[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-87":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},2260795,4412,"Chapter 87: Print More! Print Even More! (910 Requests for First Subscription!)","rising-in-1979-chapter-87",87,"\u003Cp>The editorial office of the magazine *Contemporary*, launched in July this year, is located at No. 166 Chaoyangnei Street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first issue printed 70,000 copies, sold out immediately, established a basic framework of “comprehensive literary genres with emphasis on long-form documentary works,” and upheld realism as its editorial banner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second issue printed 110,000 copies and was quickly absorbed by the market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The third issue, due in December, has already completed manuscript collection, featuring Wang Meng’s novella *Bu Li* and Mo Yingfeng’s serialized novel *The General’s Chant*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Also included are essays by Yao Xueyin and Liu Xinwu, and prefaces by Mao Dun and Ba Jin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With such a powerful lineup, they felt even conservatively, they should print at least 130,000 copies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Knock knock~”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Come in.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello everyone, I’m Wei Ming, here to submit a manuscript.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, you’re Writer Wei! So young!” Editor Liu Yin spotted him first, but Bai Shurong quickly took over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Yin: Hey, you’re guarding your food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wei, sit down! Finished this fast?!” Bai Shurong beamed—it was over half a month ahead of the agreed deadline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, this is actually slow.” Wei Ming smiled, though the original content was more substantial and took considerable effort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you in a hurry to get back to your unit?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not at all—I work night shift; I just need to be back at Peking University by six.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then I’ll read quickly—if I find issues, I’ll mark them so you won’t have to come back.” Bai Shurong was about to flip through it when several editors gathered around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let’s read together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Bai Shurong read first, then passed the page to the next person, who read the second page—this way, four or five people could read the same manuscript simultaneously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But some read faster, others slower, inevitably leading to impatience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can you hurry up?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can you stop rushing?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming’s prose remained sharp—decades of writing had honed it into polished precision; no one could find fault.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The story remained deeply compelling: it opened with a clash between a destitute son and his billionaire father returning from overseas, the father accompanied by a young, beautiful mistress—the stark contrast maximized dramatic tension and sparked curiosity about the protagonist’s past and choices.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Should he accept his father’s offer to move abroad and inherit billions?” This was the novel’s central suspense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure “billions” was so immense that readers couldn’t resist seeing the ending; it took several moments for the readers present to even grasp the scale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Initially, they assumed Xu Shengfang wouldn’t refuse—after all, everyone knew foreign living conditions were superior, and countless people desperately sought to leave, especially since Xu Shengfang was a “rightist.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as Xu Shengfang’s memories of ranch life and his wife interwove into the narrative, the readers’ views began to shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even until Xu Shengfang’s final refusal before his father’s plea, they still believed acceptance was the likely outcome—after all, the father promised he could bring his wife and children along; he wasn’t asking him to abandon them like Chen Shimei.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he still refused. The readers’ first reaction was regret, then shame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then they began recalling Xu Shengfang’s words and actions, his dialogues with his father, and slowly understood—and came to admire—his integrity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Shurong finished first. At the end, Wei Ming had added a note: This story is adapted and refined from the lives of the author’s parents and the couple Yan Ji and Wang Bailing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She put down the manuscript and pulled Wei Ming aside to talk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Currently, reflective literature dominates, and everyone is criticizing. But your story seems to go against tradition—your tone is gentler, less aligned with today’s mainstream discourse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Yes, I wrote another unconventional story.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Another?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming explained: “*The Tale of Two Donkeys*—the one I submitted to *Shouhuo*—was also an unconventional educated youth story.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You say it’s adapted from your parents and this couple’s experiences—what’s their story?” Bai Shurong asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn’t her fault—Yan Ji and Wang Bailing had only just returned from Brazil before National Day; coverage of them was still limited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later this year, major newspapers like *People’s Daily* and *Guangming Daily* would publish reports on them, followed by Zhang Xianliang’s *Spirit and Flesh*.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This couple researched superior pig breeds in the northwest. I first heard Wang Bailing’s name at last year’s National Science Conference; she also had overseas Chinese status…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Actually, last year they received Brazilian visa letters—five family members were approved to emigrate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Because they’d been separated from their parents for thirty years, they decided to visit them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Once there, their parents’ wealth ensured everything—jobs, education, housing—was arranged effortlessly, even green cards were secured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They stayed a full year; no one expected them to abandon such comfortable overseas conditions and return to China’s hardships. But recently, all five returned home.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah!” Bai Shurong exclaimed—was there really someone like Xu Shengfang in real life?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Shurong planned to look up related reports later, then asked: “Did your parents’ experience resemble theirs?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, my father didn’t have a billionaire father—but his elder brother was across the strait. Still, since villagers were kind, he never suffered much. The love story between Xu Shengfang and Wei Fenfang in the novel is mainly drawn from my parents—my mother was a girl who fled famine from Sichuan-Chongqing, taken in by my grandmother, then married my father; she’s never found her family on the other side…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After explaining the story’s background, Wei Ming asked: “Editor Bai, should I take it back to revise?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The editors who had circulated the manuscript whispered, “Why revise? Just publish it!” Bai Shurong smiled, “I have no problems—it’s a superb topic, exactly the voice this era needs. Go back now; I’ll show it to the person in charge later.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Although Yan Wenjing currently performs the duties of editor-in-chief, he has not been formally appointed; externally, he is referred to as “the person in charge.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming nodded, bid farewell to the editors, and Bai Shurong went to find Yan Wenjing, while the others continued discussing the story.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This story will be a hit!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I think it’ll be even bigger than *Two Oxen*!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Definitely—*The Herdsman* has such a strong subject advantage!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Two Oxen* could even be classified as an anti-Japanese novel—a genre long out of fashion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its huge popularity stemmed entirely from Wei Ming’s fresh writing style, bold and mature prose, and enthusiastic reviews from critics—over ten essays from Peking University alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s one advantage of being backed by Peking University.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading the full manuscript, Yan Wenjing suddenly felt their initial estimate of 130,000 for the third issue was too conservative.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why not print 150,000 right away?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even *Yanjing Literature*’s first print run didn’t reach this number—he was aiming to surpass *Yanjing Literature* outright!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Shurong smiled and asked: “Chief Editor, what about the royalty rate…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After returning to Peking University, Wei Ming went straight to work, but when he and Mei Wenhua reached Shao Garden, he asked Mei to wait outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Master, I’m going in to see someone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua watched enviously as Wei Ming slipped inside effortlessly, then ran to the women’s dormitory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: Damn, is he really dating her? We were just joking!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He craned his neck—thankfully, Wei Ming was stopped at the gate; the dorm supervisor was reasonable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But soon a red-haired beauty in pajamas came down and forcibly dragged Wei Ming into the dorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua groaned, wanting to bang his head against the wall—no way, he’s serious?! This was worse than eating shit!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was Wei Ming’s second visit to Mei Lida’s dorm, and Zhang Jianying from the ’77 Chinese Department was there too—fully dressed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wei, you and Mei Lida? You two…” Zhang Jianying stared in disbelief at the first male visitor to the dorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Lida: “Don’t misunderstand—Leonardo is my client. Speak up—whose music do you want?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Find some classic folk songs from rural areas,” Wei Ming said. Mei Lida began operating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Jianying: “Leonardo?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “That’s me—they gave me this English name. I like Da Vinci.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why not just call yourself Da Vinci?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming shook his head: “Don’t you think Leonardo sounds cooler?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming worried Mei Wenhua might die waiting, so he said: “Record slowly—I’ll pick it up tomorrow. How much?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Friends don’t charge,” Mei Lida said generously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thanks, Mei Lida. I’ll swap a few more magazines—I’ve finished the ones I had.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Help yourself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Wei Ming reached for *Playboy*, Zhang Jianying’s eyes widened—she wouldn’t even approach the box; the woman on the cover wore too little—indecent! How could she ever marry?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But she assumed men all loved such things—unfortunately, she was wrong. Wei Ming had seen far more explicit material; *Playboy*’s soft-core appeal was mediocre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming stayed nearly ten minutes before leaving; the dorm supervisor didn’t time him—there was a resident present, so nothing could happen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let’s go, Xiao Mei.” Wei Ming pulled the dazed Mei Wenhua back to patrol.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Ming, why don’t we speak English?” Mei Wenhua realized: mastering math, physics, and chemistry was useless compared to mastering English!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said a simple English phrase. Seeing Mei’s blank expression, he patted his shoulder: “We can’t really talk yet—you need more practice.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What did you just say?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “A classic line from the Hollywood movie *Star Wars*.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, Mei Wenhua began practicing English: “Oh-ban-to, oh-ban-to, a, b, a, n…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid his chanting, Wei Ming heard another voice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wei, would you like to attend the Writers’ Congress?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming blinked sleepily and saw Chen Jiangong standing on tiptoe to look at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old Chen, what’s this about?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Jiangong held up a badge: “You’ve been nominated—officially invited to attend the Writers’ Congress!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1609,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ef49bbcd75b44aa69f102303026dbb6466389a97b5878192d6cf25f48c3cf08f","rising-in-1979-chapter-88","rising-in-1979-chapter-86",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]