[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-71":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},2260779,4412,"Chapter 71: My Brother Is a Writer 20 (Please Follow!)","rising-in-1979-chapter-71",71,"\u003Cp>Old Wei’s words made Xu Shufen blush deeply; she lightly punched him a few times while sewing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s there to write about? Aren’t you embarrassed?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s the big deal? Let me tell you both—back then I was climbing a tree to steal bird eggs when your grandma came running over and asked if I wanted a wife. Your uncle was away at county school, no one to play with, so I thought, if you offer, I’ll take it…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mother’s cheeks grew redder, but she didn’t stop Wei Jiefang—those were her happiest memories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She didn’t know what love meant; she only knew she’d married a good man who would never let her go hungry if he had food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She only knew she’d given birth to two wonderful children: her son, though poor at school, was a literary genius; her daughter always ranked first in her grade, never needing any worry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Old Wei spoke, Wei Ming suddenly knew what to write for his next novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But their love story alone felt too plain; he thought he could add some popular elements.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For instance, the male lead is a rightist with a wealthy father living overseas who suddenly returns to take him abroad and leave him a fortune.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That night, Wei Ming wrote a new title on a sheet of letter paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Donkeys have been written about, oxen too, ducks as well—this time, write about a “horse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The full moon of the sixteenth is roundest, most stirring for thoughts of distant loved ones—wonder if those overseas sojourners at this moment also miss their kin left behind in the homeland.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Early the next morning, Old Wei brought a horse-drawn cart to take his son to the station and his daughter to school.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “Aren’t you afraid Zhao Chun will accuse you of misusing public resources?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei snorted: “Today’s high school opening day—several kids from the village are going. Who else should I send? If Zhao Chun doesn’t like it, let his eldest daughter walk to county town.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the brigade had a tractor, it clearly had bigger uses; horses and mules were cheaper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei drove around the village, and the cart carried five or six students, including Zhao Zhaodi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong enthusiastically recited Wei Ming’s poems to everyone, saying they’d be useful for essays.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The word “ideal” appears too often in high school essays—even if the topic isn’t about it, slipping in a couple lines won’t hurt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wei Hong, slow down—I can’t keep up!” A clever classmate had already started taking notes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong proudly pulled out her notebook: “Copy it yourselves—I’ll need it back at school.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon entering town, they reached the county high school; Wei Jiefang dropped off the students first, then his son.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Wei Hong and the others had even left, a young man with glasses sped up on his bike and pulled to a stop beside them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiao Ming—is that you, Xiao Ming?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone chorused: “Teacher Zang!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zang Kefou was Wei Hong’s homeroom teacher and Wei Ming’s Chinese language instructor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Teacher Zang studied Wei Ming, who hadn’t been seen in over two months, then offered him an adult’s greeting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gripped Wei Ming’s hand: “Welcome back to your alma mater—come in for a while; the principal and directors miss you dearly!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “Teacher Zang, I miss you all too—but time waits for no one. I need to catch the bus; let’s just chat here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh dear, what a pity! But I’ve already read your novel in the Wen Hui Bao. After reading Wei Hong’s essay, I thought you specialized in children’s literature—never expected you’d produce such a sharp, incisive reformist masterpiece!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Huh? Essay? What essay?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“‘My Brother Is a Writer,’ of course,” said Teacher Zang, glancing at Wei Hong. “Wei Hong, you still don’t fully understand your brother—write another one later.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong nodded vigorously—she’d been bursting to write the upgraded version: “My Brother Is a Writer 2.0!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the way, Xiao Ming—did you really go to Shanghai?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, stayed a few days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No wonder your writing feels so vivid—but why go so far?” Zang Kefou was curious, since Wei Hong’s essay claimed her brother’s main job was protecting all faculty and students at Peking University.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “I submitted a novella to Shouhuo—they called me in to revise it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shou… Shouhuo!” Teacher Zang stammered, his face filled with disbelief. Honestly, as a Chinese teacher, he’d submitted work too—but only to local Hebei newspapers, and even then, nine out of ten rejections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought he’d need real talent before even considering provincial journals like Hebei Literature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet his own student had already been recognized by Shouhuo—the most prestigious literary journal in the land!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then… did you meet Old Ba?” Teacher Zang asked, barely concealing his excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “I did—he even gave me a signed copy of his novel.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other students stared in shock—was that Old Ba of Lu, Guo, Mao, Ba, and Cao?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong was stunned too—why didn’t you tell me this, brother? You’re too modest!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Checking the time, Wei Ming realized it was nearly up; before leaving, he told Old Zang: “I brought some study materials and past exams from Shanghai’s top schools for Xiao Hong. Teacher Zang, you and the other subject teachers take a look—if useful, share them with the students.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh my, this is wonderful!” Zang Kefou gripped Wei Ming’s hand again. “I never thought you’d still care so much for your alma mater—you’re truly thoughtful!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong basked in grateful glances from her classmates—she’d be able to walk tall from now on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had told her this last night: with her grades, her classmates posed no threat—her real rivals were the top students across the province: from Shijiazhuang No.1 and No.2 High Schools, Xinzhi Middle, and Wuyi Middle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After saying this, Wei Ming bid farewell to Teacher Zang and the others, then climbed onto his father’s cart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only when the cart turned the corner did Teacher Zang turn away, then say to Wei Hong: “No word limit on the essay—once done, I’ll post it up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Hong’s lips curled—her creative urge was now nearly uncontrollable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang watched the bus bound for Hengzhou depart before driving the cart back to the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the way, he stopped by the neighboring commune, where there was a brick factory—he’d ordered bricks to build a west room. Since it was for his son, he’d build it well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then there were the wooden materials—he could get those in the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around noon, Wei Jiefang returned to the village, and as he entered, he encountered a small car behind him—his cart ahead, the car following.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The road was too narrow; the car had to crawl along behind. Once inside the village, the car immediately overtook him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching the car speed away, Wei Jiefang thought: Compared to a car, a motorcycle didn’t even count—he wondered if he’d ever get to drive one himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet shortly after, that same car circled the village and stopped right at his front gate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A middle-aged man with glasses stepped out and asked: “Is this the home of Comrade Wei Ming?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, who are you?” Wei Jiefang and Xu Shufen stepped out together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man opened his mouth to speak, when another man clumsily scrambled out from the other side of the car—it was Jia the accountant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He said excitedly: “Brother Jiefang, this is Comrade Wang Shunchen, Deputy Commissioner in charge of culture and education for Hengzhou Prefecture!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xu Shufen whispered: “What rank is a deputy commissioner?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang whispered back: “If Jia Saner calls me brother, he’s probably higher than the county revolutionary committee director.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei grinned: “Commissioner, you came at a bad time—my son’s already left. What did you want with him?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Left? Oh, what a pity. Actually, I didn’t come for anything special—just passed through Henghe River and thought I’d meet Comrade Wei Ming, this young talent. Too bad we missed each other.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jia the accountant hurriedly said: “Should we chase him down?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang and Commissioner Wang both frowned; Wang waved his hand: “If fate intends it, we’ll meet again. Brother, Sister—no need to trouble you further.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang’s brow furrowed deeper—am I that old?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Commissioner Wang left, Jia the accountant still hovered around, calling Wei Jiefang “brother” over and over—he’d finally seen just how powerful Wei Ming had become.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Actually, he had no real power—just some fame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To pass the time on the journey, Wei Ming bought several newspapers at the bus station. When he opened a copy of Guangming X Bao, he spotted a review of “Duck Knows First” on page three.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ren Ri and Guangming—two of the biggest newspapers—had both covered his novel!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though primarily meant to encourage unemployed youth to find their own paths, the combined circulation of Wen Hui Bao, Zhongqing Bao, Guangming X Bao, Renmin X Bao, and several smaller papers likely reached tens of millions, covering readers in the tens of millions!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With such massive exposure, Wei Ming felt—he might actually go viral!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1507,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e4ae70bafcd3f16217f7c724690757400d8731db5dec002c963c2fa45c8e8120","rising-in-1979-chapter-72","rising-in-1979-chapter-70",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]