Back to 80: My Literary Life

Lu Yao left.

Carrying an old travel bag and holding a cigarette in his hand, he embarked on a long-distance bus to Qinbei. He would lie dormant in that small city deep in the Loess Plateau until he emerged from his shell again, which would shock the entire literary world.

Fang Minghua still lived a leisurely life.

But one thing that bothered him was that he had finished the box of high-grade Longjing tea that Zhao Hongjun gave him!

Originally, one person couldn't drink it so fast, but he gave some to Lu Yao. Zhang Baofu sometimes drank from him secretly because of covetousness.

Ask Zhao Hongjun again?

Sorry about that.

Now I have no choice but to drink labor protection tea, but the more I drink it, the worse the taste becomes.

As expected, it is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but difficult to go from luxury to frugality.

At noon that day, the people looking at the unit were all off work and there were few people around. He couldn't help but ride his bicycle and quickly went to the counter selling high-end tea in Minsheng Department Store and asked. Tea does not require any tickets, and the price of high-end Longjing is 30 yuan for half a catty. !

Damn it!

I can’t buy half a catty of tea with one month’s salary!

With the royalties for the novel, I bought a bicycle and a set of clothes for my sister. I also bought a lot of things for myself, and even treating guests to dinner cost me about the same amount.

The money in the wallet was counted together with the cents, and it was only 23 yuan and 65 cents.

"Comrade, we can sell it for two taels." Seeing that he really wanted it, the salesperson said.

"Then two liang!" Fang Minghua couldn't bear it anymore.

Finally, he packed the two taels of Longjing in an envelope and hurried back to the guard room of the unit, where he made himself a cup of steaming tea first.

Um.

The taste is similar to the one sent by Zhao Hongjun.

After taking a cup, Fang Minghua felt relaxed and happy.

Sitting on a chair and squinting at the blooming spring flowers in the corner, Fang Minghua was thinking about a question.

I have to write something to make money.

What to write? The fastest is poetry.

But all I can remember are some short poems, no more than ten sentences, and the manuscript fee of one yuan per line can't make much money.

Who stipulated this?

No wonder Gu Daxia was forced to break a large paragraph of text into sentence by sentence in order to earn more royalties.

But poetry can’t help

You can't add water.

writing a novel?

I haven’t thought of any good topics yet.

Fang Minghua was aimlessly flipping through a "Contemporary" magazine when he was suddenly attracted by one of the poetry and essay contests. The title was: "The Call of the New Era—Poetry and Essay Contest."

There are two methods for soliciting essays: primary selection and re-selection. First, the editorial department of "Contemporary" will conduct preliminary selection of all entries. After concealing the author's name, they will number them one by one and publish them in the poetry column of "Contemporary".

Readers will cut out the special voting page in the supplement and send it back to the editorial department of "Contemporary" after voting. The judges' score and the reader's vote will each account for 50%. One first prize, two second prizes, and third prize will be selected. Three, and several excellence awards.

The prizes are also quite generous, the first prize is 500 yuan, the second prize is 300 yuan, the third prize is 200 yuan, the excellence prize is 100 yuan...

Each of the judges was even more eloquent: Ai Qing, Feng Zhi, Bian Zhilin... these are all big names active in today's poetry world, while Bei Dao, Gu Cheng, Shu Ting, etc., who were highly praised by the literary youth later, can only be regarded as juniors now.

Wow.

Fang Minghua was a little tempted.

Let’s not talk about the first prize. If you can win the excellence award, it is also 100 yuan, which is your five months’ salary.

At least you can spend 30 yuan to buy half a catty of tea, which is enough for you to drink for a while!

When I looked at the deadline for submissions again, I saw that there were still four days left, so I had to start writing quickly.

What to write?

The essay competition did not emphasize the length of the poem, so the short poems would take advantage.

Fang Minghua took out the letter paper and looked at the willow trees on the street outside showing new buds and the spring flowers blooming in full bloom. After thinking about it, he wrote a few lines on the paper.

"Premonition"

you haven't arrived yet

An isolated house of the Yamano family in early spring

Hear the stars in the night sky

Sudden intense heartbeat.

After folding it, I stuffed it into an envelope, wrote the address, and then rode to the post office not far away and posted the eight-cent stamp in it and mailed it out, and then I cycled back slowly.

Sitting in front of the table, holding an enamel vat and drinking slowly, he suddenly thought, Shu Ting Beidao and the others, who are currently in the limelight in the poetry world, should also participate, right?

That'll be fun.

The beach on Gulangyu Island.

The sea breeze blows gently, the water is clear and the sand is white.

A woman wearing glasses was walking barefoot on the beach, with the sea breeze blowing her hair. She looked at the hard-working woman working in the distance and pondered a poem.

Wildfires are far away, far away

in your amber eyes

Silver jewelry from ancient tribes

Constrain soft waist

Although happiness is unpredictable, a girl’s dream

"The name of the poem should be "Hui'an Women"," she thought for a while and said to herself.

Her name is Shu Ting.

Yanjing, editorial office of Yanjing China Report.

A thin man in his early thirties wearing glasses was sitting at his desk carefully proofreading manuscripts, his expression looking serious.

The door was pushed open, and a fat man walked in, holding a magazine in his hand and saying with a smile: "Old Zhao, here comes your strength, "Contemporary" magazine is holding a poetry and essay contest, hurry up and sign up! "After that, he put the magazine on the desk.

The man with glasses raised his head, picked up the magazine, opened it, looked at it, and said lightly: "Thank you."

The fat man knew that he had this temper, so he was not annoyed and continued: "Old Zhao, if you win the prize, remember to treat him." After that, he turned and left.

The man with glasses looked at the call for papers carefully again, thought about it, took out a brand new manuscript paper, and started writing seriously:

When the night breaks in the puddle

shaking a new leaf

Like rocking your own child to sleep.

Even tomorrow morning

The muzzle and the bloody sun

Let me hand over my youth, freedom and pen

I will never hand over this night

I will never hand you over

"Rainy Night" Beidao.

Shencheng, Wuyi Road.

A thin young man wearing a Chinese tunic suit was standing on the side of the road, looking at the door of a residence across the road.

The door opened and a woman came out.

He rushed over and called out: "Xie Ye, this is a new poem I wrote for you."

"Gu Cheng, my mother is at home and she doesn't let me have contact with you."

"I don't care! I came to Shencheng from Yanjing just for you, to read poems to you!" Gu Cheng looked very willful and took out the poem manuscript and read it aloud.

"I am still a willful child"

I want to paint windows all over the ground,

Let all eyes accustomed to darkness

They are all used to light.

I hope

Able to draw on your beloved white paper

draw clumsy freedom

Never draw another one

tearful eyes

The girl looked at the man reading poetry in front of her and was immediately fascinated.

The entire poetry world was stirred up by the "Contemporary" essay solicitation. After Fang Minghua sent the poem draft, he paid no attention to it.

I go to work and get off work one day, and on weekends I ride a bicycle with my sister to take correspondence courses at Western University.

Time flies very quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it is already mid-March, and Anxi is already a bright spring, with birds chirping and flowers fragrant.

The tulips in Xingqinggong Park have "awakened" to sprout.

The Nandina bamboo on the ruins of Daming Palace is brilliant in color.

With such beautiful scenery, Fang Minghua took advantage of his vacation to ride his bicycle around.

Thanks to Book Friends 20221222185726444 and Love Reading 022 for their monthly votes.