[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-82":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},2260790,4412,"Chapter 82: The Heavenly Book: Completed (410 Requests for First Subscription!)","rising-in-1979-chapter-82",82,"\u003Cp>The *Beijing Literature & Art* accepts fiction, essays, essays, and poetry—poetry is certainly acceptable, especially since Wei Ming is already renowned for his poems.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After publishing *Er Niu*, *Beijing Literature & Art* included a brief introduction to Wei Ming, and many readers wrote in, surprised to learn that the Wei Ming who wrote *The Duck Knows* and the Wei Ming who wrote *Ideal* were the same person.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If new poetry could achieve the same impact as *Ideal*, that would be fine too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Dening immediately smiled: “That’s perfect—I’ve reserved space for you in the November issue!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, appearing in two consecutive issues—wouldn’t that be too much?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s wrong with that? Chen Jiangong appeared in two consecutive issues too. For writers like you, fresh voices in the literary scene, we should offer stronger support—especially since *Er Niu* was such a success.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, was it that successful?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course!” Zhang Dening said. “After the reprint, circulation has matched the previous issue—reaching 180,000 copies!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, is that considered successful?” Wei Ming asked. Only 180,000? It still felt far behind *Shouhuo*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How isn’t it?” Editor Zhang said. “The previous issue was a special fiction edition—entirely fiction, naturally more attractive—and it was our highest-circulation issue this year. But this October issue only had two stories, and to hit this circulation is already a miracle. If we reprint once more, it’ll become the highest-circulation issue since the magazine’s relaunch!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She also believed another reprint was inevitable, because literary giants like Sun Li had already published reviews of *Er Niu*, inevitably sparking a “Wei Ming craze,” and demand for this issue of *Beijing Literature & Art* remained strong on the market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She told Wei Ming: “From reader letters, eight out of ten discuss *Er Niu*. Tell me—is that success or not?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She patted her bag: “I brought you the letters sent to the editorial office—you probably received some at school too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had indeed received many; he was barely keeping up with opening them—the bottom shelf of his cabinet was already full.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then maybe we can raise the rate next time!” Wei Ming raised a cheerful topic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Five yuan per thousand characters was already generous, but he wanted six—or even seven!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’d love to,” Zhang Dening scoffed, “but what’s the point of you, a poet, talking about raising rates?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming slapped his thigh: Right!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Back to the matter at hand—is this another long poem?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’ll see when you read it,” Wei Ming teased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He finished eating, so Zhang Dening urged him to go back and fetch the manuscript.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leaving the cafeteria, he glanced at the sun, then the clouds, walking slowly, troubled by what to write.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Editor Zhang, no need to come down—boys’ dorms stink. I’ll bring it up to you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back in his dorm, Wei Ming opened a blank notebook, thought for a moment, and hastily scribbled a few words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re it!” He tore off the paper, blew on the ink to dry it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Wei Ming return, Zhang Dening eagerly took the paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just one sheet—seemed short.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when she opened it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How short! Less than half a page!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Title: three characters—*Far and Near*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The body was only about twenty words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(You\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Look at me\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then look at the clouds\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I feel\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When you look at me, you’re far away\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When you look at the clouds, you’re close)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that was it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though dissatisfied with the brevity, Zhang Dening read it once, then read it again—hmm, this poem had something to it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It seemed obscure, yet wasn’t just nonsense—it touched on the distance and closeness between people, hinting at some philosophy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine, I’ll accept this one. Next time, remember *Beijing Literature & Art* when you have new work—fiction, essays, reportage, poetry—any genre.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No problem, but skip the introduction this time—I’m afraid poetry fans will flood me with letters.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Isn’t that a good thing?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “I don’t have time to reply, but if I don’t, I feel guilty—it’s torture.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, I’ll add a note: Author’s whereabouts unknown,” Zhang Dening chuckled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Perfect! Editor Zhang, take care,” Wei Ming sighed in relief—he’d finally gotten through it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Far and Near* was a poem Gu Cheng would write next year, one of his masterpieces, originally meant for *Poetry Magazine*—now, if *Poetry Magazine* wanted it, they’d have to reprint it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Zhang Dening left, the October issue of *Beijing Literature & Art* was indeed reprinted by another 20,000 copies, bringing total circulation to 200,000—still below *Shouhuo* and *People’s Literature*, but easily outpacing *Contemporary* and *October*, matching *Huacheng* in Guangzhou.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As expected, literary critics showed little interest in *The Duck Knows*, but great interest in *Er Niu*—related review articles indeed multiplied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming shed the label “reform literature writer” and entered a broader realm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet many literary analyses left him baffled—I didn’t think that deeply when I wrote it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A Shandong writer even traveled to Yimeng Mountain to investigate the real-life prototype and wrote a reportage piece.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid the chilly wind stirred by *Er Niu* in the literary world, more young writers were inspired. Yu Hua, a dentist from Yan County, learned from the story that ending with a man and an old ox evoked profound loneliness and atmosphere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hunan writer Gu Hua distilled from this novel one idea: Survive—survive like an animal!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Military man Guan Moye from Gaomi was struck by the name “Jiu’er”—perfect for bold, extraordinary women.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Wen, who had failed the college entrance exam and planned to retake it next year for the Central Academy of Drama, became deeply interested in the possible story between a timid, kind farmer and a captured Japanese soldier after reading this novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under this backdrop, Liu Zhenyun’s review article was accepted, earning him three yuan per thousand characters—six yuan total.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the first time earning money, Liu Zhenyun immediately asked a classmate to buy him chocolate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Jianmei, don’t ignore me—I didn’t mean it that way that day… If you won’t forgive me, then, then to atone, I’ll just eat this!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was… poop?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guo Jianmei gasped: “Brother, don’t do that—it’s not real, right… Oh no, don’t eat it! Throw it away! You… puking… puking…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And after eating it, Liu Zhenyun leaned close so she could smell it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guo Jianmei realized something was off—it didn’t stink?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Liu Zhenyun pulled out another chocolate: “Just kidding—I ate this chocolate. I bought it with my own fee. Now you eat one, I eat one… Isn’t it extra sweet?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guo Jianmei bit into it, scowling: “Hmm, weirdly sweet—sweet with a hint of bitterness.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun: “Oh? Really? Mine melted and didn’t taste bitter. Let me taste yours.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a little trick, Liu Zhenyun successfully shared a chocolate with Guo Jianmei—her lips were smudged, but her ears were red.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their relationship took a solid new step forward; Liu Zhenyun secretly gave Wei Ming a thumbs-up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Far away, Zhao Debiao and Mei Wenhua exchanged glances, feeling like lonely dogs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What the hell? Aren’t we on patrol? Why are you two doing this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the school didn’t ban dating, we’d lock you both up—one from Beida, one from Qinghua—only allowed to meet once a year on Qixi!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When work ended, they quickly changed out of their uniforms and rushed to the English Corner Wei Ming mentioned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, Wei Ming had just finished the final segment of *The Heavenly Book*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Yuan Gong was taken by the heavenly gods, Dansheng met a white monkey who stayed by his side; since the earlier text had hinted Yuan Gong was a white monkey who cultivated into a god, Dansheng named it “Monkey God.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two days ago, Cheng Long came to Peking University again and brought ten illustrations—he could finally submit his manuscript!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was getting late, so he decided to go out for a walk tomorrow. As he stepped outside, he ran into Uncle Anping.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Anping first congratulated his nephew on the success of *Er Niu* in the literary world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A few of my neighbors are from the Chinese Literature Department—they’ve all read this story. They say if you keep going, you’ll become the new leader of the literary scene!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming waved his hand, smiling: “I can’t possibly be that.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Internally: Besides me, who else could it be? Who else?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, by the way.” After chatting about *Er Niu* for a while, Uncle Anping pulled out a magazine for Wei Ming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the October issue of *Children’s Literature*, its cover showing a shepherd boy riding a donkey. Inside was a remittance slip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is your royalty slip—your auntie asked me to bring it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This royalty was forty yuan—five yuan per thousand characters, high for a fairy tale, surely thanks to Xiaoyan’s efforts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thank your auntie for me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Family doesn’t need thanks. By the way—have you finished your new piece?” Uncle Anping suddenly switched topics. “Oh, your auntie isn’t pressuring you—just curious.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t lie—she’s pushing for the manuscript. Editors and readers alike want to lock us authors in a dark room, writing from dawn till dusk, withholding meals if we’re slow, whipping us if we lag!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “Actually, I just finished today—I haven’t even corrected typos yet.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why bother correcting typos? Let the editors handle that. Come on, grab your manuscript and come home with me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At Wei Anping’s home, looking at the thick stack of manuscript, Lu Xiaoyan asked: “How long did this take?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Including preparation, about half a month.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s already fast. Don’t stress yourself. If it gets accepted, it’ll support you for at least three months.” Then Lu Xiaoyan began reading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She noticed beside *The Heavenly Book* was a subtitle: “Adapted from *Pingyao Zhuan*”—she was puzzled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming explained: “It’s a Ming dynasty fantasy novel, compiled by Luo Guanzhong and Feng Menglong. I read it from Professor Qu.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh~” Lu Xiaoyan continued reading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The story begins with a grand peach banquet in Tiangong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yuan Gong, the guardian of the Heavenly Book, was too low-ranking to attend and had to remain on duty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he had guarded the Heavenly Book for three thousand years, he never knew what it contained—so while the Jade Emperor was away, he secretly opened it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While Lu Xiaoyan was reading, Wei Anping finished putting the child to sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he returned to the living room, he saw his wife’s face flushed with barely contained excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She lowered her voice, thrilled: “The literary quality, the philosophical depth, the entertainment value—all have reached a brand-new height, Xiao Ming, you’ve improved so much!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1740,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","0f9b751a52c48f77038a0f5dc840d0dab868a3a71b845c687b7a2db6b738d99d","rising-in-1979-chapter-83","rising-in-1979-chapter-81",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]