[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981":3,"chapter-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-42":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","That Year, the Flowers Bloomed in 1981",{"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},2294460,4489,"Chapter 42: Talking About Demons, But Seeing Ghosts","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-42",42,"\u003Cp>Ms. Ke changed her mind and refused to be listed as a co-author on Li Ye’s “Infiltration” because last night, Wen Leyu gave her a new novel manuscript.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Wen Leyu first wanted to learn novel writing from Li Ye, Li Ye chose a “collaborative creation” model for real-time teaching and asked Wen Leyu to provide the story setting and character materials.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The materials were naturally provided by Ms. Ke, and on the very day she supplied them, she began writing herself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She wanted to test whether she could write a novel as good as “Infiltration.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke was proud of her own abilities and was no stranger to literary writing; she believed that with “Infiltration” as a reference, she could surely produce something with at least some merit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke’s writing went smoothly—after all, she was a university graduate from the 1960s and had previously published literary works, so her command of language was unquestionable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, many of the character prototypes in her materials were stories she had heard from her elders, and putting them into words now was merely a matter of retelling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more she wrote, the easier it became, and soon she had a promising opening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading it over several times, she felt a quiet confidence and planned to let Li Ye see it in a few days, “to learn from each other.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Collaborative creation meant shared effort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unfortunately, before Ms. Ke could give her manuscript to Li Ye, Wen Leyu brought Li Ye’s manuscript to her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading it, she sat up all night again, just as she had when she first read the “Infiltration” draft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People compared to people die; goods compared to goods get thrown away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the same character materials and the same story setting, the resulting works were entirely different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If forced to compare, Ms. Ke’s story was like a pot of salty, haphazardly boiled vegetables—bland, barely filling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Li Ye’s story was a sizzling, well-balanced feast—colorful, aromatic, flavorful, and nutritious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All the missing seasonings and cooking techniques were Li Ye’s own private additions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke’s story was essentially “accounting fiction”—elegant prose but dull plot—while Li Ye’s was true literary fiction with rich narrative depth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When dawn began to lighten outside the window, Ms. Ke laughed bitterly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She finally understood how unprofessional and presumptuous her earlier request to add her name as a co-author had been.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye didn’t need her help at all—her help only caused trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though she had truly been desperate at the time, unwilling to let go of even a straw, was that a valid justification?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And looking at the manuscript in her hands, Ms. Ke could feel that Li Ye had genuinely tried to help her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The novel, temporarily titled “Fugitives of the Fire,” was a “high-end custom text” perfectly tailored to Ms. Ke’s heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though only an opening, the soldiers who sacrificed their blood for the light were vividly portrayed by Li Ye through multiple techniques, leaving a deep impression at first glance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that mattered greatly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the book was finished, when Ms. Ke showed it to certain people, if they formed an impression, her long-forgotten husband would surely be remembered again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke had never explained to Li Ye what she needed—but Li Ye had precisely given her what she most desired.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sincerity in dealing with others is mutual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke immediately decided to apologize to Li Ye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She would show Dong Yuejin her own previously published works and admit her shortcomings—indirectly elevating Li Ye’s literary standing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, Li Ye was still too young and easily underestimated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In front of Li Ye’s parents, humbly admitting her own inadequacies didn’t feel humiliating to Ms. Ke—on the contrary, it felt entirely appropriate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke had watched her daughter’s changes; who knew what might develop between her and Li Ye in the future? But she absolutely couldn’t let his parents gossip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I toast you both—congratulations on raising such a fine son and grandson.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ms. Ke raised her glass and formally toasted Li Zhongfa and Li Kaibian.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nonsense, the boy is still young—we still need your guidance, Ms. Ke!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhongfa and Li Kaibian were seasoned socialites; they didn’t hold back, clinking glasses, and the private room buzzed with warmth and cheer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, with Ms. Ke’s involvement, everyone had automatically filled in explanations for certain doubts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye was still too young; writing a spy thriller like “Infiltration” lacked credibility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, with Ms. Ke standing beside him, she had inadvertently filled that gap—everyone assumed she had told Li Ye many stories to serve as his foundation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon after, Li Ye noticed Dong Yuejin’s face turning red and sweating—he knew Dong’s alcohol tolerance was low; if he got drunk, they couldn’t discuss business.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Business on the drinking table works best between “slightly tipsy” and “drunk”—drunk, words mean nothing; sober, words mean nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Li Ye seized an opportunity to interject: “Editor Dong, did the publisher mention anything about royalties?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Editor Dong had prepared for this and replied confidently: “Of course—they offered you five yuan per thousand characters. That’s already high for a new author.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Five yuan?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye was clearly disappointed. The state standard was three to ten yuan per thousand characters; five yuan for a debut author seemed decent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But for a book like “Infiltration,” five yuan per thousand characters was far from high.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye paused for a few seconds, then asked again: “Editor Dong, what’s the royalty rate? What percentage?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Royalty?” Dong Yuejin blinked. “What royalty?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye was equally stunned. He thought a moment: “The print-run royalty—didn’t the State restore print-run royalties in 1980?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin looked embarrassed. “I’m not actually sure about that...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye frowned—he didn’t know whether Dong was genuinely unaware or pretending ignorance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because in his past life writing web novels, he had once, out of envy for the high royalties of top authors, casually read about China’s royalty system.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Royalties had been introduced to this land in the 1920s; Hu Shi and others lived comfortably in Beijing, where “it’s hard to live,” thanks to royalties.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By 1980, the State had restored the long-suspended royalty system, setting a base rate of “5% for every 10,000 copies,” which later increased repeatedly—even Han X had received 20%.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Li Ye didn’t know that while the State had set the rules, actual implementation of this author-friendly policy only happened after “Shuo Ye” emerged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Li Ye didn’t know that—he thought he had misremembered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he probed: “Then, Editor Dong, is the 1980 royalty standard three to ten yuan per thousand characters for original works, and two to seven yuan for translations?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin was equally awkward. He nodded: “Yes, that’s correct—but print-run royalties... I’ll verify with the publisher...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he hadn’t misremembered. For a moment, Li Ye felt uneasy, and his smile grew noticeably colder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin was also in a bind. Though “Infiltration” was truly an exceptional work, without proven sales, it couldn’t erase the power imbalance between publisher and author.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a new author like Li Ye, Dong Yuejin had already been unusually kind and accommodating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this era, there were plenty like Feng Bo of Dahe Publishing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhongfa and Li Kaibian felt uneasy too—so the maximum was ten yuan, minimum three, and they’d only given their grandson five? And they’d cut off future earnings?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhongfa burst into laughter and raised his glass: “Come on, Editor Dong, let’s drink! Kids are picky—don’t take it to heart. We didn’t write this book for the money, did we?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Kaibian, a retired reconnaissance soldier, took advantage of the drinking to quietly retrieve Li Ye’s manuscript and tightly pack it into his bag.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[A thousand yuan to buy my son’s treasure? Is that a lot of money?]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hao Jian’s malt sugar business was booming. Two days ago, Jin Peng came to report—this batch’s profit share might reach three thousand yuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So the Li family’s attitude toward money had changed from before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin, heavily drunk, grabbed his bag to pull out the contract and finalize publication with Li Ye—only to realize the unfinished manuscript was gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was like being mid-episode and losing power and internet—agonizingly suspended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this also subtly reminded Dong Yuejin: if even a seasoned editor like him was so hooked, what would ordinary readers do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Ye’s second half of the manuscript far exceeded Dong Yuejin’s expectations—and solidified his decision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[“Infiltration” is a great book—I must secure it!]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled out the contract and smiled at everyone: “We’ve drunk, we’ve eaten—time for business. Here’s the publisher’s contract for ‘Infiltration.’ Li Ye, take a look...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why the rush?” Li Kaibian grabbed Dong Yuejin’s shoulder warmly. “Editor Dong, you’ve come all the way to Qingshui—you must let us host you for a few days. Tonight, we drink again...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin smacked his lips—he knew this was going to get complicated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he was a man of responsibility and immediately declared: “No more drinking—we’d delay work. I’ll call the publisher and try to negotiate a higher royalty. Is that acceptable?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Kaibian was momentarily surprised, then slapped Dong’s shoulder hard. “Old Dong, you’re a straight shooter—I’m keeping you as a friend.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Kaibian paused in surprise, draped an arm over Editor Dong’s shoulder and gave him a hearty pat. “Old Dong, you’re a straightforward man. Regardless of anything, I’m taking you as a friend.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin left the restaurant, firmly refusing Li Kaibian’s further hospitality, and went to the post office to make a call.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The call didn’t go well—the publisher strongly objected, claiming “there’s no precedent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only after Dong Yuejin mentioned “Dahe Publishing is interested” did the chief editor snap: “If you’re willing to take full responsibility, go ahead and do as you please.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That carried weight—if Dong Yuejin insisted on an exception, unless “Infiltration” became a massive hit, his career prospects would suffer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin wandered the county town in frustration, the more he thought, the more it gnawed at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The alcohol was rising, and it was nearly five in the afternoon—he decided to check into a hotel and think clearly before talking to Li Ye tomorrow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked into the Qingshui County Guesthouse and saw a young man at the front desk, checking in while asking how to get to No. 2 High School and what age the repeat students usually were.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin took notice, leaned over to glance at the man’s introduction letter. Though his nearsightedness blurred the details, the large red stamp clearly bore the words “Publishing House.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Damn, talking about demons and seeing ghosts.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dong Yuejin jolted awake, the alcohol instantly gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He quietly stepped back, slipped out the guesthouse door, and sprinted toward No. 2 High School.\u003C\u002Fp>",1778,"2026-06-20T05:04:59.129Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","7bbb3338cf7d0bc64522cdb85cbc2fc02b03c6f5266673cef3da4495d82340fd","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-43","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-41",884,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthat-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-cover.jpg"]