1980 My literary era

"Go? Where to go?" Lu Yao wondered.

"Where else can we go? Yanjing!" Lin Weimin said angrily.

Lu Yao had an expression on his face that he didn't know what to say, "I haven't finished revising the manuscript yet!"

"What a change! How about going to Yanjing to change things differently? Why don't we, a bunch of editors in the editorial department, do it behind closed doors here?"

Lu Yao seemed to be used to Lin Weimin's bad temper, and was not angry at all. He was a little happy at the thought of going to Yanjing.

"I miss the pastries in Yanjing a little bit. The conditions in Ganquan County are so bad!"

Lin Weimin looked at Lu Yao speechlessly. Apart from writing and enjoying life, this guy really didn't care about life and death!

Lu Yao is a very contradictory complex. He can obviously be frugal in many aspects of life, but he can also be extravagant in some aspects.

For example, he likes to smoke, and he has to smoke well, two or three packs of cigarettes a day. A month's salary of an ordinary worker is not enough to afford his cigarettes.

Lin Weimin glanced at the messy manuscripts piled on the table and said: "This time it is Lao Qin Tongrong who asked you to go to Beijing to revise the manuscript. You are his favorite author, don't let down his kindness."

Qin Chaoyang was kind to Lu Yao. When he heard his name, Lu Yao's expression became serious, "Okay, I'll take care of it."

While Lu Yao was packing up, Lin Weimin leaned against the wall and looked at his manuscript. As Lu Yao said, the first draft of "The Movement of Life" was nearly completed, and it was the right time to go to Yanjing to revise the manuscript.

Before coming, Lin Weimin was a little worried about whether his appearance had changed the trajectory of history when he saw in the letter that Lu Yao named the novel he was writing "The Movement of Life".

After reading the manuscript, he was relieved. The story was still the same, but the name was wrong.

"This manuscript..."

Lu Yao, who was packing his things, raised his head and asked, "What's wrong?"

"What is it called "The Movement of Life"? It has no momentum at all."

"How do you call it powerful?" Lu Yao asked unconvinced.

"Change the name." Lin Weimin touched his chin, "I think it should be "Life"!"

"Life?" Lu Yao read this name, feeling that it was really more powerful than his own name.

"Okay, I'll listen to you and call it "Life"."

Lin Weimin felt happy.

When Lu Yao packed up his things, he urged: "Okay, let's go."

"No, there's something else."

"What's up?"

"I haven't finished my preparations yet." Lu Yao said seriously.

Lin Weimin frowned, you're almost done with the manuscript, are you telling me that you haven't finished the preparation yet?

Lin Weimin resisted the urge to give this guy a kick, and then the two of them ran to the Baiyun Mountain Temple in Yulin.

Standing in front of the majestic Mahavira, Lin Weimin's head was filled with black lines.

"I traveled hundreds of miles. This is what you call preparations."

Lu Yao said guiltily: "You don't understand!"

I don’t understand you, you hammer!

Lin Weimin was puzzled, it had only been a few years, how could these ghosts and snakes appear so quickly?

Forget it, just bear with it for now.

Before their works are published, writers are like women who are ten months pregnant, with uncertain temperaments.

After Lu Yao bowed three times and kowtowed nine times, he knelt on the ground and shook the lottery tube devoutly. A stick fell to the ground with a clatter, and he wrote the four words "He Ming Jiu Xiao".

Before the old monk could speak eloquently, Lin Weimin said, "That's it, sign in and leave quickly!"

His patience has been worn out by Lu Yao, and he has decided in his heart that after arriving in Yanjing, he will lose if he lets this thief go out even once.

Lin Weimin paid for Lu Yao's train ticket back to Yanjing, and his last bit of money had been squandered on the way to Yulin.

After another two days, Lin Weimin finally brought Lu Yao back to the Chinese Literature Society.

Lin Weimin didn't give him any chance to breathe, and directly took him to the third floor of the guest house in the back building and locked him in a small dark room.

And he threatened the writers in other dormitories fiercely: "Whoever dares to come to Lu Yao for fun will no longer have to think about publishing the manuscript in the future!"

Everyone was as silent as a cicada.

At that moment, Lin Weimin was the biggest bully in the Chinese Literature Society, and Mrs. Wei had to keep herself humble in front of him.

After a week of hard work, Lin Weimin returned to the editorial office in a dusty state and ran to Tan Chaoyang's office to communicate with him.

After hearing what he had experienced along the way, Tan Chaoyang was angry and laughed at the same time. He was angry at Lu Yao's nonsense, and he was laughing at Lin Weimin's tricks against Lu Yao.

"Okay, as long as he can revise the manuscript here with peace of mind and less trouble, I'll be satisfied!"

After finishing speaking, Qin Chaoyang comforted him: "Wei Min, your time as an editor is still short. Just think of it as gaining more experience this time."

Looking at Tan Chaoyang's expression and tone, Lin Weimin felt the experience and bitterness behind the old man's expression, and felt inexplicably comforted.

I really want to hear an old comrade share his experience!

After a whole week of traveling from Yanjing to Shaanxi, Lin Weimin returned to his home in Shichahai and had a good sleep. After waking up, he took a shower and finally regained his energy.

When I returned to the Chinese Literature Society again, I was inevitably teased by my colleagues.

In the past few days, his deeds of going to Shaanxi to escort Lu Yao to Beijing have been made into jokes and widely circulated in the Chinese Literature Society.

Lin Weimin couldn't help but sigh, why do these people who do literary work have mouths like that old woman's waistband?

He had only told Comrade Lao Qin about this matter, and he knew who it was from without even thinking about it.

Rong Shihui patted Lin Weimin on the shoulder, "You're in our line of work, you just get used to it."

After hearing this tone, people who didn't know it would think they were doing something illegal and disorderly.

Going to other places to meet with writers like Lin Weimin is an experience that every editor in the agency has. As Rong Shihui said, editing is a year-round job of compiling manuscripts, requesting manuscripts, and urging manuscripts. It is not unusual to encounter anything.

After canceling his leave, Lin Weimin worked for two more days. On the weekend, he went to Yenching University to find Mark Mengwan.

Since "Knives Out" was successfully published in the "Ellery Quinn Mystery Magazine" in the United States last year, the two have only met twice. One time was before the winter vacation of Yan University, when Mark dreamed of returning to the United States to visit relatives. The other time was after school started in March, I brought a group of international student friends to visit Lin Weimin.

We haven't seen each other for a long time, but a group of people were particularly cordial when they met.

During the communication, Lin Weimin could clearly feel that the Chinese of these foreigners had improved a lot. Most of them, except for a slight accent, were able to communicate fluently.

This is not because they are talented, but because they are in an environment where Chinese is spoken every day, and they cannot learn fast even if they want. How else can we say that the environment is the teacher of language learning?

Xiao Hei Yoko took out the April issue of "People's Literature" and said to Lin Weimin with stars in his eyes: "Mr. Lin, your writing of "Farewell My Concubine" is simply wonderful. It is a complete novel in the sense of the word. masterpiece!"