Chapter 619 Hidden Deeply
Huang Jianan is the son of Huang Zonghan, a classmate of Lin Weimin at the Institute of Literature. Now he has followed in his father's footsteps and become a writer himself.
Like Lin Weimin, Huang Jianan made his debut very early. He wrote his famous short story "Homesickness" at the age of 19 and won the National Excellence Award for Minority Literature Creation. In the past few years, he worked as an editor of "Short Stories" and is now a resident writer of the Jichun Literary Association.
"Time flies by so fast. I remember when I wrote to Lao Huang, we always talked about your schooling and writing assignments."
Lin Weimin chatted with Huang Jianan for a while and couldn't help but sigh.
"My dad often talks about you, and he especially likes to talk about your time at the Institute of Literature."
Lin Weimin smiled and said, "So many years have passed, and everyone is busy with their own things. We haven't seen each other much. I really miss you all."
Lin Weimin and Huang Jianan are not much different in age, but they are from two generations after all. After talking about the common topic of Huang Zonghan, Huang Jianan didn't know what to say, so Lin Weimin started talking about his creation.
Huang Jianan has been engaged in creative writing for some years. In recent years, he has published works in magazines such as "People's Literature", "Youth Literature", "Yenching Literature", and "Writers". The response was not very great, but the fact that he can publish his works in so many well-known literary journals also shows his creative level.
The two sat together and chatted for more than half an hour. Huang Jianan saw that the time was almost up, so he stood up and prepared to say goodbye.
He came to Yanjing on a business trip this time, and was entrusted by his father to visit Lin Weimin. Now the mission has been completed.
Lin Weimin raised his hand and glanced at his watch. "It's still early. Go do your work first and come to my house for dinner in the evening."
"No, thank you so much, Uncle Lin."
"I'm a landlord, I can't just not treat you to a meal, right?"
"I have booked a train ticket for the afternoon and I have to catch the train."
"Then change your train ticket to tomorrow's. Come to my house for dinner tonight, stay overnight, and leave tomorrow."
"Uncle Lin, this is really inconvenient. I'm here with my colleagues."
"Then call all the colleagues over. I just want to meet the young writers of Jichun."
Huang Jianan declined several times, but Lin Weimin insisted on his own opinion. He had no choice but to agree.
After leaving the Chinese Literature Society, Huang Jianan returned to the guesthouse, where his companion Fang Ming was packing up.
"Are you back? Hurry up and pack your things, and then go to the train station after lunch."
"Let's pack up later. I have to refund the train ticket as something urgent has to happen." Huang Jianan said.
Fang Ming was full of questions. "What happened? Didn't you go to visit the elders? What happened?"
"Nothing happened. It's just that my elder wants to treat us to a meal and asks us to leave tomorrow."
The companion said, "It's just a meal, what's the big deal? We can't miss the train."
"That's what I said, but they were so enthusiastic that I couldn't refuse."
Huang Jianan looked apologetic to his companion, "Fang Ming, I'm sorry."
"That's fine. Then let's change the train ticket and go have dinner tonight."
"You come too."
"Why would I go? I don't even know the person there."
"Go ahead. I'd feel even more embarrassed if you didn't go. My uncle is also engaged in literary work. You don't have to worry about embarrassment. We will definitely have common topics." Huang Jianan advised.
"Well... okay, I'll follow you to have a meal."
The two of them agreed to have lunch first and then go to the train station to change their tickets.
It was still early in the evening, so the two of them went to Wangfujing for a stroll and bought some gifts.
It's never nice to go to someone's house for a meal empty-handed.
Seeing that it was almost evening, Huang Jianan and Fang Ming took the bus and arrived at the gate of the courtyard where they lived.
Huang Jianan knocked on the door knocker. While waiting for the door to open, Fang Ming whispered, "Jianan, you are such a great uncle, living in such a big yard."
"They earn a lot from writing."
"A courtyard like this would cost a lot of money in Yanjing, right?"
"I don't know. But it shouldn't be as expensive as a building, right? House prices are too expensive now."
As the two were talking, the door of the house opened and a middle-aged woman appeared. When she saw the two, she smiled and asked, "Is this Mr. Huang?"
Huang Jianan nodded, thinking that the middle-aged woman was an elder of the Lin family, and greeted politely: "Hello, Auntie, I am Huang Jianan."
"I'm the nanny of Teacher Lin's family. My surname is Sun. Please come in." Sister Sun invited the two into the yard.
After entering the gate, passing the screen wall and entering the hanging flower gate, he reached the second courtyard. Fang Ming looked around the courtyard as he walked, with a bit of envy in his eyes.
"This yard is really magnificent!" Fang Ming whispered to Huang Jianan.
Before he reached the main room, Huang Jianan saw Lin Weimin standing at the door. Fang Ming muttered, "This guy looks familiar!"
"Uncle Lin!" Huang Jianan greeted him and introduced him, "This is Fang Ming, our colleague from the Cultural Association."
"Hello, Comrade Fang Ming."
Lin Weimin smiled and shook hands with Fang Ming. Fang Ming showed an incredible expression on his face as he recognized the person in front of him.
"Are you Mr. Lin Weimin?"
"Why? Didn't Jia Nan tell you? I'm going to treat you guys to dinner tonight."
Fang Ming looked at Huang Jianan, "He didn't say anything, he just said he was an elder."
Lin Weimin looked at Huang Jianan with some appreciation in his eyes. Fang Ming's reaction proved that Huang Jianan had never mentioned anything about himself in front of him.
A down-to-earth person!
"Come into the house."
Lin Weimin let the two of them into the house. Tao Huimin was standing in the living room of the main house. Lin Weimin said, "This is your aunt."
"Hello, Auntie!"
"Hello." Tao Huimin responded with a smile. She was now swollen with a bulging belly and had difficulty moving. She said, "Sit down and have some tea first. We'll eat later."
Lin Weimin poured tea for the two and asked them to sit for a while while chatting casually.
Less than twenty minutes later, Sister Sun brought the dishes to the table.
Today Lin Weimin asked us to entertain guests in the evening, so Sister Sun specially prepared eight dishes, which were extremely sumptuous.
"Come, come, have dinner." Lin Weimin called.
Several people sat down and chatted while eating.
Huang Jianan and Fang Ming were a little reserved when they visited for the first time, but Lin Weimin kept bringing up topics.
We first talked about our relationship with Huang Zonghan, and then talked about creation.
Several of them were engaged in literary creation, and with this common topic, the atmosphere at the table gradually became harmonious.
"The current environment is really not as good as before. We used to sell 40,000 to 50,000 copies of each issue of Short Stories, but after only two years, we can hardly sell even 20,000 copies."
As they chatted, Fang Ming talked about the current living environment of literary publications. He and Huang Jianan were both editors of "Short Stories" before.
"The sales of most publications have been declining in the past two years. This is a major trend that cannot be changed by human power," said Lin Weimin.
Huang Jianan said, "Uncle Lin, I heard that the sales of Contemporary magazine are still pretty good."
Lin Weimin nodded. "The reason why Contemporary Magazine can maintain its sales is mainly due to its existing readers. According to the current trend, it will probably continue to decline in the next few years."
Seeing that even Lin Weimin was so pessimistic, Fang Ming couldn't help but say dejectedly: "No wonder everyone says that literature is on the decline now."
“Actually, that’s not the case. Over the past decade or so, the Chinese people’s demand for literature has been distorted. That’s the result of the backlash from years of cultural repression. We can’t look at it with common sense.
In the past two years, the focus of the Chinese people has gradually shifted to economic development. They are certainly not as concerned about literary works as before, which is normal.
In the past few years, many writers and critics have been immersed in the illusion of a literary heyday and have failed to recognize one fact.
In my opinion, many literary works over the years have merely commented on the political and economic development of Chinese society in the early days of reform and opening up, and are far from the scope of literature. "
Huang Jianan disagreed with this and said, "Uncle Lin, one of the functions of literature is to reflect the development of society."
Lin Weimin said calmly: "You are right, but the problem with many people is that they have not really opened their eyes. They are always obsessed with providing literary annotations for the injustice happening in society, and repeatedly describing various ecosystems in a chaotic social state. This is actually a kind of laziness and dependence in creation. Because many people will not write if they are out of this context. If a writer can only write one thing, is he worthy of being called a writer?"
Lin Weimin's words made Huang Jianan and Fang Ming look thoughtful. Although they didn't want to admit it, what Lin Weimin said did make some sense.
"I have some evidence here," said Lin Weimin.
Huang Jianan and Fang Ming looked at him, and Lin Weimin continued, "We all say that the 1980s was a golden age for Chinese literature, but no one seems to have thought about one thing, that is, during this period, Chinese literature did not produce many important literary works with international influence. Many people in the literary world also know nothing about the position of Chinese literature in the global context. They may be familiar with those foreign classics, but they actually don't understand the modernization process of foreign literature."
After listening to Lin Weimin's words, Huang Jianan fell into deep thought. He used Lin Weimin's words to compare himself and found that he had the same problem.
At this time Fang Ming said: "Teacher Lin, your works are popular overseas, don't they have international influence?"
“My works only sold relatively well, but they are still a long way from being as good as the classics.”
Huang Jianan said, "Uncle Lin, you are too modest. Although I don't know much about contemporary foreign literature, I know that since World War II, there have been very few works with real world influence. If your works were put in the contemporary world, they would be the best in the world literary world."
Lin Weimin laughed and said, "Did you learn this flattery skill from your father?"
Huang Jianan said with a shy expression, "I'm not flattering you, I'm telling you the truth."
After a few jokes, Lin Weimin said, "We've been busy chatting. Come on, have some food."
A few people stopped talking and concentrated on eating, occasionally chatting a few words.
After finishing dinner, Huang Jianan and Fang Ming sat at home for a while before saying goodbye.
Lin Weimin tried to persuade her to stay, "Didn't we agree to stay at home?"
"No need, Uncle Lin, we'll stay at the guesthouse, which is close to the train station. We have to catch a train early tomorrow morning."
Huang Jianan declined Lin Weimin's invitation and prepared to leave.
Lin Weimin went to the side room and took out two bottles of wine. "I bought these two bottles of wine at the Friendship Store. Your father loves to drink, so I gave them to him. Remember to say hello to your family for me."
"Thank you, Uncle Lin."
When they came out of Lin Weimin's house, it was already completely dark outside. Fang Ming helped Huang Jianan get a bottle of wine.
"Jia Nan, I really can't tell. You hid it so well that you are so familiar with Teacher Lin Weimin."
"Uncle Lin and my dad were classmates, but I actually haven't met him very often."
Fang Ming sighed, "I really envy those of you who have a family background in learning."
"What's there to envy? You have to work even if you are different."
The two chatted and disappeared into the night.
(End of this chapter)
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