Chapter 125: Original Soundtrack of the Novel (Guaranteed First Update)

"Never lonely, never troubled—look at my companions, scattered across the ends of the earth..."

Wei Ming’s voice wasn’t refined, but it was rich in emotion, and after having received vocal training from Teacher Gu for a while, he was certainly much improved from before.

Although the first part was sad, the latter part was uplifting; when he finished singing, one female editor in the editorial office actually burst into tears.

Wei Ming hurriedly asked: “Miss Editor, did this song remind you of some personal sorrow?”

The female editor waved her hand: “I’m fine—both my parents are alive and cared for, my husband turns over all his salary, my eldest is smart and well-behaved, and my in-laws take care of the little one.”

Damn, that was too infuriating—several female editors were already ready to strike, but she quickly added: “But because I’ve read the novel, I know how tragic Pipi’s fate is—he has no parents, and even the villagers ignore this poor child, yet Teacher Zhong remembers him and hopes he can integrate into the class, so it’s deeply moving.”

Others nodded in agreement; even those who hadn’t cried felt strongly moved, thinking the lyrics and plot blended perfectly.

Editor Tu asked again: “Can you also sing the other two songs, ‘The Little Girl Picking Mushrooms’ and ‘Planting the Sun’?”

Wei Ming nodded and sang them again, but lacking the liveliness of a child, the effect wasn’t as strong as ‘Little Grass’—yet everyone still clapped to encourage him.

Though his singing wasn’t great, these were his own compositions—he wrote all the lyrics, and two out of the three songs were his own melodies; that was truly impressive.

A true literary genius!

Editor Tu suggested: “If these songs could be recorded and performed, it would be even better—reading the novel while listening to the music.”

The fiction group leader Xu Yi added: “Of course, even without the songs, this is still an exceptional piece—we at ‘People’s Literature’ want it!”

This was the decision reached by the editors after discussion: Wei Ming’s novel was brilliantly written. Though it dealt with trauma, it didn’t dwell on the pain or over-sentimentalize it; it even had touches of light comedy, yet the suffering lay beneath the surface.

The principal and the village head—this father-son pair who didn’t resemble each other—symbolized power overriding human ethics.

A group of students who could barely spell their own names hinted at how they’d lost the time they should have spent learning during the movement.

The initial hostility and suspicion between teacher and students created a suffocating sense of hopelessness.

Wei Ming subtly indicated this was an abnormal world—delicately, yet profoundly.

Yet this abnormality was gradually corrected through education, softened by music; as the twenty-first, twenty-second, and finally the last child returned to the classroom, the children finally began to act like children again.

And the male lead, Teacher Zhong, transformed from a disillusioned university instructor, bitter and questioning “Where is spring?”, a man who pretended to care for children just to avoid labor, into a rural teacher who finally smiled and said, “Spring is on the hopeful fields,” treating each child as his own.

Several editors especially loved the story’s ending—it left them feeling warm, all bitterness gone.

At the story’s close, the movement ended; Teacher Zhong regained his status and returned to the city. None of the students came to see him off—but as he stepped out of the classroom, paper airplanes flew out the windows and landed at his feet.

He opened them and found they contained a lesson he’d taught in winter: “Draw your inner spring.”

He packed all the airplanes into his bag—they would become his most precious treasure from these years.

But as he reached the tractor waiting to take him away, the class’s most pitiful child, Pipi, finally couldn’t hold back—he broke through the principal’s blockade and ran out, hoping Teacher Zhong would take him along.

Teacher Zhong initially refused—but as the tractor started and rolled far away, seeing Pipi still standing helplessly at the crossroads, staring after him, Teacher Zhong shouted: “Stop! Stop the vehicle!”

He sprinted back, picked up Pipi, and carried him onto the tractor. The driver smiled and continued driving forward.

On the roadside fields, wheat was green—spring had come…

The editorial staff felt this novel might generate even greater impact than ‘The Herdsman’—the bond between teacher and student was heart-wrenching, the music’s clever use was masterful, and they felt Wei Ming must have studied some educational theory.

They unanimously decided to publish this novel in the February issue after the Spring Festival, a particularly competitive issue that would set a strong tone for the new year.

“Doesn’t it need revisions?” Wei Ming asked.

The answer was no—so Wei Ming could leave now and just wait to collect his royalty next month.

This novel was sixty thousand characters—another few hundred yuan in income.

After leaving ‘People’s Literature,’ Wei Ming went to visit Teacher Gu Jianfen’s home. She lived in a corridor-style apartment building not far from her workplace, the Central Song and Dance Troupe; her eldest daughter, Gu Ying, opened the door for him.

Knowing she had children, Wei Ming immediately pulled out chocolate, and soon earned a “Big Brother Ming.”

Because Teacher Gu had traveled abroad, they’d tasted this before—but hadn’t had any in a long time.

He then greeted Gu’s husband, Xing Bo, and began discussing with Teacher Gu the arrangements for recording and releasing the songs.

The ‘People’s Literature’ editors were right—if the three songs from the novel, plus ‘Where Is Spring?’ and ‘On the Hopeful Fields,’ could be recorded and released, their melodies and thematic significance would easily make them spread nationwide, significantly boosting the novel’s reception.

Others only had original soundtracks for films—here, a single novel had this honor; it was a kind of pioneering achievement.

Teacher Gu praised the lyrics Wei Ming had finally completed for ‘On the Hopeful Fields’ endlessly.

“Excellent! Wonderful! I can help with this. Five songs total—what are your requirements?”

Wei Ming: “Since my novel concerns children’s education, I hope children can sing them, and I want ‘Where Is Spring?’ to be sung by Lele.”

Teacher Gu: “I agree—Lele is perfect for that one. I’ll find singers and recording venues for you.”

Of course, don’t even think about making money from recording and releasing these songs now—just not charging you is already a favor.

Whether singer or composer, no matter how famous, it’s ten yuan per song—whether it sells millions later, you won’t get a cent more.

After leaving the Central Song and Dance Troupe, it was nearly dark; Wei Ming hurried back to Peking University.

But halfway there, two vehicles suddenly darted out from an alley—he recognized them.

Damn! They’re back already!

The two were sprinting like they were racing to be reborn, and behind them someone shouted: “Stop! Catch them!”

Wei Ming quickly tripped and fell, his bike landing squarely across the alley entrance. Since it was freezing and icy, his fall looked perfectly natural—the police officer in the big cap could only help him and the bike up first.

Wei Ming grabbed him angrily: “Comrade, what’s going on? Are these murderers or dog spies?”

!

“Oh no, they’ve run too far!” The officer groaned, slapping his thigh.

“Since they’re already gone, tell me—so I can help catch them next time.”

“They’re selling audiovisual products and clothes without permits!” the officer snapped.

“Absolutely despicable!” Wei Ming echoed angrily.

After the officer left, a faint voice came from behind Wei Ming: “Big Brother Ming, over here!”

Wei Ming turned and saw Mei Wenhua—he wasn’t wearing his glasses, and even though it was nearly dark, he had on mirrored sunglasses; his pants weren’t ordinary—they were bell-bottoms, which hadn’t even become popular yet. They were trying to lead a fashion trend.

Wei Ming pushed his bike over and saw Zhao Debiao pulling things out from behind.

He finally pulled them out and handed Wei Ming two pairs of mirrored sunglasses, still tagged: “Big Brother Ming, these are for you, Brother Feng, and Brother Long—take them back. We’ll come back to school in a couple days after selling everything.”

Wei Ming looked at the big bundle: “You’ve got so little money—how much did you buy?”

Biaozi grinned: “Clothes take up the most space.”

Mei Wenhua explained: “We were worried the sunglasses wouldn’t sell, so we bought some of everything—sunglasses, cassette tapes, digital watches, and bell-bottoms. The stuff there was dirt cheap—we sold it back here for two or three times the price!”

Seeing their eyes gleaming, Wei Ming asked: “Have you already recouped your capital?”

Both nodded: “We’re already making profit—it sells really well, but we keep getting watched.”

Not just by the police, but by competitors too—anyone in the capital with foresight and guts had already started becoming a “dao ye.”

Luckily, Biaozi was skilled in martial arts—he could handle ten men at once, so he wasn’t afraid of rivals, as long as he avoided the police.

He gave them a few more safety reminders; as he rode out of the alley, Wei Ming glanced back at the spot where no one was visible, wondering if this southern trip might open a new world for them.

People find it easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to return from luxury to frugality—once you’ve tasted the convenience money brings, you won’t be able to stop.

Back at the South Gate Dormitory, Wei Ming put on the sunglasses before entering.

“Brother Feng, I’m back!”

When Brother Feng also put on the mirrored sunglasses, Wei Ming finally realized—wearing sunglasses with their ragged cotton-padded coats looked utterly ridiculous.

So he decided to go into town soon and buy a wool coat and leather shoes—time for an upgrade.

But two days later, Zhao Debiao and Mei Wenhua returned—wearing leather shoes, bell-bottoms, and trench coats, sunglasses on, cigarettes dangling, exuding heroic flair.

But as soon as they returned, the gate guards stopped them, thinking they were vagrants.

Mei Wenhua took off his sunglasses and put on his glasses—only then did the guards recognize him.

“Oh my, you two—you’ve really made it!” Everyone gathered around to hear their boasts.

When they got back to the dorm, Wei Ming looked at Biaozi: “We’re inside now—can you take off the sunglasses?”

Biaozi obediently removed them—then Wei Ming and Qiao Feng burst out laughing: this kid was still wearing two pairs—the first pair left two dark circles around his eyes.

Yet despite being beaten black and blue, Biaozi didn’t get angry—he just burst into a shy, giggling laugh, covering his face…

(End of Chapter)