Reborn in 1977

Chen Fan took two puffs of his cigarette, looking rather listless. "Uncle He, if you ask me, the correspondence center can indeed be handed over.

Now that all the procedures are clear, you just need to follow the steps and enroll students once a year to maintain it well. What difference does it make whether I'm here or not?"

He Qingsheng smacked his lips, looked at him, and said, "It's really not the same."

Before Chen Fan could ask, he leaned forward and continued, "Think about it, the correspondence center can generate two to three hundred thousand in revenue a year. That's a huge piece of meat! It's just that you don't care about it. If it were those cadres in the unit who don't do creative work, who wouldn't be envious?

You created this center single-handedly. You occupy the position of director. Even if they are envious, they can only watch with their eyes wide open. No one dares to snatch it.

But if you quit, believe it or not, several people who are qualified to take over will fight to the death."

After a pause, he handed over a cigarette and said earnestly, "I understand your difficulties, but you also have to understand that our Jiangnan branch has just stabilized. We can't afford to mess up at this time, or how will the higher-ups see us?"

How the higher-ups see them wasn't important. The main thing was that those few people all had backers. If they fought, he would definitely become a target. He would be annoyed to death. Most importantly, no matter who he supported, he would offend the others.

Although the Writers Association was a system in itself within the literary system, and he wasn't afraid of them, trouble was still worse than nothing. Why provoke it if he could avoid it?

When Chen Fan heard him talking about breaking their brains, he understood what he meant.

This matter was indeed difficult to handle, but he couldn't let him occupy the position all the time. He was still thinking about retiring to his hometown.

He switched the cigarette in his mouth, lit it with the butt of the old one, and then extinguished it in the ashtray. He looked at He Qingsheng and asked, "Then when can I get rid of it?"

He Qingsheng chuckled twice, "Next year, next year I will definitely arrange a suitable person to take over, and I guarantee it won't be difficult for you."

As long as he had a little more time, he could see who had contributed the most and who had worked the hardest. Then, he could calculate both merit and hard work together, and whoever was capable would take the position. Then, the higher-up leaders would have nothing to say.

He also changed a cigarette, lit it, exhaled a puff of smoke, and smiled at Chen Fan, "If you ask me, anyway, Xiaobian is doing your work now. You have an extra subsidy every month. I know you don't lack money, but why don't you want what you deserve? Isn't that right?"

Chen Fan shook his head and said seriously, "What's the main thing? Someone as serious and responsible as me, even if I only have a nominal title, will definitely keep the work in mind, ah… This is my work attitude and my principle of being a person… Hey, Uncle He, what's wrong with you?"

He Qingsheng endured his discomfort, gasped, and waved his hand, "No, nothing, I'm just shocked by your 'serious and responsible' attitude."

Chen Fan, "Right? So, both publicly and privately, we should arrange for a suitable person to take over as soon as possible. It's good for everyone."

He Qingsheng nodded mindlessly, "Okay, okay, okay, okay, when the board of directors is elected at the beginning of next year, we will arrange this matter."

Seeing that there was a definite time, Chen Fan didn't say any more. He stood up, picked up the cigarette on the table, took one out and threw it in front of He Qingsheng, "Since there's nothing for me to do, I'll leave."

He Qingsheng was about to wave him away when he suddenly paused, changed his wave to a beckon, "Wait, I just remembered, there is something I really need you to come forward for."

Chen Fan looked back at him, sat back in his chair, "I knew it, how could this unit be without me? Tell me, what is it? I will definitely do what I can."

The implication was, don't mention anything I can't do.

He Qingsheng looked speechless, took a puff of cigarette, and said, "It's about the thing you mentioned last time, the International Writing Program. We have already contacted them.

A bit of a surprise, the founder of this international cultural exchange project is actually a Chinese."

Chen Fan bit his cigarette, "Yeah, Nie Hualing, don't you know?"

He Qingsheng looked at him in surprise, "You knew before?"

Chen Fan shrugged, "I said I saw it in an old magazine, so there must be the names of relevant people. But I only remember her, the other one is her husband, I don't remember his name."

He Qingsheng, "Her husband's name is Paul Engle, he is an American poet. This project was founded by them as a couple.

The main method is to first pull in a sum of sponsorship, and then, based on the amount of funding, invite a certain number of writers from developing countries to study and exchange ideas in the United States, with a frequency of once a year, each time for about three months."

After speaking, he tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his face a little hesitant, "Because it is mainly aimed at developing countries, there are many authors from different countries in each organized exchange meeting…"

Speaking of this, he suddenly stopped, not knowing how to continue, and silently smoked his cigarette.

Chen Fan smacked his lips, looked at him, and smiled softly, "It's just that there are more 'problematic' people, right?"

He Qingsheng raised his head and looked at him, "You know?"

Chen Fan silently recalled an interview with Wang Anyi that he had read before his transmigration, and said, "Poland, East Germany, West Germany, the Philippines, Indonesia, India… There are many developing countries in the world. Although Germany is a developed country, their writers are often invited to participate due to their special circumstances.

I know what your concerns are, these countries all have their own problems, especially writers, who are emotional and easily emotional. You are worried that our people will be affected by them when they go over."

After saying this, Chen Fan took a puff of cigarette, exhaled a long stream of smoke, and looked at He Qingsheng, who was frowning and thinking, and said, "Who doesn't have problems? Don't our writers have problems? Today, everyone seems to be quiet, but who knows what they are thinking in their hearts? Do they really have no grudges about everything that happened in the past?

I think it's a good thing to let them go out and see. The world is big and there are many countries. Who doesn't have a problem?

It's not necessarily a bad thing to go out and see other people's situations and learn more about the outside world.

On the contrary, it's a bad thing to keep it at home, hide the words in your heart, and then intentionally or unintentionally write the dissatisfaction in your heart into words, or wait for the appearance of a fuse, and then vent it hundreds or thousands of times regardless of the facts."

Hearing this, He Qingsheng frowned, staring at him intently, "Do you think such a situation will occur?"

Chen Fan shrugged, "This is not a question of what I think, but the objective law of the development of things. If you don't believe me, wait and see, just a small cut, under the promotion of someone with ulterior motives, is very likely to form a trend of venting."

As he spoke, he took a puff of cigarette and sighed, "So many years of accumulation, how can it be easily written off."

He Qingsheng smacked his lips, remained silent for a good while, then looked at him and said softly, "Don't go blabbing about this outside."

Chen Fan smiled, "Unless you've recorded it, I won't admit to anything."

He then leaned back, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, hands in his pockets, and chuckled, "Even if I did, there's nothing wrong with saying it, who can say anything about me?!"

He Qingsheng pointed at him helplessly, "You young people are always so impetuous. Just don't say things like that in the future."

Chen Fan shrugged, tossed away his cigarette butt, and said, "You brought it up first, so I said it. Since we're on the topic, I'll add one more thing. If we're going to cooperate with the 'International Writing Program,' we need to consider having a firm stance.

Especially the team leader. That person not only needs to be firm in their own stance but also good at enlightening others and guiding them. Only then can we ensure that the same number of people who go will return, and no major incidents will occur."

He Qingsheng took a deep breath, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the table.

After a long while, he finally looked up and said, "Before, I only knew a little bit about it. After hearing you say so much today, I realize how complicated the situation is…"

Chen Fan waved his hand, interrupting him, and smiled at him, "It's not the situation that's complicated, it's the people!"

Looking into Chen Fan's eyes, He Qingsheng had a realization, "So 'people' are the core, and the project is just a formality."

Chen Fan smiled and said, "I think you seem a little hesitant. It's okay, you can discuss it with Elder Ba and Elder Mao later. My opinion is that we will eventually have to go out. Otherwise, the association wouldn't have established the Foreign Affairs Department. The establishment of the Foreign Affairs Department is a strong signal from the literary world.

And as long as there is foreign exchange, there will inevitably be clashes of ideas and cultural shocks. If we don't take the first step because of fear, then we will always be stuck in our ways and unable to connect with the outside world.

When the higher-ups really open the country's doors one day, the impact will be even more intense."

As he spoke, he took out a cigarette, lit it, and held it in his mouth. He stood up and said, "You guys discuss it first. If you need me to step in, just say the word."

Just as he was about to leave, he turned back, "Oh, right, let me state this first, I'm not going abroad."

He Qingsheng was thinking about what he said, and when he heard this, he was stunned for a moment. He looked up at him, "Why? I heard someone say last time that Professor Xu was planning to recommend you to study abroad, but you refused. Why do I get the feeling that you're particularly opposed to going abroad?"

Chen Fan chuckled, "It's not that I'm opposed, it's mainly because I'm afraid of dying."

He raised his hand and made a gesture, "Weapons are rampant in the United States, and due to the lingering effects of McCarthyism in the early 1950s, there are still many white people who attack Asians for no reason.

As the saying goes, a gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall. Even if the probability is very low, I don't want to run out and suffer, after all, I am a gentleman."

With that, he waved his hand, "I'm leaving."

He Qingsheng's face darkened as he watched him leave the room and close the door from the outside. He couldn't help but chuckle, "That kid, not a word of truth comes out of his mouth."

After a pause, he felt around on the table, "Hey, where's my cigarette?"

He opened the drawer, but it wasn't there either. Then he looked up at the door, "Could it have been swiped again?"

Then he sighed deeply and could only pick up the phone and dial an internal line number, "Xiao Xu, ask Lao Tan to come to my place for a bit. Oh, and bring me a pack of cigarettes."

After hanging up the phone, he silently pondered how to communicate this matter with the association.

…

Chen Fan walked downstairs with a light step, got into his car, and drove away. Before long, he entered the university campus.

Today was Saturday, and classes were still being held as usual. Chen Fan drove his car in front of the Chinese Department's teaching building, got out of the car, opened the trunk, picked up two boxes, and walked inside.

Soon he arrived in front of Professor Xu's office. He peeked inside, and as usual, there was only Professor Xu inside. He straightened up and laughed, "Professor, are you preparing for class?"

Professor Xu looked up, closed his lecture notes, and said unhappily, "I asked you to report once a month, how long has it been?"

Chen Fan carried the cardboard boxes in, put them on the ground, pulled out a chair, sat across from Professor Xu, took out his teacup, took a sip of tea, and pretended to be tired as he gasped for breath, "Professor, this time it was really a special situation, don't blame me."

Professor Xu glanced at the two cardboard boxes, then turned to look at him, "Just because of these things?"

Before Chen Fan could speak, he continued, "Isn't it just a computer? Professor Huang from the Computer Science Department managed to get one last time. That was the one you brought back, right? What, is this computer different from the last one?"

Chen Fan chuckled, leaned forward, and said mysteriously, "Professor, not to brag, but this computer really is different."

Professor Xu was slightly stunned, but quickly recovered, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and without looking at him, said softly, "Then tell me, how is it different?"

Chen Fan, "The last computer could only use English, but this computer can use Chinese."

Professor Xu suddenly looked up, his brow furrowed slightly, "Can use Chinese? Are you saying that this computer can type out Chinese?"

Although he studied Sinology, he was no stranger to Chinese typewriters.

Back then, every time a Chinese typewriter was released, wasn't it a sensation in literary circles?

As a man of letters, he also had a patriotic heart and hoped to have a Chinese typewriter that would allow him to easily type on a keyboard and write an article, just like foreigners.

But for so many years, to this day, all Chinese typewriters are extremely cumbersome, and mechanical typewriters are prone to failure, so they have not been widely used.

Apart from professional typists in special units who use Chinese typewriters, which other men of letters use Chinese typewriters to write?

His little disciple shouldn't be unaware of this.

But now, looking at his smug expression, Elder Xu was also suspicious.

When Chen Fan heard his words, he immediately nodded and smiled, "That's right, it can directly type Chinese, and like an English computer, you can modify, delete, and save while typing.

To put it more directly, anything an English document can do, this computer can do."

Hearing this, Elder Xu's spirits lifted, "Really?"

Chen Fan didn't say much, directly unpacked the boxes, and smiled at Elder Xu, "I'll open it and demonstrate it for you, and you'll know."