Jiangcheng Writers Association.
The aroma of tea wafted from the purple clay teapot in the chairman's office.
Wang Shouyi leaned back in his armchair, a long-lost, relaxed smile on his face.
He was holding a copy of "New Tide" in his hands.
He had read "The Miracles of the Namiya General Store" three times already.
With each reading, my admiration deepens.
"OK!"
"Well written!"
He couldn't help but sigh to Vice Chairman Gu Songran, who was sitting opposite him.
"Old Gu, look at this skill, this concept, this idea!"
"This is the kind of literature our time needs!"
Gu Songran nodded in agreement repeatedly:
"Yes, Chairman, this article is receiving a very good response right now."
I heard that the editorial department of *New Tide* magazine has been bombarded with calls, all from people asking about this insightful person.
"That's for sure!"
Wang Shouyi slammed his hand on the table, his face flushed.
"Readers can tell the difference between truly good things!"
Like spring rain, it nourishes silently and brings hope and strength to people!
This is the social responsibility that literary works should bear!
He became more and more agitated as he spoke, and stood up and paced around the office.
"Look at the internet now, the atmosphere is terrible!"
Some young people are always restless and impatient.
They're just thinking about how to grab attention and create something sensational!
They thought that the darker they portrayed the world, the more profound it would be!
That's putting the cart before the horse!
As he spoke, his eyes sharpened.
It was obvious that something unpleasant had come to mind.
Just then.
There was a knock on the office door.
A young staff member walked in, holding a newly published copy of "Jiangcheng Literature and Art".
"Chairman, Vice Chairman Gu, the latest issue of Jiangcheng Literature and Art has arrived."
"By the way, Chairman Wang, this... you might need to take a look."
The clerk flipped directly to the end of Jiangcheng Literature and Art.
Wang Shouyi looked over in that direction.
His movements suddenly stopped.
A bold, dark editor's note immediately caught his eye.
Why do we need literature?
Perhaps it's to glimpse a touch of poetry in the mundane. Perhaps it's to salvage forgotten memories from the long river of history.
But today, I want to say that we also need a kind of literature, one that, like a sharp scalpel, dares to dissect those truths we take for granted, even those we hold as gospel.
It doesn't provide answers, it only raises questions. It doesn't offer comfort, it only incites pain.
Because pain is the beginning of thought.
[Admittedly, the following work, titled "Fireflies," has a dark worldview and a cruel ending. It may even offend some readers. But we have still chosen to publish it.]
Because we firmly believe that a healthy literary world should accommodate different voices. A mature reader should also have the courage to confront darkness.
While everyone is praising the light, we should at least allow a tiny firefly to question the sun's whereabouts.
Below the editor's note were those words he never wanted to see again in his life.
Fireflies
Author: Lin Que
Instructor: Shen Qingqiu
Recommended by: Li Yuanchao
Wang Shouyi's breathing suddenly became heavy.
He took a deep breath and grabbed the phone from the table.
I dialed the number of Chen Liangsheng, the editor-in-chief of Jiangcheng Literature and Art.
When the call connected, Wang Shouyi's voice was surprisingly calm.
But beneath that calm lies a chilling coldness:
"Editor-in-Chief Chen, the latest issue of Jiangcheng Literature and Art."
Did you personally approve the article on the last page?
Only after the other party confirmed did the icy layer in his voice shatter instantly:
"Chen Liangsheng! What do you mean?!"
Chen Liangsheng on the other end of the phone was clearly taken aback for a moment.
Then came a calm and unhurried voice:
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com