1980 My Literary Era.

Chapter 206 Herding sheep, marrying a wife, and having a baby

Although he hated Lin Weimin's words every time, but the accuracy of this guy's prediction was too high, and Wang Shuo wondered if he had a bit of skill in his mouth.

"Is there any way to break it?" Wang Shuo asked strangely.

Lin Weimin shook his head, and looked at Wang Shuo with disgust in his eyes, "You think I'm a fortune-teller on the street? My head is full of ghosts and monsters!"

Wang Shuo was angry for a while, this thief grandson is really hateful.

Although it is not clear why Lin Weimin can speak so accurately every time, Wang Shuo still believes in his words very much.

But if he really made him give up the lucrative business of flipping electronic watches, he really couldn't bear it.

Sometimes life is like this, you know that the road ahead is full of ups and downs, but because of various reasons such as greed, luck, etc., the soles of your feet are full of blood blisters.

Lin Weimin didn't expect to be able to persuade Wang Shuo, but just reminded him that it's fine if he can't make money, don't worry about it.

Next year's attack can be said to be all-round, including opportunistic peddlers like Wang Shuo and Xie Jing, even if they are the so-called children of the big courtyard, they will not be spared.

Wang Shuo walked away full of worry, Lin Weimin looked at his back with some regrets, next year's January issue is indeed a good opportunity.

But for Wang Shuo, it doesn't seem to be that important.Even if there is no chance of the January issue, as long as he gives up the idea of ​​making a lot of money and develops on the road of writing with peace of mind, it will definitely not be bad.

After returning to Yanjing to rest for two or three days, Lin Weimin set off again under the urging of Tan Chaoyang.

It was also before he left that he knew that the person who was going to contribute this time also had a background.

Cheng Zhongshi is different from several young authors Lin Weimin contacted for the January issue. He was born in 1942 and is already 40 years old this year. Belong to their own representative works.

But Cheng Zhongshi's maturity seems to be a bit late, although he has created many short stories such as "After Succession" and "Gao Family Brothers" about the life of farmers in Guanzhong, Shaanxi in recent years, and he is quite well-known in the local literary circles in Shaanxi. .

But the dissemination of fame is always regional, and the influence of the works cannot be said to be great.

In the final analysis, the reason is that he lacks a heavyweight novella or novel.

It was Tan Chaoyang who thought of writing with him while chatting with several colleagues and friends, so Lin Weimin's trip to Shaanxi came about.

This year, Cheng Zhongshi has just been transferred to the creative team of the SX Provincial Literary Association and has become a professional writer.

However, as a professional writer, he not only did not move his family into the city, but moved back to his hometown in a very remote location.

Xijiang Village, where Cheng Zhongshi's ancestral home lived, is about 50 miles away from Xi'an, although there are buses from the city to the suburbs.

But the terminal was set in front of a military academy, about seven or eight miles away from Cheng Zhongshi's home.

Lin Weimin walked on the dirt road in the countryside with one foot deep and one foot shallow. The cold wind in the Central Plains was biting.

This trip to compiling manuscripts is the hardest one he has ever had in his career, Lin Weimin thought to himself.

Fortunately, an old man driving a car passed by at this time. He was almost dressed like an old farmer in Guanzhong, and Lin Weimin felt close to him immediately.

"Young man, where are you going?" the old man asked Lin Weimin as he drove the ox cart.

"Go to Xijiang Village and find a writer named Cheng Zhongshi. Uncle, do you know him?"

The old man laughed, "There is a great writer in Xijiang Village, who doesn't know, he is very famous!"

The old man looked at Lin Weimin again, "Then are you that...what's your name?"

Lin Weimin reminded: "Edit."

"Yes, editor, let him write."

Lin Weimin laughed, "Yes, he was the one to write."

"Which newspaper do you belong to?"

"Master, we are not a newspaper, but a magazine called "Contemporary"."

""Contemporary"? Have you ever heard of it, is it bigger than "Xi'an Daily"?"

"This is incomparable. We are a literary magazine, which is different from a newspaper."

The topic did not cause a gap because of mutual knowledge, the uncle chatted with Lin Weimin for a while, and then raised his voice.

Perhaps only the vast and majestic land of Guanzhong can give birth to and carry the lofty and heroic Xintianyou. Lin Weimin listened to the rough singing in his ears, and what came to mind was Shi Tiesheng's "My Remote Qingping Bay".

On the land with high loess slopes and ravines, there may be many broken old men. They call their children "Xin'er". They do everything by their bodies, and they also value commitments.

They lived on this land day after day, year after year, without a single hope.

A joke suddenly appeared in Lin Weimin's mind.

The reporter interviewed a sheep-herding boy. What does he herd sheep for? He wants to earn money, marry a wife, and have children.

Ask him what he does when he has a baby, and he still answers: Herding sheep, marrying a daughter-in-law, and giving birth to a baby.

Children and grandchildren, endless.

But isn't this also a kind of life?

Lin Weimin couldn't help thinking of Lu Yao and Cheng Zhongshi again. Perhaps it was because of such a rich land that they were able to write those magnificent works.

"Young students, here we come!"

The old man's shout interrupted Lin Weimin's imagination. He jumped out of the car and thanked the old man, then turned and walked towards Xijiang Village.

Cheng Zhongzhong is very famous in Xijiang Village, he is the kind who can know his home address by just asking any child.

The ancestral house of Cheng Zhongshi's family is located at the foot of the northern slope of Bailuyuan. Lin Weimin found his home with the guidance of two children.

When Lin Weimin found him, Cheng Zhongshi was sitting in his room writing.

Hearing Lin Weimin's self-introduction, Cheng Zhongshi was a little surprised. His face was like a loess plateau, with criss-cross ravines, condensed with the vicissitudes of time.

He spoke with a strong Shaanxi accent, and Lin Weimin was struggling to hear it.

"It's really hard for Mr. Lin to let you run so far." Cheng Zhongshi said with a sincere expression and a touch of emotion.

The two sat on two small stools in the middle of the room, about thirty to forty centimeters high from the ground, and there was a table next to it. This was where Cheng Zhongshi ate and wrote on weekdays.

Lin Weimin looked around, it was a bit too simple.

In his view, Cheng Zhongshi and Lu Yao were both born in Shaanxi, but they have gone to two extremes.

Lu Yao is stretching out desperately, but still clinging to his roots, while Cheng Zhongshi is restrained and plain.

After talking about the process along the way, and introducing the meaning of the January issue in detail, Lin Weimin turned to Cheng Zhongshi.

"Is Brother Cheng interested?"

Lin Weimin called Cheng Zhongshi his teacher at first, and Cheng Zhongshi was a little embarrassed. Although Lin Weimin was young, his achievements in writing were actually much better than him, even though he came to see him as an editor now , but hearing him call him that, Cheng Zhongshi still felt uncomfortable.

So Lin Weimin changed his address to "Brother Cheng", which is both friendly and catchy, and Cheng Zhongshi felt very comfortable.

Cheng Zhongshi hesitated and said, "At my age, I won't join in the fun with young people, right?"

Lin Weimin had no choice but to continue explaining that the January issue was not just aimed at young writers like Yu Hua and the like. The deeper meaning was to introduce a group of new faces to readers. The general readership's familiarity with the writer and their work.

Seeing that Cheng Zhongshi was still hesitant, Lin Weimin didn't get entangled in this topic, but instead asked, "Has Brother Cheng written any works recently?"

Cheng Zhongshi said: "I actually wrote an article, but I just haven't submitted it yet."

Lin Weimin said happily, "Why don't you let me have a look?"

Cheng Zhongshi took out a stack of manuscripts and handed them to Lin Weimin, "There is still a part of it, which is the novel I am writing, and it is all novelettes."

Lin Weimin sat on a low stool and looked down at the manuscript, while Cheng Zhongzhong was smoking a cigarette with a calm expression.

Time passed slowly in the winding upward smoke, Lin Weimin raised his head and looked at Cheng Zhongshi.

"Brother, give us "Contemporary" these two manuscripts!"

Cheng Zhongshi Gujing's expressionless expression finally became turbulent, "Can you post it?"

Lin Weimin thought for a while, and pointed to the completed work, "This "Kang's Small Courtyard" needs to be revised. If this "Early Summer" can maintain this quality, there will be no problem publishing it."

Only then did Cheng Zhongshi heave a sigh of relief. His submission process over the years has never been so smooth. Lin Weimin needed two novellas, which made him a little uncomfortable. That's right.

Moreover, he has been focusing on the creation of short stories in the past few years. It was not until he joined the Shaanxi Literature Association this year that he moved into the field of novella creation.

Cheng Zhongshi honestly told Lin Weimin why he created the novella.

He has just been transferred to the Shaanxi Cultural Association to engage in professional creation this year. The only feeling is that he has reached the best position in life, but it is followed by fear and pressure.

"What if I become a professional writer and can't write works? What if I can't write decent works?"

Cheng Zhongshi shook his head, with a look of distress that could not be resolved.

"That's why I moved my family from the city back to my hometown, just to make myself clear and control myself. When I come back, I not only need to engage in creation, but also require a quiet and peaceful side to study. My foundation is still too weak."

Listening to Cheng Zhongshi's last sigh, Lin Weimin can only say that everyone must have his own way of success.

At least among so many authors that Lin Weimin has come into contact with, his attitude is extremely rare.

"Brother, your thinking is right, and the direction of your efforts is also right." Lin Weimin shook the manuscript in his hand, "These works are the best proof."

When Cheng Zhongshi heard this, the smile on his face was somewhat relieved.

Lin Weimin put the manuscript on the table, and asked as if unintentionally: "My brother has been writing for so many years, didn't he plan to write a long novel to prove himself?"

(End of this chapter)