Chapter 162 It’s Right That You Haven’t Seen It

Go to work the next day.

The roaring sound of the motorcycle broke the slow pace of work. The moment Lin Weimin's motorcycle appeared at the Chinese Literature Society, it attracted everyone's attention.

It was the rush hour at around seven in the morning, and people were coming and going in the Guowen Society. An exquisite yet masculine Yamaha 125 appeared in the courtyard, and everyone was paying attention to the motorcycle.

When everyone saw clearly that the person riding the motorcycle was Lin Weimin, no one was too surprised.

Lin Weimin is now considered a celebrity in the Guowen Society. He publishes works one after another, and his name is becoming more and more famous in the domestic cultural circle.

I heard that the number of times he received royalties was almost catching up with the frequency of everyone else's salaries.

It's not uncommon to see people like this riding motorcycles.

Those who hate the rich would at most call you a show-off.

Lin Weimin's motorcycle was parked in the bicycle shed, and many young colleagues came around to ask questions, not only from the back building, but also many from the front building.

"Weimin, I've never seen this motorcycle before. What brand is it?"

"Yamaha, the brand of mud bombers."

"How much did it cost?"

This is the issue that everyone is most concerned about, and everyone looked at Lin Weimin eagerly.

"It's not expensive, just over 2,000 yuan..."

hiss~

The people around gasped. More than two thousand yuan was enough for everyone to go without food and drink for several years. Everyone exclaimed in amazement.

Lin Weimin swallowed the three words "foreign exchange coupons" and decided not to provoke everyone.

The people surrounding Lin Weimin were mostly young people from the community. How many of them didn't like motorcycles? They watched for a long time, and only dispersed when it was almost time to go to work.

Lin Weimin entered the back building and met Meng Weizai.

"You bought a motorcycle?"

Lin Weimin said: "Ah, it's more convenient to ride a motorcycle."

"Shaobao, be careful when you go out."

He may be harsh in words, but behind his words he actually cares about others.

"Got it. Thank you, leader."

Today, the unit's bicycle shed became the focus of everyone's attention. From time to time, young people would come to Lin Weimin's Yamaha to take a look.

Looking at this motorcycle full of mechanical beauty, many young people's hearts are filled with excitement, and at the same time an impulse is also sprouting.

Look how much money one can make by writing books. Lin Weimin bought a courtyard house and rode a motorcycle in his early twenties. How are we worse than him?

Lin Weimin bought a motorcycle, and a side effect was that the proportion of part-time writers among Guowen Press employees increased significantly.

After get off work in the afternoon, Lin Weimin rode his motorcycle to the slum at No. 26 Lama Temple Street.

"Tie Sheng! Tie Sheng!" Lin Weimin shouted loudly while standing at the gate of the yard.

Shi Tiesheng came out of the house slowly and pushed his wheelchair for a long time before he saw Lin Weimin and the motorcycle beside him.

Shi Tiesheng asked in surprise: "Weimin, did you buy a motorcycle?"

"Just bought it!" Lin Weimin patted the back seat of the motorcycle, "How about taking you for a ride?"

There was a light in Shi Tiesheng's eyes. Although he was physically disabled, he was a young man in his twenties or thirties after all. He was naturally excited to see the motorcycle.

At this time, Shi's father walked out of the door, and his face looked a little worried when he heard Lin Weimin's proposal.

"Uncle, don't worry. I've prepared everything for Tiesheng..."

Lin Weimin took out the leather jacket and leather pants he had prepared in advance, which he bought on his way to Wangfujing that day.

It's winter now, and Shi Tiesheng's legs have poor blood circulation, so he's afraid of the cold.

"Come on, put it on quickly, and I'll take you for a ride!"

Shi Lan was the first to come up to help, and Shi Tiesheng happily let his sister and Lin Weimin torment him.

When Lin Weimin and Shi Lan were dressing Shi Tiesheng, many neighbors in the yard who heard the noise ran out to watch the fun.

After a long time, Lin Weimin and Shi Lan dressed Shi Tiesheng neatly. Lin Weimin first carried him into the car, then rode on the motorcycle and tied the two together with a belt.

"Tiesheng, you have to hold me tight."

Shi Tiesheng said excitedly: "My legs are disabled, not my hands."

Hearing the impatience in his voice, Lin Weimin stepped on the accelerator, "Boom!"

The roar of the motorcycle sounded, and the children who had been watching in the yard shouted excitedly. Not only the children, but also many adults stood at the door to watch the novelty.

They had seen motorcycles on the street, but this was the first time they had seen one in a yard.

"Hold on tight!"

Lin Weimin shouted, and the motorcycle sped out like an arrow.

The cold wind blew past his ears, icy and biting, but Shi Tiesheng's heart was hot.

He has forgotten how many years he has been disabled. His legs cannot move and he is like a rotten, dead tree, rooted in a wheelchair every day.

After all these years, although he always appeared to be broad-minded, open-minded, and able to understand people's hearts, he always felt a little unwilling.

Riding on the speeding motorcycle, he felt as if his heart was like a dry branch watered by sweet rain, and it suddenly came alive. It was no longer in that calm state. It became warm and beat strongly, like a majestic lion.

"Tiesheng, how do you feel?" In the cold wind, Lin Weimin's voice was carried to Shi Tiesheng's ears by the wind.

He leaned close to Lin Weimin's ear and said loudly, "Very good!"

"Hahaha!"

Lin Weimin laughed heartily, and Shi Tiesheng was also infected when he heard his laughter.

The streets of Yanjing were filled with the laughter of two young people.

Ten minutes later, the sound of a motorcycle was heard again at the gate of the compound.

Shi's father and Shi Lan, who were waiting at the gate, hurried to pick up Shi Tiesheng. Lin Weimin untied the belt, carried Shi Tiesheng to the wheelchair, touched his legs, and said with a smile: "It's still warm!"

Shi Tiesheng was in a good mood, "Your leather pants are still useful."

"If it works, I'll give it to you!"

Lin Weimin threw the leather jacket and leather pants to Shi Lan and said, "This will be the battle suit I will wear when I take you for a ride from now on."

Only now did Shi Tiesheng understand the real purpose of Lin Weimin taking him for a ride. A warm feeling surged in his heart and his eyes were hot.

"For the people..."

Lin Weimin pretended to turn around and said to Shi Lan casually, "Please keep it for your brother. Don't break it."

Shi Lan was delighted when she saw the exquisite leather jacket and hugged it tightly in her arms. "Don't worry, Brother Lin. I will definitely keep it safe for my brother."

Lin Weimin pushed Shi Tiesheng's wheelchair and shouted, "Go, go, hurry up. It's too cold. I'm freezing. Ask my uncle to make dumplings for me tonight."

Father Shi smiled happily, "Okay, let's make dumplings for dinner."

A few days later, the New Year's Day holiday ended.

The official release of the first issue of "Contemporary" this year gave the authors a surprise. In the foreword of this issue, Qin Chaoyang promised the writers in the name of the editor-in-chief that in the new year, "Contemporary" would return the manuscripts to the writers after their works were published.

"Contemporary" has a huge number of readers all over the country. The number of authors is definitely not as large as the number of readers, but the impact they bring to "Contemporary" is the same.

As a publication, authors and readers are the two ends of a scale. If either side is missing, the scale will be unbalanced.

As soon as the news came out, both authors who were planning to contribute to "Contemporary" and authors who had contributed to "Contemporary" were excited.

This initiative by the editorial department is not only a commitment, but also reflects their care and concern for the majority of writers.

This series of operations can be said to have greatly won the favor of the editorial department of Contemporary Magazine, and the difficulty of compiling manuscripts will be greatly reduced in the future.

But what comes with it is an increase in workload.

"Weimin, did you see the short story I left on the table yesterday?"

"No!"

"Didn't you still watch it?" Yao Shuzhi grabbed Lin Weimin and wouldn't let go.

"I put it back for you after I finished reading it!"

"Then why is it gone?"

"How would I know? You should look for it carefully."

Similar conversations have been happening frequently within the editorial department these days.

Yao Shuzhi anxiously searched for the manuscript for a long time and finally found it. Then she put the blame on Lin Weimin.

"It's all your fault for coming up with this bad idea. I'm so stressed out now, I'm afraid some of the manuscripts might get lost or misplaced!"

Lin Weimin responded, "You can only blame yourself for being careless. Why didn't I lose the manuscript? Why didn't Teacher Rong lose the manuscript? It was you who lost it!"

Yao Shuzhi glared at Lin Weimin fiercely.

While the two were arguing, someone knocked on the office door.

Lin Weimin went to open the door, and saw a very tall young man standing outside, almost reaching the door frame.

It was such a cold day, and he was wearing a sweater with a coat on the outside, which made people feel chilly all over.

"Hello, I'm looking for Teacher Lin Weimin!" said the young man.

Lin Weimin smiled and said, "I am Lin Weimin."

The young man looked a little surprised, and then said, "Hello, Teacher Lin, I'm Ma Yuan."

A young face full of confidence.

Lin Weimin pretended to recall the past for a long time before he said, "Oh, Ma Yuan, I remember him. Please come in."

Ma Yuan's confidence froze for a moment, and he walked into the office silently. He looked around inside first.

Seeing that the editors were all working with their heads down and the office was in silence, he felt a little uncomfortable.

Lin Weimin poured him a cup of tea and said, "I remember your manuscript was not accepted. What do you want to do in the editorial office?"

Ma Yuan's breathing became disordered again. He had been preparing well at the door, but he almost broke his concentration before he even started talking.

"I'm here to have a face-to-face discussion with you, Teacher Lin." Ma Yuan said straight to the point.

"I remember that you are a student of the Department of Literature at Liaodong University. You haven't had your holiday yet, right?" Lin Weimin suddenly asked.

Ma Yuan was caught off guard again. "It's almost vacation time. I haven't had anything to do recently. I came to Yanjing right after I finished my exams."

"Just to see me? It's vacation time, why don't you want to go home and see your family?"

"See you first before I go home."

"Oh." Lin Weimin picked up the teacup and said, "Have a sip of tea."

Ma Yuan hesitated for a moment, lowered his head and took a sip of tea, the rhythm of the conversation was completely led by Lin Weimin.

He decided to regain some momentum, and he said with absolute certainty and irrefutability: "The greatest writer in the world is Hawthorne!"

Lin Weimin put down his teacup and looked at Ma Yuan, "That makes sense!"

Um?

Ma Yuan was stunned. What do you mean?

I said Hawthorne is the greatest writer in the world?

Shouldn't you make a few arguments? There is no first in literature and no second in martial arts, brother!

Seeing Ma Yuan's confused expression, Lin Weimin felt secretly happy. That's right. Is the young man's head buzzing?

"By the way, I remember you said in your letter that you have read more than 2,000 novels. Have you read The Jumping Frog?"

Ma Yuan was stunned again and searched his memory but had no recollection.

"Is that so?" Lin Weimin seemed to have some regrets in his tone, and asked again: "What about Dune?"

Ma Yuan's brain started working quickly again. After thinking for a long time, he realized dejectedly that he still hadn't seen it.

Lin Weimin seemed to want to ask about another work, but he seemed reluctant. Finally, he sighed and said, "Your reading range is a bit narrow!"

Ma Yuan was suddenly overwhelmed with shame and wished he could find a hole in the ground to crawl into.

He had indeed read two thousand novels, but he had never heard of the two works mentioned by Lin Weimin. Are they very famous?

Ma Yuan was too embarrassed to ask, fearing that if he did, the other person would really introduce him to someone with a very important background, and he would be really embarrassed.

Lin Weimin observed the changes in Ma Yuan's expression and felt very satisfied.

You're right you haven't seen it.

The two works he asked about were, one was a less famous work by Edgar Allan Poe, the originator of mystery novels, and the other was a science fiction novel that was looked down upon in China. Given the temperament of these literary young people, it would be strange that Ma Yuan had ever read it.

(End of this chapter)