book for publication. Liu Xinwu's *The Head Teacher* was selected with the highest number of votes, and this short story also established his status in the literary world in one fell swoop.

Although scar literature was taken from Lu Xinhua's *Scar*, the literary world recognized that the masterpiece that pioneered scar literature was his *The Head Teacher*, which, like Jiang Zilong, could be considered as founding a school.

The meeting ended, and after having another sumptuous dinner, Wei Ming and Old Hong returned to Peking University under the stars.

This night, Wei Ming and Melinda did it from '79 all the way to '80, completing a very meaningful combined New Year's crossing.

1979 has passed, I miss it very much...

(End of chapter)