1980 My literary era

The return trip took a day, and it happened to be morning when the train arrived in Yanjing. Everyone went home and rested for a day before going to work.

After separating from his colleagues, Lin Weimin sent Shi Tiesheng home first. Seeing his son back, Shi's father finally relaxed his nervousness.

I just don’t know what the old man would think if he knew that Lin Weimin used Shi Tiesheng as a suicide squad to run rampant on the basketball court?

The most likely possibility is to put up a sign at the door of No. 26 Yonghegong Street saying "Lin Weimin and dogs are not allowed to enter."

After seeing off Shi Tiesheng, Lin Weimin returned home and had a good rest for the day.

Early the next morning, I rode my motorcycle to work.

Just now, at the entrance of the Chinese Literature Society compound, I was about to say hello to my colleagues who had just arrived, when I saw a familiar figure squatting at the door of the Chinese Literature Society. When I saw Lin Weimin coming, I immediately got up and stopped Lin Weimin's motorcycle.

"Where have you been these days?"

Lin Weimin almost thought that he had lost his memory and married a fierce woman. During this time, he went out to fool around.

He looked at the resentment on Wang Shuo's face and asked in confusion: "What's going on with you?"

Wang Shuo had a complicated expression on his face. Seeing that he looked embarrassed, Lin Weimin knew that something must have happened, and it was not easy to say it in front of everyone.

"Come on, follow me to the office."

When they came to the office, no one was here yet. Lin Weimin poured Wang Shuo a cup of hot tea.

"Okay, let's talk about it, what's going on?"

Wang Shuo looked at Lin Weimin with a complicated look in his eyes again. He waited for a long time before he could hold back a word.

"Has your mouth been opened?"

"Hey? How dare you run away from me and yell at me? Do you believe it or not?"

After knocking off Wang Shuo's arrogance, Lin Weimin drank tea and asked no more questions.

After leaving him alone for a while, Wang Shuo couldn't stand it anymore.

"Xie Jing was caught!"

Lin Weimin was not surprised, "How long was the sentence?"

"Half a year."

Lin Weimin smiled and said: "It's good, just think of it as a way to avoid the limelight."

Wang Shuo was furious, "You are gloating about others' misfortune."

"Be content. If he catches him a month later, it will be ten years from now on. Do you believe it?"

Wang Shuo stopped talking.

This year has been eventful, and a thunderstorm is brewing during this time.

That's why Lin Weimin said that it was a good thing that Xie Jing was caught at this time. He lightly sentenced him to half a year and came out a good man again.

Wang Shuo sat on the chair dejectedly, like a lost dog.

Lin Weimin then asked: "Can't the business continue?"

"Nonsense! I almost folded it inside, and what the hell!"

"What are you going to do next?"

"have no idea."

Wang Shuo looked confused. Even though he usually looked fearless, but growing up in the compound, he was one of the most cowardly people, and he was always quick to talk.

Something happened to Xie Jing, which almost scared him out of his wits. In the past, I always felt that there were connections and connections behind me, and it didn’t matter if something happened.

But this time Xie Jingzhen went in, and he was completely dumbfounded.

The most important thing is that after Xie Jing was caught, he was fined a large sum of money, which was so large that he lost all the profits they had made since speculating.

Wang Shuo didn't hesitate when he took the money, but he couldn't help but regret it afterwards.

He should keep some for himself. Now his life has become a problem.

Now that there is a turmoil outside, he can't do any of the illegal things in his head.

I also quit my job.

After holding it in for several days at home, Wang Shuo thought of what Lin Weimin once said to him.

How amazing!

So he ran to the Chinese Literature Society to find Lin Weimin, but he didn't expect to catch up with him when he went to Yantai to hold a PEN conference.

Wang Shuo waited at the entrance of the Chinese Literature Society for a week.

Lin Weimin looked at Wang Shuo like this and couldn't help but jokingly said: "What's the matter? Master Shuo, are you so depressed now?"

At this moment, Wang Shuo couldn't pretend anymore and said with a sad face: "Stop making fun of me!"

Lin Weimin laughed twice.

At this time, Rong Shihui walked into the office, followed closely by He Qizhi.

Colleagues came in one by one, and it was not convenient to say something.

Lin Weimin picked up a 500-word manuscript on the table and threw it in front of Wang Shuo.

"What's the meaning?"

"Looking at you like this, I guess you won't be able to survive anymore. Follow me and you can at least make a living!"

Lin Weimin's tone sounded like Gao Qiqiang was recruiting his younger brother.

Wang Shuo waved the manuscript paper in his hand and said excitedly, "Who do you think you are?"

Lin Weimin said calmly: "Eight yuan for a thousand words. Think about it, publishing a novella is only a thousand yuan!"

The manuscript waving in the air stopped there. Wang Shuo blushed, and the veins on his forehead popped out, and said: "It's not about money..."

"Mainly...I just love literature."

Next came some unintelligible words, such as "This is what you begged me for", "I don't even look at other magazines", "I write novels without paying royalties", etc., which attracted the sideways glances of other colleagues in the office. .

Lin Weimin frowned and said, "Okay, okay, I've been talking endlessly, when can I hand in the manuscript?"

As soon as he finished his big talk, when he heard that Lin Weimin was serious about it and mentioned "handing in the manuscript", Wang Shuo started talking about it again.

"For the people, you know me. I have very high demands on my creations. The manuscript must be written to my satisfaction..."

"Then half a month."

Lin Weimin didn't give Wang Shuo a chance to continue. He widened his eyes and seemed to want to argue.

"What's wrong? Master Shuo, can you do it?"

Lin Weimin's tone reminded Wang Shuo of the summer afternoon in his first year of junior high school.

Standing in the school public toilet, the water stains from the opposite side had sprayed on his trousers, with a proud look on his face.

And he, Wang Shuo, a man, must not be timid at this time.

Just like that day when I took off my pants, took out a water gun and fired wildly at the other side.

Wang Shuo stood up and shook the manuscript paper in his hand.

"Wait! The manuscript will be due in half a month!"

After that, walk away!

Several colleagues who had just entered the office looked at each other, and everyone seemed to have seen an interesting scene again.

Why do things always develop bizarrely when we arrive at Lin Weimin's place?

"For the people?" Rong Shihui called out.

Lin Weimin looked at him.

"Just now...were you writing a manuscript?"

"Yeah!" Lin Weimin hummed.

He Qizhi couldn't help but ask: "Do you usually compose manuscripts like this?"

"That's not true. This thing... divides people." Lin Weimin explained.

Everyone nodded pretending to understand.

So, why Weimin became deputy editor so quickly because of this skill?

learned!

Lin Weimin didn't know what his colleagues had learned. He only knew that he had gathered another strong general.

Tsk tsk tsk...

No matter how others criticize him, the quality of Wang Shuo's works cannot be criticized.

Some people may not understand Wang Shuo's blasphemy against elite culture, some are opposed to Wang Shuo's unbridled mockery of the traditional spirit, and some are angry that Wang Shuo plays word games and treats literature as a game of life.

But everyone must admit the fact that Wang Shuo's works have influenced an entire generation.

Teacher Lin is deeply pleased that such a writer, who has a unique position in the history of Chinese literature, can embark on the path of literature under his kind words.

Today, Teacher Lin has made outstanding contributions to Chinese literature.

Colleagues came to work one after another, and the office became lively. The topic was naturally inseparable from the just-concluded "Yantai PEN Conference".

Everyone happily discussed the interesting things that happened during the PEN meeting. Naturally, they inevitably made fun of Lin Weimin for writing another inspection, showing no respect for the leader.

After chatting for a long time, Meng Weizai appeared and called everyone to the front building for a meeting.

The massive PEN Conference has ended. For this PEN Conference, "Contemporary" spent a lot of money. The Chinese Literature Society did not contribute any money, but it made a lot of connections.

All efforts are still for the manuscript, and the focus of the discussion at the meeting is naturally the manuscript.

The quality of several manuscripts created during the PEN Conference has been highly recognized by the editor-in-chief Wei Junyi, which is equivalent to confirming the success of the PEN Conference.

For "Contemporary", with this successful case, future PEN meetings will be easier to apply for and operate.

The next issue discussed is the follow-up of the works being conceived and created by the writers participating in the PEN Conference.

All writers were responsible for editing. Wei Junyi asked about the situation one by one. When it was Lin Weimin's turn, he was thinking about the satellite that Cheng Zhongshi and Lu Yao had given him.

When it was his turn to describe the works of Cheng Zhongshi and Lu Yao, Lin Weimin hesitated and said: "This... I can't say for sure!"

Wei Junyi frowned and asked: "Why can't you tell me? When will the manuscript be delivered? There has to be an approximate deadline, right?"

Thinking that the two of them had planned masterpieces of millions of words for themselves, Lin Weimin said: "Chief Editor, actually, I think we can't put too much pressure on the authors. Since everyone has come to participate in the PEN Conference, I will definitely not take it lightly. Everyone must have this idea of ​​being loyal to others when entrusted by others..."

Wei Junyi smelled a hint of uneasiness in Lin Weimin's words.

At this time, Lin Weimin continued: "Chief Editor, you know me. I have always cherished my authors..."

"Pfft!"

Everyone looked around, and Yao Shuzhi and Zhu Changsheng showed apologetic smiles to everyone, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Lin Weimin ignored the two people's interruption, "I think the deadline for submission also varies from person to person. Both Lao Cheng and Lu Yao can play drums without hammering..."

"Okay, okay!" Wei Junyi interrupted him impatiently, frowning and said: "If you can't hand it in at the moment, just say you can't hand it in. Why are you looking for so many subjective reasons? Why do you care so much about the author that you come to this table? Gong has come? Can Lu Yao agree with what you say now that he knows?"

"Pfft!"

"Pfft!"

Everyone's mocking laughter rang out in the conference room, and everyone finally broke through Wei Junyi's serious complaints.

If we want to say who in the Chinese Literature Society can control Lin Weimin, the grandson of Lin Weimin, we have to look at Mrs. Wei!

Everyone looked at Lin Weimin together, and an idea came to their minds at the same time.

How could your eight-centimetre-wide mouth say such shameless words?