[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-54":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},2260762,4412,"Chapter 54: Wei Ming: I","rising-in-1979-chapter-54",54,"\u003Cp>Tomorrow is October 1st, National Day; in the blink of an eye, Wei Ming has been reborn for a month—how fast time flies!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That day, all the school’s logistics staff sprang into action, making final preparations for the celebration of the motherland’s thirtieth anniversary.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming, tall and agile, was mainly assigned to hang the large red lanterns high up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finishing work, seeing he still had time, Wei Ming didn’t bother changing clothes—he went straight to attend the 1978 Chinese Literature class in his uniform, studying Hong Zicheng’s contemporary literature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The students in the classroom paid it no mind; Liu Zhenyun even warmly invited him to sit with him and shared his class notes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun had already heard from his senior classmates about Wei Ming’s standout performance in Professor Qu’s class, and he firmly believed Wei Ming was well-traveled and knowledgeable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he pointed to a few girls ahead and voiced a question that had puzzled him for a year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Wei, what are those girls doing? Are they chewing cud?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming followed his finger and saw several girls continuously chewing, yet never swallowing, their cheeks straining hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun was baffled—in his understanding, only cows exhibited such a habit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming held back his laughter and told Liu Zhenyun: “They’re chewing gum.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Isn’t gum supposed to be sucked on?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming whispered an explanation: “This is a new kind of candy called chewing gum—you chew it, it’s sweet and leaves your breath fragrant, but you mustn’t swallow it; once it loses flavor, you spit it out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah! There really is such a miraculous candy!” Liu Zhenyun’s small eyes widened in amazement; he was deeply grateful to Wei Ming for clearing up his confusion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He immediately thought of an important question: how wonderful it would be if he could buy this rare thing and give it to Mei Zi!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hmm, I’ll ask them after class where to buy it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After class, Liu Zhenyun and Wei Ming parted ways; as Wei Ming stepped out of the classroom building, he ran straight into Zhang Dening, editor of *Yanjing Literature*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This older sister smiled broadly, pulled Wei Ming aside, and instantly changed her expression once no one else was around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Comrade Wei, you promised *Yanjing Literature* would be the platform for your debut work—why did you submit to *Wenhui Daily*?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The way she said it, an outsider might think “submit” meant “surrender.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Editor Zhang, I said ‘first publication platform’—*Wenhui Daily* is a newspaper, and I didn’t lie.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Dening seemed to have anticipated this; she pulled a still-warm copy of *Weiminghu* from behind her back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is definitely a journal, and this poem ‘Ideal’ is definitely your work, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled again: “I didn’t make myself clear—I meant *Yanjing Literature* will be the first publication platform for my first novella.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For caution, Wei Ming added more qualifiers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Zhang Dening grew even more suspicious: “You didn’t submit another short story to another journal and get it published before us, did you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, absolutely not—I haven’t written much lately, been busy enriching myself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Dening sighed in relief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked: “Did you come to Peking University just for this magazine? I could’ve just mailed it to you with a phone call.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t flatter me—you’re famous now, who dares command you?” Zhang Dening shook her head, then added, “Actually, I came mainly to deliver your royalty payment; the magazine was just a side matter.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, the royalty came out so fast!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Although Wei Ming already had over two hundred yuan in hand, he wasn’t indifferent to money—Zhang Dening could hear his genuine joy. She smiled: “The issue is already printed, and I heard from colleagues in Shanghai that *Shouhuo* paid you in advance; of course, *Yanjing Literature* can’t lag behind.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a perfect moment for emotional investment before Wei Ming fully took off—but unfortunately, Zhang Dening hadn’t asked how much *Shouhuo* paid; otherwise, she’d have deliberately undercut them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Precisely because she didn’t know, she pushed hard to secure Wei Ming an exceptionally generous royalty rate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had him sign the royalty receipt, and Wei Ming saw the exact amount.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two Hundred Twenty-Five Yuan!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Two Oxen” was 45,000 characters—meaning *Yanjing Literature* paid five yuan per thousand characters, one yuan more than *Shouhuo*!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Add the payment from Shanghai, and Wei Ming now held over four hundred yuan—a fortune! I’m so rich!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His whole family back in the countryside would have to work for years to earn this much!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for four hundred yuan in cash, since they stopped Grandma’s tofu workshop, the household hadn’t seen this much money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Count it,” said Zhang Dening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming shook his head: “No need—I can feel the thickness matches *Shouhuo*’s, should be fine, and I trust you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Dening’s heart skipped a beat—matching thickness? Did *Shouhuo* also pay five yuan per thousand characters?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Impossible! *The Duck Knows the Warmth of Spring* hadn’t even been published yet—he was a complete newcomer; Li Xiaolin was too wasteful!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But royalty rates were writers’ private matters; though curious, Zhang Dening didn’t dare ask outright—maybe his word count was higher.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had one more thing to say.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wei, your story ‘The Duck Knows the Warmth of Spring’ has sparked wide public discussion, and some newspapers have published criticisms—don’t take it to heart.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, I’ve been criticized!” Wei Ming instinctively shuddered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Dening feared he was young and inexperienced, so she specifically reminded him now to prevent him from being startled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who doesn’t get criticized when writing? If no one criticized, what would Chinese Literature students do after graduation? Besides, there’s criticism, but more praise.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing there was praise, Wei Ming relaxed, then asked which newspapers were criticizing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As soon as Zhang Dening left, Wei Ming skipped dinner and went straight to buy newspapers—he wanted to see exactly how they criticized him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shanghai Traditional Chinese Medicine Factory No. 2.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn’t care about criticism or praise; Sales Department Head Liang Lu only knew that orders from Shanghai’s department stores and pharmacies had been pouring in these past two days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Editor Chen from *Wenhui Daily* was right—this story was more effective than ten advertisements!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching inventory dwindle, Workshop Director Wang Zhenxu was delighted but also regretful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He told Liang Lu: “You gave him two bottles of wine, I only gave one bottle of tiger bone wine—he’ll think I, Old Wang, am stingy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Lu laughed: “Our writer Wei is young and strong—he doesn’t need your tonic wine, Old Wang, you’re overthinking.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m worried he’s weak—heard novelists sit too long, get weak easily; nine and a half out of ten are weak.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As they spoke, Liang Lu’s phone rang again; he listened, then stood up, his expression brightening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s wrong, Chief Liang?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After hanging up, Liang Lu slapped the table excitedly: “Orders—from Beijing!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1135,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","950c287f54ed8c26223974779d41f5ffb36e6c03b9e5792954eadebd56ad3b42","rising-in-1979-chapter-55","rising-in-1979-chapter-53",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]