[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-252":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Rising in 1979",{"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},2260960,4412,"Chapter 252: Elegant, So Elegant!","rising-in-1979-chapter-252",252,"\u003Cp>“Where? Where is he?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming flashed past Qiao Cui in an instant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He was just here—he must be him, so tall.” Qiao Cui: “And so handsome.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hong, the editor-in-chief: “My brother did say he’d come to the book fair, but he didn’t say which day—everyone, keep looking.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming ran into another acquaintance, pulled aside by two men from Guangdong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of them Wei Ming knew—Chen Wenbin, editor of Huacheng; the other was formally introduced: “Teacher Wei, this is our chief editor and deputy director of Guangdong People’s Publishing House, Su Chen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, Director Su, honored to meet you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deputy Director Su had no airs—he chatted warmly with Wei Ming, then brought up the matter of commissioning work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Originally, when Wei Ming researched for his novel The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change, he traveled to Guangzhou and received some help from Huacheng.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, Huacheng’s strength among major literary journals ranks only behind People’s Literature and Harvest—it’s very powerful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming has never published a major work in Huacheng, and he himself always feels it’s incomplete; but this current long novel can only come to them after Harvest has rejected it, since there’s a first-come, first-served order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet seeing their eager gazes, Wei Ming thought for a moment and said: “I may have an original film script ready by year-end—I’ll consider Huacheng first.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, the two exchanged glances, their faces filled with satisfaction; meeting Wei Ming here was already a surprise, but now receiving such a promise from him was an unexpected joy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, as readers, they more eagerly anticipated Wei Ming’s year-long novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After parting with them, Wei Ming went to look for the People’s Literature Publishing House booth, hoping to see any new good books.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he heard someone shout: “Professor Ye and Professor Zang have arrived!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Professor Ye was of course Mr. Ye Shengtao; beside him stood a thinner, slightly younger old man—Professor Zang, Zang Kejia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Some people live though they are already dead; some people die yet still live. Some ride atop the people: ‘Ah, how great I am!’ Others bow down to serve the people as oxen and horses...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Some People” was precisely Zang Kejia’s representative poem; because Wei Ming’s high school Chinese teacher also bore the surname Zang, he remembered it vividly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These two were escorted by the manager of Yanjing Xinhua Bookstore to the People’s Literature Publishing House booth, whose collection was the most extensive on-site—including reprints of their past works.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Wei Ming approached, Bai Shurong, editor of Dangdai, spotted him; right before her stood Wei Ming’s Animal Ferocity, already its second printing since publication.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over the past year, Wei Ming’s prestige in the novel world rested largely on this collection of classic stories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled and greeted Editor Bai, who then pulled him over and introduced him to the two elders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Professor Ye, Professor Zang, this is Wei Ming, the author of The Herdsman.” Editor Bai said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming quickly greeted both; how good it was to have so many friends—he’d just been wondering how to approach them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, Xiao Wei, I know you,” Professor Ye’s smile carried two meanings: he not only knew Wei Ming was Wei Ming, but also knew Wei Ming was Wei what—after all, they both worked in children’s literature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the first chief editor of Poetry Magazine, Professor Zang knew less—he only knew Wei Ming, the amateur poet, stirred considerable discussion and widespread recitation in the poetry world with every new poem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know you too—you just write too few poems, not enough for even one poetry collection.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “My goal is to have my own independent poetry collection by the time I’m old—that’ll be enough.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But there are few classic modern poems left for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming chatted merrily with the two elders; a crowd of readers nearby also wanted to hear what the three famous writers were discussing, though one parent with a child looked puzzled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This young man was just “Wei something” over there—how did he become Wei Ming now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could he be a fraud?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Wei Ming and the two elders discussed novels and poetry, the Xinhua Bookstore manager invited the three writers to share their impressions of today’s book fair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Professor Ye and Professor Zang both highly praised the book fair for enriching the people’s spiritual and cultural needs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “I’m very satisfied with the book fair. May I make a suggestion to Xinhua Bookstore?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The manager’s expression grew serious, but he still smiled: “Teacher Wei, please speak.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “I’ve been here only an hour, flipped through more than ten books, and bought three. I think this direct, hands-on book-buying experience is excellent—why can’t our bookstores operate this way?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The manager paused—he knew Xinhua Bookstores currently worked like this: customers first decide what to buy, then tell the clerk behind the counter, who retrieves the book from the shelf.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming continued: “Just like the recently popular Oriental New World—remove the barrier between customer and product, trust the customer’s judgment, give them more choice—wouldn’t that be better?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good! Well said!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong, having finally found her elder brother, pretended to be a passerby and clapped along.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But since she was the only one, it felt awkward; yet Wei Ming’s words struck a chord with the readers, and soon others around began applauding enthusiastically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bookstore counter had always felt like a barrier against thieves—no one thought much of it before—but since Oriental New World appeared, that respectful, free-choice shopping experience was so much better, making the old model seem inadequate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not only the readers below thought so—even the venerable Professor Ye agreed: “The people’s voice must be heard, Xiao Sun—I think you should consider whether Xiao Wei’s suggestion is feasible.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Manager Sun nodded: “We’ll hold a meeting to discuss this seriously when we return. Thank you, Teacher Wei, for your suggestion.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Next came the photo session Wei Ming had been waiting for—a reporter from some unknown media outlet wanted to photograph the writers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The only flaw was that Manager Sun was mixed in too—it was a four-person photo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was getting late; after checking on the Sihe Academy, it would be time for dinner. Wei Ming counted heads—there were quite a few people he needed to treat today.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Xiao Hong, along with her several female classmates, stepped outside; the male classmates had already bought books and returned to campus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the female classmates wanted to visit Wei Ming’s home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming warmly welcomed them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then let’s go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait a moment.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a while, Li Xiaolin and He Chengwei emerged; Wei Ming introduced them to each other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He Chengwei still carried items—Shanghai specialties: a pack of White Rabbit candies, two bottles of Ginseng Cinnamon Nourishing Wine—he’d planned to head straight to the Overseas Chinese Apartment after work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the wine, Wei Ming felt a pang of time passing—he’d been to Shanghai around this time last year, and met Sister Xue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then let’s thank Editor He,” Wei Ming immediately tore open the package and handed out candies to the girls; only then did He Chengwei realize the Peking University girl who bought his book was Qiao Cui’s roommate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Peking University girls were more concerned about whether the serialized novel The Wasted Years in Harvest would conclude in the next issue—they all asked Editor Li.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, this representative work of the sent-down youth literature had gone viral—every girl had read it; hearing from Li Xiaolin that Harvest’s September issue had already been reprinted once, with a print run of 650,000 copies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Wei Ming struggle to push his motorcycle, Li Xiaolin offered to let him ride ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We’ll just stroll along with your sister.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright then.” Wei Ming took He Chengwei’s gifts and left first, checking if there was anything at home he didn’t want others to see.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After returning, Wei Ming knew his mother had been there—the leaves had been swept clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The study was fine too—the Playboy magazines were hidden; only one calligraphy piece by Qi Gong and a relatively inexpensive Qi Baishi painting remained—the most valuable artworks were kept at the Overseas Chinese Apartment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, by the way.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He quickly boiled water, brought out tea leaves and teaware, and placed them on the stone table in the courtyard, preparing to entertain guests.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The door was open; as Wei Ming was brewing tea, he heard voices outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Elegant! So elegant!” He Chengwei entered and saw Wei Ming brewing tea beneath the tree at the stone table—he immediately praised it, a touch envious—how comfortable it must be to live in this courtyard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming laughed: “Please, everyone, sit down. If there aren’t enough seats, Xiao Hong, bring some from inside.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qiao Cui said: “No need, Teacher Wei—we’ll stand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, yes, exactly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girls glanced around the great writer’s courtyard—so spacious! So clean! Much better than its original appearance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though all were city dwellers, none came from great wealth—this living condition was simply too comfortable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Xiaolin smiled: “Now you won’t have to worry about where to store readers’ letters.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong asked her brother: “Brother, can we see your study?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside, the girls chattered excitedly, marveling that Teacher Wei could do calligraphy too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had deliberately arranged his brush, inkstone, and other tools—he preferred writing at the Sihe Academy, so his writing implements were mostly kept here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He also considered that when Sister Xue came here, they could enjoy refined moments together—perhaps she grinding ink in front while he wrote behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Xiaolin didn’t forget why she was here: “Do you have your manuscript here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “The backup copy is kept here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When writing this long novel, he always made photocopies after every few pages—the backup stayed here, the original at the Overseas Chinese Apartment; if this hundreds-of-thousands-of-characters manuscript were lost, rewriting it might take longer than the original creation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Take War and Man, for example—author Wang Huo completed this 1.2-million-character epic in the 1960s.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This novel resembled The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change, with heavy depictions of Kuomintang elites, and during the special period, both author and work suffered—the unpublished manuscript was directly burned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Recently, China Youth Publishing House invited Wang Huo to rewrite it; he spent ten years on the first draft, fourteen years on the rewrite, and then won the Mao Dun Literature Prize alongside White Deer Plain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming handed the backup manuscript to Li Xiaolin, but advised her not to read it yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let’s have dinner first—you can take it back to the guesthouse to read; just return it afterward.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Xiaolin hugged the thick stack of manuscript, excited: “I don’t even want to eat now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girls came out, saw the manuscript; except for Ning Xin, all thought—if they could read it, they wouldn’t eat dinner tonight!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “What if dinner is Quanjude?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, Wei Ming treated them all to a fine meal at Quanjude—mainly to honor the two editors, who rarely came to Beijing; he could play host, and the girls just happened to get a free feast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Hong felt a pang—she should’ve refused more firmly; with these extra mouths, her brother spent at least ten yuan more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Wei Ming didn’t care about such small money—ten yuan was worth it to solidify Xiao Hong’s leadership in her dorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, from the early-month Oriental New World dividend, Wei Ming received another twenty thousand yuan—he now had over thirty thousand yuan in cash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But after personal income tax takes effect next year, his dividends will decrease.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During conversation, Wei Hong introduced the two senior editors to her Peking University Rubik’s Cube Club; she even boasted her solving time had stabilized under half a minute, dominating the entire math department.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Too bad she hadn’t brought the cube—couldn’t show them what a Rubik’s Cube even was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their club had only one cube, and they treasured it dearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “I’ll check the Friendship Store when I get a chance—if they have any, I’ll sponsor your club with a few; if not, I’ll ask my Hong Kong friends to buy some.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A club with just one Rubik’s Cube is ridiculous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dinner, Xiao Hong decided to stay overnight at her brother’s home and go to school the next morning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when they got home, Wei Ming was unsurprisingly asked about the sihe courtyard by his mother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, those pieces of furniture? I sold them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sold them?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, a friend liked them and offered a high price, so I sold them. After all, I wasn’t planning to use them right away—I’ll buy a few more later when I have time.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xu Shufen: “How much could you possibly get for a few old pieces of furniture? Your friend should’ve just bought new ones from a store.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “Mom, those old pieces weren’t cheap—I made over a thousand yuan. Some people just love them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?” Xu Shufen found it unbelievable. Was money really that easy to make in this big city? No wonder everyone wanted to come here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back at the Writers’ Association guesthouse, Li Xiaolin eagerly opened the novel “The Right Path of Humanity Is the Tide of Change” and plunged into reading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming’s writing spoke for itself—the opening was captivating. It began with Jiang Chixia, the first generation of the Jiang family, evoking the feel of a wuxia novel, yet set against the backdrop of the late Qing dynasty: the Six Gentlemen of the Hundred Days’ Reform, troop training at Xiaozhan, Western missionaries—history surged forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first chapter ended when Jiang Chixia entered the Baoding Military Academy. Li Xiaolin was still savoring this vivid, passionate teenager when, in the second chapter, he was already a father of two sons and one daughter, and a renowned military instructor in Zhili.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The story’s main perspective then shifted to his two sons, Jiang Lizhong and Jiang Limin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>……\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(Tomorrow I’ll definitely not write a short chapter.)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2324,"2026-06-19T16:30:58.707Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","3bf0ab321ac2a9f15fe007b0ebf22b3e21b086c065410a6676ec707ed55dbd4c","rising-in-1979-chapter-253","rising-in-1979-chapter-251",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]