Chapter 55 New Story: Dumplings Made Just for This Dish of Vinegar
Yao Xiaoyu has written a new article.
This wasn't part of her plan. After all, Yao Xiaoyu had just found a suitable caregiver for Wenrou a couple of days ago, and the surgery was in a few days. What she needed to do was to save up more manuscripts for Miao Wuni, whose work was about to be discontinued, and solidify her income base to deal with the turmoil after Wenrou's surgery.
But if a person could control their emotions at all times, they wouldn't be human, they'd be a god. Yao Xiaoyu didn't consider herself to have reached that level, so it was perfectly reasonable and logical for her to stay up all night, frantically writing tens of thousands of words without any revisions, after a day of continuous stress.
After all, anyone who listened to Tao Xiaoxiao's story in the morning, chatted with Dr. Maria in the afternoon and learned that there were few surgery appointments before Qingming Festival and that the reason for the high demand after the festival was that women who had surgery could only lie in bed and could not pay respects to their ancestors during Qingming Festival; and then encountered the story of her son forcing her to marry off her own mother in order to raise money for a dowry, would find it hard to remain calm.
Yao Xiaoyu naturally thought that the sky was already beginning to lighten. She wrote the last sentence of the article, and the string that had been stretched taut by the creative process in her mind finally snapped. Her adrenaline instantly failed her. Looking at the thick stack of manuscript paper in her hand, Yao Xiaoyu felt completely drained.
"You got up so early today...you didn't sleep at all, did you?!"
As usual, Zhou Chunhua got up and looked at Yao Xiaoyu's pale face and obvious dark circles under her eyes. She asked in disbelief, "This short story, like the brother and sister's story, must be shipped in secrecy!" Yao Xiaoyu smiled weakly and tried hard not to lose consciousness.
"I haven't been able to write much lately, but I finally had some inspiration today..."
Yao Xiaoyu smiled at Zhou Chunhua, gripped the manuscript paper in her hand even tighter, and then, under Zhou Chunhua's nagging that "you can't stay up all night," she put her things away, washed up and ate as usual. Zhou Chunhua originally wanted Yao Xiaoyu to ask for leave, but Yao Xiaoyu firmly refused, and could only tell Tao Erniu to keep a close eye on her granddaughter.
"Did you go thieving last night?"
Tao Erniu joked, but her hand gripped Yao Xiaoyu's arm tightly to prevent her companion from slipping and falling.
"Yes, they're all womanizers, and the young masters are all so handsome."
Yao Xiaoyu was spouting nonsense with a straight face, and the onlookers looked over in shock. They saw the girl's flushed face and her half-closed eyes, and then they suddenly realized that when people are drunk, they can say anything that seems normal.
After slapping her face repeatedly at home to regain her senses, Yao Xiaoyu thought: ...
In short, the two arrived at the hospital entrance smoothly. As soon as Yao Xiaoyu sat down at her workstation, she fell asleep in the standard high school resting posture. Aunt Gu saw how tired she was and didn't disturb her. It wasn't until lunchtime that she patted Yao Xiaoyu's shoulder to wake her up.
Yao Xiaoyu was very hungry, but she was even more sleepy. When she got to the cafeteria, she only managed to eat a few bites before closing her lunchbox and going back to the pharmacy to continue sleeping. It wasn't until almost the end of her shift that she managed to get up.
"What did you do last night? You're so sleepy."
Aunt Gu asked curiously, and Yao Xiaoyu covered her yawning mouth with her hand and answered without blinking:
"The day for ancestor worship is coming soon, and my family has been folding paper ingots with me all night."
According to the old traditions, the paper money for ancestral worship and funerals must be made at home. It is said that the better the family members fold it, the more prosperous they will be in the afterlife. Of course, this rule, like the so-called "nine steamings and nine dryings," is also limited to women.
No wonder.
Aunt Gu was no longer surprised. Although the custom of folding paper ingots had gradually become less popular in Shanghai due to the large number of workers, the children could not persuade the older generation to insist.
"Just bear with it, it'll be fine after Qingming Festival."
Aunt Gu couldn't interfere in other people's affairs, so she could only offer some weak words of comfort. Yao Xiaoyu smiled in agreement and lowered her head to read the newspaper.
After get off work, I lock the door.
Yao Xiaoyu rarely hired a rickshaw, which took her all the way to her doorstep. She casually placed the lunchbox she hadn't finished at noon on the table to give her family a snack. Her stomach had probably already calmed down, and she really had no appetite for the food, which was even blander than lunch. She barely managed to pick up a few bites of radish and pork belly before washing up and going to bed.
"He doesn't have a fever; he's probably just tired from staying up late."
In a daze, a cool hand reached out to her forehead. Yao Xiaoyu recognized Zhou Chunhua's voice and stopped being wary, letting herself drift into an even darker and deeper sleep.
Then I woke up because I was hungry.
Yao Xiaoyu tightened her belt a little more, floated downstairs, and washed up with cold water. It was only just dawn. She didn't plan to take on the cooking task at the farmhouse stove, so she came out and sat down at the table, lit the kerosene lamp, and prepared to look at the article she had written yesterday.
"Yao, Xiao, Yu, you've stayed up all night again!"
Zhou Chunhua called out her granddaughter's full name slowly and deliberately, and Yao Xiaoyu froze.
How could she convince Zhou Chunhua that she really did get up very early this time?
...
In the end, everything was explained clearly, but Yao Xiaoyu's right to stay up late was temporarily revoked this week—Zhou Chunhua planned to put the kerosene lamp in her room.
"I'm too old to be scared like that."
Since even such words had been said, what could Yao Xiaoyu do but accept it helplessly and then take the manuscript to the hospital for revisions.
"So that's why you didn't eat breakfast?"
Tao Erniu watched as Yao Xiaoyu stuffed the mutton dumplings into her mouth one by one, and silently handed her a bowl of water. Yao Xiaoyu swallowed the dumpling stuck in her throat and shook her head.
"have eaten,"
Yao Tianrui is Wenrou's darling, but with Zhou Chunhua around, Wenrou doesn't have any special way to cook for her. However, after the New Year, the whole family's focus shifted back to making money, and the quality of the meals was really not very good.
She had made up her mind that once she could no longer work at the hospital, she would either find another job or pretend to go to work. In any case, she would never put herself in the courtyard again, looking at the sky in the four corners outside the high walls. Having tasted the taste of freedom, she could not bear to live a life of restraint.
"I just want to eat meat."
Seeing Tao Erniu's disbelief, Yao Xiaoyu added an explanation as she picked up a dumpling. Writing was a very demanding activity for her. Back in modern times, she would have a big meal with lots of meat after completing a major plot. However, she was too tired yesterday and didn't replenish her energy in time, so she ate a bit more now.
Tao Erniu didn't say anything, and Yao Xiaoyu didn't speak either. After finishing their dumplings, they went to the hospital and, as usual, went their separate ways to do their own things.
"What is the great writer writing now?"
Aunt Gu watched Yao Xiaoyu making corrections in her notebook and asked jokingly. She used to call Yao Xiaoyu "Little Cultured Person". Ever since she discovered that Yao Xiaoyu could copy things from newspapers, the great writer had taken on this nickname, but she didn't mean it with much mockery. She just thought it was funny. Outside the pharmacy, Aunt Gu would never call her that.
"Write a moving story so that you will be remembered for generations to come."
Yao Xiaoyu said it in a serious tone, which made Aunt Gu laugh. This was what she liked most about Xiao Yao; she wouldn't let her words fall flat.
"Hahaha... Okay, you hurry up and write, I won't bother the great writer anymore."
After Aunt Gu finished speaking, she shut up and quietly started doing her handicrafts. Yao Xiaoyu continued to read the article she had stayed up all night to write. After a long time, she put down the manuscript and had to admit that sometimes a good article is truly a masterpiece, a stroke of genius. The story she wrote with a burning passion in her heart really had nothing that could be changed except for the conversion between simplified and traditional characters.
Yes, it's not that there are no things that need to be changed, but that there are no things that can be changed. Perhaps some parts of the article are not so refined, but they just cannot be touched. Even changing a single word would ruin the flavor of the article.
This article is truly amazing. Yao Xiaoyu thought for a long time before she could come up with a suitable description: other stories are like brick houses, and changing words and phrases is like removing bricks and replacing tiles. As long as the key parts are not touched, there is no major problem. In fact, those with superb skills can even replace them with golden bricks and jade tiles, making the article even more outstanding.
This story is like a hydrogen balloon. Revising it is like pricking it with a needle or slashing it with a knife. Moreover, the words that are added are not the original size. It may seem like only a tiny change has been made, but all the air in the article has been released.
"This is actually an article I was able to write?!"
Yao Xiaoyu exclaimed softly, and decisively decided to use a new pseudonym. Miss Qiu is very nice, but such a special article deserves a separate pseudonym, such as... Pink Furry Rabbit!
The softest nickname should be paired with the most hellish joke!
Yao Xiaoyu was really looking forward to seeing that group of people hurl insults at the article and then name the pink furry rabbit by name.
A few days later.
"Fengming, are you going through submissions again?"
During the meal, his friend looked at Kong Fengming, who hurriedly finished eating and started reading the letter, and felt rather helpless.
“We already have enough manuscripts, and we even have backups ready. If you keep flipping through them, this time it’s destined not to be published in the magazine.”
If this were when "Jin Chai Xu" was first launched and lacked manuscripts, there might have been a chance to fill the gaps with articles by these unknown authors. But now that their magazine has gained some fame, it can't even keep up with the layout of articles by well-known authors, so there's no room for any hidden gems.
Moreover, to defeat established authors, it's not enough for a new author to simply have an article that's been overlooked; the new author needs to completely overwhelm the existing articles. To put it more bluntly, a stroke of genius is needed.
But why would an author of that caliber look down on a bi-monthly magazine that has just struggled to reach the middle ranks of the industry? Just because their magazine's editors are all women?
"If I don't have time, that's fine, but I'll always take a look when I do have time."
As Kong Fengming answered, she unfolded the manuscript in her hand, looked at it for a while, then frowned and put it down. She then opened another envelope, and after reading several envelopes, she couldn't help but put her hands on her head and let out a long sigh, which drew wild laughter from her friends.
Of course, she knew that most of the submissions in these letters were unacceptable, but looking at them was like seeing her former self—she had submitted a letter that was selected for publication and relied on the money from her writing to leave home. She was afraid that there might be people in the same situation as her among the unopened letters, and the thought that the letters she sent with her last hope had never been opened...
"This font is kind of cute."
Kong Fengming enthusiastically showed the letter to his friend. The handwriting was like that of a primary school student learning to use a fountain pen, with a touch of roundness on top of the basic horizontal and vertical strokes. His friend gave a perfunctory reply and felt deep sympathy for his stubborn friend—getting this excited over a slightly interesting handwriting, how bad must these manuscripts be!
"I don't know this person's articles..."
Kong Fengming fell silent before she could finish her sentence. Her friend looked over curiously and found that her eyes were completely glued to the manuscript.
Is there really a hidden gem among the ancient treasures?
His friend didn't dare to disturb him and just waited quietly for Kong Fengming to finish reading. He waited until the lunch break was over, and Kong Fengming looked at him with a strange look.
"Is your mouth blessed?"
Before her friend could even process what Kong Fengming meant, she was stunned by her next sentence.
"The God of Literature has truly descended from the heavens!"
When Kong Fengming spoke, he didn't lower his voice, and his colleagues immediately swarmed around him. Even the editor-in-chief curiously approached, wanting to know what kind of article could be praised so highly by Kong, who was known for his scathing reviews.
"Editor-in-chief, we must publish this article, and we must place it in the most prominent position!"
Kong Fengming struggled to break through the encirclement of her colleagues and carefully handed the manuscript, which she had previously treated with indifference, to the editor-in-chief, who had the power to make decisions, as if it were a precious treasure. Even this usually carefree woman became more cautious when receiving the manuscript.
"I think..."
The woman who took the paper also took the silencer that Kong Fengming handed her. Knowing that Kong Fengming's reading speed was fast, her friend knew that she wouldn't be able to see the article anytime soon, so she asked Kong Fengming what story was recorded on the manuscript.
"What story—"
Kong Fengming fell into deep thought.
"I really love these vinegar-wrapped dumplings!"
Yao Xiaoyu took out the original manuscript again and read it over, mentally praising herself to the skies.
This article tells a satirical story, or rather, a hellish joke. What Yao Xiaoyu really wants readers to see is only the last few sentences of the article.
The protagonist of the story is a "bad woman" in the eyes of people in this era. She is vain, lazy, greedy, materialistic, scheming, and a great actress. She is beautiful but morally corrupt. She flirts with many single men and can easily say a lot of sweet words, but she never makes any promises.
Her wickedness was evident from a young age—she would flatter other people's children by doing things for her, putting on a sweet and considerate act, and using the excuse that educated girls could fetch a higher price to coax her family into sending her to school. In the end, she would run away after getting her diploma, leaving her family, who were waiting for her to get married and help her seven brothers find wives, to face the wrath of the family of the mentally challenged man, while she lived a comfortable life.
As she grew up, she became even worse—she didn't lift a finger to do any housework; she refused to give birth because she was afraid of dying on the delivery bed; but she was very good at things that women shouldn't do, such as reading and writing, drinking and doing business. She always made her daughters study, and even set up schools for girls. She even wanted to become an official, which was simply outrageous!
So she died young, and no one knows who the murderer was. When she died, there was a document on the table, which was her notification letter to become a section chief, and it had already been stamped.
When the news spread, everyone had different feelings, but no matter what, once a person is dead, their fate is sealed. Once the suona horn sounds and the grave is dug, there's no more possibility.
……Really?
The woman opened her eyes again and found herself in the underworld. Knowing what she had done in the mortal world, she was prepared to endure torture, but instead received praise and a welcome from above—the officials and administrators of the underworld were all women!
"What's so strange about that? Most of the girls die."
...
"This story is truly fascinating... but it doesn't seem as good as you described?"
While rubbing his goosebumps, his friend asked Li Fengming in confusion. Li Fengming frowned and thought for a long time before finally giving an explanation that wasn't really an explanation:
"Go take a look, and you'll see this article is different."
My friend became increasingly curious, but didn't dare to compete with the older child for the story, so she tried to distract him by talking about something else:
"This author writes so well, what's their pen name?"
Kong Fengming hadn't had a chance to look at it yet. After all, only articles that survive are eligible for publication under a pen name. She always reads the story first and then checks the name. Now that the manuscript is in the editor's hands, judging by how precious she is to it, she definitely won't be able to go and look at it. Fortunately, some people who don't want to reveal their real names will write their pen names on the envelopes...
"A pink plush rabbit?!"
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Author's note: My new pseudonym has arrived, so there's no possibility of an extra chapter. I've written half a chapter more than usual.
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