Chapter 207 The Headrest
Cheng Zhongshi smoked a cigarette, exhaled a puff of secondhand smoke, and pondered for a long time before saying, "I have thought about it! Of course I haven't thought about it. But the road must be taken step by step, and the meal must be eaten bite by bite. I know my current level, and I am still not capable of writing a long novel."
Lin Weimin said: "Writing a novella is actually a training for you. I think after two more articles, you will be almost ready."
Cheng Zhongshi smiled with some anticipation.
Lin Weimin stood up, looked outside, and sighed, "This land of Guanzhong has been weathered by wind and rain for thousands of years, and there are so many things to write about. If you want to write a long novel in the future, this is the best material."
Cheng Zhongshi's eyes lit up, and he also stood up, "Yes, you really think the same as me."
He walked to the door of the ancestral house. Outside the door was the vast Guanzhong land. Cheng Zhongshi stared at it for a long time, then turned to look at Lin Weimin. There was a hint of ambition in his eyes.
"Weimin, after hearing what you said, I feel more and more itchy in my heart! An idea suddenly popped up in my mind just now.
When I die, I need something to rest my head on!"
The more Cheng Zhongshi spoke, the brighter his eyes became, and in the end, his tone became low.
"I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish I could make myself a brick to support my head!"
The "brick that can support the head" naturally does not refer to a pillow, but a work that can allow Cheng Zhongshi to close his eyes. It must be a novel that can stand on its own.
Lin Weimin laughed and thought to himself, that's right, why write a short story? It's a waste of your talent with your cultural level.
"Brother, you are in your prime. Decades of hard work are enough for you to write a masterpiece that will be passed down through the ages." Lin Weimin complimented.
Only then did Cheng Zhongshi come back to his senses from his ambitious imagination, and a hint of embarrassment appeared on his face.
"I believed it myself."
Lin Weimin shook his head and said, "This is not bragging, it should be called ambition. I think this ambition is very good, brother, I really look forward to the day when you write a work that can 'support your head'!"
He smiled at Cheng Zhongshi again and said, "When the time comes, you must publish it in our Contemporary Magazine!"
Encouraged by him, Cheng Zhongshi finally faced his inner thoughts and said, "Okay, if I really write it, I will definitely publish it in Contemporary Magazine."
After saying this, the two looked at each other and smiled.
As they chatted, it was already noon and Cheng Zhongshi insisted on making a bowl of noodles for Lin Weimin.
"The conditions at home are simple, please don't despise me."
After a simple lunch, we talked about the manuscript again.
Cheng Zhongshi took out two novels, "Kang Family Courtyard" and "Early Summer", one of which needed to be revised and the other one was still one-third of the way to go. Cheng Zhongshi was not a fast boy like Mo Yan, and he certainly could not finish it in a day or two.
"Then wait until you finish writing and mail it to me. Don't mail it too late. Is late December okay?"
Cheng Zhongshi thought about it carefully before agreeing with Lin Weimin, "No problem."
"It's settled then."
After finishing the business, Lin Weimin stood up to say goodbye. Cheng Zhongshi stood up to see him off and insisted on taking him to the bus stop where he could take the bus into the city.
As the two walked in the village, they always felt some attention being paid to them from time to time.
Cheng Zhongshi is a celebrity in the village and a great writer. Guests occasionally come to his home. In the eyes of the villagers of Xijiang Village, these are all great cultural figures.
Lin Weimin has a handsome appearance and is well-mannered. You can tell at first glance that he is an educated man.
There were children following behind the two of them, looking at them curiously, and laughing and playing from time to time.
Lin Weimin and Cheng Zhongshi chatted along the way and didn't take it seriously.
When he was about to leave the village, he met an old man. The old man was tall and his temperament looked a little different from the other old people in the village. Lin Weimin observed him for a few seconds and found that he always kept his back straight as he walked through the village.
Seeing Lin Weimin's eyes wandering around the old man who had already walked away, Cheng Zhongshi introduced him, "He is the patriarch of our clan."
Lin Weimin whispered, "He seems to be a man with a story."
Cheng Zhongshi laughed, "Who doesn't have a story?"
"Some people's stories are like a page of straw, while others' stories are like a thick epic."
After Lin Weimin said this meaningfully, he walked in front, while Cheng Zhongshi fell behind, chewing on his words over and over in his mouth.
He couldn't help but look back at the receding figure of the patriarch, and a flash of inspiration seemed to come into his mind.
Lin Weimin got on the bus back to Xi'an and waved to Cheng Zhongshi who was still standing next to the bus.
It was already evening when we returned to XA City.
Lin Weimin did not rush to the train station, but first found a guesthouse to stay in. The next morning, he called the Writers Association where Lu Yao currently worked, and learned that Lu Yao had recently gone to the rural areas of northern Shaanxi to collect folk songs in order to write the film script of "Life", and that director Wu Tianming also went with him.
In those days, neither communication nor transportation was well developed. Once people went out, it was extremely difficult to find their way back home.
It seems that Teacher Lin’s manuscript collection work will come to an end here.
Far away in northern Shaanxi, Lu Yao and Wu Tianming were squatting in a corner of a market observing the living conditions of the farmers.
He shuddered for no apparent reason and his body swayed.
Wu Tianming noticed his abnormality and asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's okay, maybe I'm hungry."
Wu Tianming said: "Who told you not to eat breakfast?"
Lu Yao did not answer Wu Tianming's question. Lin Weimin's face suddenly appeared in his mind, and he felt relieved.
Thanks to the job of adapting the movie script of "Life", otherwise I would definitely receive letters or even phone calls from Wei Min urging me to submit my manuscripts.
After spending more than a day on the train, Lin Weimin returned to Yanjing again.
I went out to collect manuscripts twice in a row, which took about half a month in total.
The manuscripts submitted by Lin Weimin alone include two novellas by Yu Hua, "A Long Journey at the Age of Eighteen" and "At Noon when the Northwest Wind Howls", a short story "Folk Music" and a novella "Transparent Carrot" by Mo Yan, two novellas by Chen Zhongshi, "The Kang Family Courtyard" and "Early Summer", and He Yunlu's novel "New Star". The space of the January issue of "Contemporary" has already exceeded the limit, and the distribution of manuscript types is also very uneven.
Qin Chaoyang suddenly felt a headache when looking at the manuscript information in the January issue. He was happy when compiling the manuscripts, but suffered when typesetting.
Lin Weimin said in a relaxed tone, "Anyway, I have given the manuscript to your team. The rest is none of my business."
He clapped his hands and said to Qin Chaoyang, "Does the leave you promised me still count?"
Qin Chaoyang glanced at him and said nothing.
"Then I'll take this week off and take two more days of personal leave."
"Why do you take so many days off?"
"I have something to do."
Qin Chaoyang was suspicious, "What can you do?"
Lin Weimin said dissatisfiedly: "What are you talking about? Can't I have any problems? I go to work seriously and work diligently every day. Isn't it worth taking a few days off?"
"Okay, stop saying weird things."
Qin Chaoyang was so annoyed by his nagging that he kicked him out of the office.
Lin Weimin whistled and walked briskly back to the office.
"Hey, what good news is this for Weimin?" Liu Yin joked.
Lin Weimin couldn't help laughing, "Nothing, just a few days off."
Zhu Changsheng said, "Isn't it time to take a break for two days? We have been running around for half a month, right?"
"Of course not." Lin Weimin packed his bag and waved to everyone, "I won't be working with you these few days. Good morning, good afternoon, and good night!"
Everyone was amused by his weird behavior and words, but little did they know that what Lin Weimin said was a classic line.
What a pity, no one understands, I am as lonely as the snow.
Lin Weimin is in a good mood and looks handsome from behind.
He got on the motorcycle, just as he was about to step on the accelerator.
"For the people! Wait a minute!"
Lin Weimin looked in the direction of the voice and saw a window on the second floor of the back building was open, and Qin Chaoyang was sticking his head out and calling him.
Old comrade, you are not afraid of catching a cold even in this cold weather.
"What's the matter, leader?" Lin Weimin replied.
"There's a call for you."
Nowadays, the urgency of things can be roughly divided by the means of communication, namely writing letters, telegrams, and telephone calls.
When a phone call comes in, it's usually about something relatively important.
Lin Weimin propped up the motorcycle frame and went back upstairs. "Who's calling?"
"He said it was your classmate's family member. He should be able to call back later."
After waiting for a few minutes, the phone rang again. Lin Weimin picked up the phone, but his expression became serious after the person on the other end said a few words.
"When did it happen?"
"How long will it take to get to Yanjing?"
"Okay, I'll pick you up then."
…
The call was very short, less than two minutes.
Lin Weimin put down the phone, and the relaxed smile on his face was no longer there.
"What happened?" Qin Chaoyang asked with concern.
Lin Weimin sighed softly, "One of my classmates in the Institute of Literature may have a terminal illness and needs to come to Yanjing for a checkup."
Qin Chaoyang nodded in understanding, "It's a matter of life and death, I'll help if I can."
Lin Weimin nodded, "Of course."
"I'll ask Lao Meng for you. I remember that Lao Meng's daughter-in-law works at Union Hospital and is a director."
"I'll go with you."
The two came to Meng Weizai's office. Meng Weizai heard about the situation and said, "I'll tell her when we get home tonight. You can go find her directly when she arrives. Weimin met her last time. Do you know her?"
Lin Weimin nodded, "Thank you, Director."
Meng Weizai said: "When encountering such a thing, who can not help?"
After coming out of the Chinese Literature Society, Lin Weimin felt a little heavy-hearted. He had originally planned to go to Zhijiang to meet his girlfriend during these few days, but now that was not possible.
Lin Weimin found Qu Xiaowei's workplace and said, "Old Guo may have liver cancer."
Qu Xiaowei was stunned for a moment, then realized who Lin Weimin was talking about.
"Guo Yudao?"
"Um."
Qu Xiaowei was stunned. "He's only in his forties, right?"
Lin Weimin smiled bitterly, "Yeah, who would have thought."
Qu Xiaowei recalled, "Don't tell me, it seems that when he was studying in the institute, his face was always bad."
"I even advised him to get checked out."
When the two of them reached this point, they looked at each other in silence.
Knowing that Guo Yudao's family was going to bring him to Yanjing for a checkup, Qu Xiaowei said, "I'll go with you to pick him up."
"Don't worry. Lao Guo's train tomorrow will take two days to get there."
"Okay, I'll come find you then. Have you found a hospital?"
"Our director's daughter-in-law works at Union Medical College..."
Qu Xiaowei said easily: "That's settled."
Whether in the future or now, Union Hospital is one of the best hospitals in the country. Lin Weimin was able to arrange for Guo Yudao to stay here, which was a great help.
What kind of family is it? If a computer breaks down, they will replace it with a new one. My part is broken, and I have to wait for a long time to replace it. The previous thin and light notebook was also like this. It broke down with a slight touch. It cost more than a thousand to repair. I used it for three years, so I thought about replacing it. In the end, this one has only been used for a year. I can't bear to replace it. I'll repair it if it can be repaired.
(End of this chapter)
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