1980 My Literary Era.

Chapter 478 The Wolf's Ambition
After Zhang Yimou left, Lin Weimin saw that Tong Zhonggui was still in a daze, so he called him.

"Little Tong!" Tong Zhonggui was called back to reality by a voice, and he looked at Lin Weimin.

That's the Oscars!

How many people who make movies may not go there once in their lifetime, but when they come to Mr. Lin's place, it's like opening a small shop on the street.

"Don't just think about good things, the script must be written for others!" Lin Weimin confessed.

Tong Zhonggui's mind immediately shifted from Oscar to the script.

Yes, the script has not been written yet, and I have never written a script.

Thinking of this, he felt a sudden pressure in his heart, and then he put his eyes on Lin Weimin.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't take money. I agreed just now. You write the script, and you provide the snacks yourself."

Lin Weimin made up his mind to be a hands-off shopkeeper.

Seeing this, Tong Zhonggui panicked, like a mistress who was abandoned by a scumbag, "Mr. Lin, you can't leave me alone!"

"You are a graduate of the Chinese Department, so writing a script is definitely no problem, you have to believe in yourself!" Lin Weimin poured chicken soup for Tong Zhonggui, and seeing his worried expression, he said again: "Communicate with Mo Yan when you have time, He is the chief writer of the script of "Red Sorghum" and has experience."

Hearing what Lin Weimin said, Tong Zhonggui felt more at ease.

Since Mo Yan was able to write "Red Sorghum" under the guidance of Mr. Lin, he shouldn't be too bad.

In early April, Lin Weimin received a reply letter from Cheng Zhongshi, in which Cheng Zhongshi said that he had received money from Lin Weimin's wire transfer, and thanked him very much.

With this money, Cheng Zhongshi no longer needs to worry about life in the next two years, and can devote all his energy to the creation of novels with peace of mind.

Although Lin Weimin needs to repay the money, as long as the work is written, the income from a novel is enough to cover the loan, and there is still surplus.

Lin Weimin is relieved that Cheng Zhongshi can write with peace of mind. He is still looking forward to the publication of his novel soon!

Tong Zhonggui got an errand to write scripts, and he has been very busy recently. He hurried home after work every day, and occasionally went to the National Academy of Arts to exchange script writing issues with Mo Yan.

Of course, he communicated more with Lin Weimin, so if he didn't take advantage of such good conditions, wouldn't that be a waste?

This morning, Tong Zhonggui led a girl to knock on Lin Weimin's office.

Yesterday was the weekend, and he had gone to the National Academy of Letters to find Mo Yan to exchange scripts, but he met Mo Yan's classmate Chi Zijian.

Like Lin Weimin, Chi Zijian is from the Northeast, but her hometown is in the northernmost province, and she just entered the National Academy of Arts last year.

At this time, she was well-known in the literary world, and once published "Fairy Tales of Arctic Village" in "People's Literature".

Tong Zhonggui introduced Chi Zijian to Lin Weimin, and Lin Weimin shook hands with her, "I know, Xiaochi and Mo Yan are classmates. I have read the "Fairy Tale of Arctic Village" you published in "People's Literature". The story is novel and unique." , cold and warm, pure and sincere, very well written!"

Chi Zijian's face is very tender, with a bit of childishness, he still looks like a student, with a pure and beautiful appearance, which is extremely outstanding among female writers.

Facing Lin Weimin's enthusiasm, she was a little shy, "Thank you, Teacher Lin!"

The reason why Tong Zhonggui invited Chi Zijian to the editorial department of "Contemporary" this time was entirely because he heard that Chi Zijian had written several novellas during a chat at the National Academy of Arts yesterday.

As Lin Weimin's mantle disciple, Tong Zhonggui has won the true biography of Teacher Lin, how can he miss such a good thing?

It's a pity that Tong Zhonggui's skill is not very good, and Chi Zijian is a little hesitant about submitting to "Contemporary". She still prefers several publications where her previous works have been published, such as "People's Literature" and "China".

After all, they are acquaintances, and the publication is guaranteed.

Tong Zhonggui saw that Chi Zijian was a bit immovable, so he had to mention Lin Weimin's name. He said that Chi Zijian and Lin Weimin could have a face-to-face in-depth exchange. ah!

She entered the school last year and had no chance to meet Lin Weimin. She could only hear about Lin Weimin's demeanor from teachers and classmates. She had the opportunity to meet this time, so she naturally cherished it.

Tong Zhonggui was very reserved when he spoke, but Lin Weimin immediately understood his subtext, and almost praised Chi Zijian as a flower.

The little girl has never experienced this before, she just pulled out the two novellas she had just finished writing in a daze.

"It's not easy, it's not easy. I published one before, and here are two more. After spending half a year in the Faculty of Arts, I will be able to produce such an output. What a talent!"

Lin Weimin's unsparing praise made Chi Zijian blush again, "I just finished writing this novel, and I haven't had time to show it to others, so I don't know how it is written?"

Lin Weimin flipped through the novel for a while, and said, "Above the standard. Keep them all, and wait until the manuscript is carefully reviewed, and let Xiao Tong contact you."

With the approval of Lin Weimin, the editor-in-chief, Chi Zijian was relieved. Since he said so, the publication should not be a big problem, and at most it would be more revisions.

After chatting about creation again, Lin Weimin asked Chi Zijian to have lunch in the cafeteria of the Guowen Society before she left.

Lin Weimin said to Tong Zhonggui: "Not bad, not bad, I can still think about work when I'm resting, I've put my heart into it!"

After finishing speaking, he handed over the two manuscripts to Tong Zhonggui, "Look carefully at the manuscripts, write the review comments in detail, and try to explain all the problems to Zijian at once, so that she can see the professionalism of our "Contemporary" .”

Tong Zhonggui took the manuscript and nodded seriously.

A few days later, Cheng Zaochun suddenly brought Lin Weimin to the office. Looking at Cheng Zaochun's gloomy face, Lin Weimin immediately fell into memory. He shouldn't have done anything out of the ordinary recently, right?

"Leader, what instructions do you want from me?" Lin Weimin asked.

"Speak!"

Cheng Zaochun said something without beginning or end, which was probably similar to the police asking the suspect to explain the situation.

"What?" Lin Weimin was at a loss.

"Pretend! Follow me to pretend! Do you think I don't know?" Cheng Zaochun spoke with a bit of anger.

"Don't lie to me, I've been doing my best recently, and I've never done anything bad!" Lin Weimin was upright, he never did anything wrong, he wasn't afraid of ghosts calling him, and he spoke forcefully.

Cheng Zaochun regarded his toughness as stubborn resistance, and threw a book on the table with a stern expression, as if he was waiting for Lin Weimin's explanation.

Lin Weimin picked it up, glanced at the title of the book on the cover, and then understood.

"I dare you to say this!" He suddenly said.

"Don't give me a hippie smile! I just mentioned you as the deputy editor-in-chief, and you don't care about it!" Cheng Zaochun said heartbroken.

"No. This novel is about events in Europe during World War II, and it doesn't have anything to do with China, so let's publish it there first!" Lin Weimin explained.

His explanation made Cheng Zaochun's expression slightly pale, "What's wrong with writing about Europe? Didn't China participate in World War II? If you write about something with a foreign background, our Chinese readers can't understand it?"

Cheng Zaochun's continuous questioning was full of jealousy.

The book he threw out just now is the American version of "Life is Beautiful Anyway". The novel was released and sold in the United States last month, and it immediately attracted the attention of many overseas students and overseas Chinese.

In the past two years, Lin Weimin's reputation overseas, especially in the United States and France, has grown. Many local Chinese regard him as the pride of the Chinese, and naturally pay special attention to him.

In addition, he had just won the Goncourt Prize for Literature, and Random House attached great importance to the release of his new works. Some bookstores even made posters and banners to promote it. It was hard not to attract attention.

Lin Weimin's works have always been published first by the Chinese Literature Society. This time Cheng Zaochun found out that his novels were published first in the United States. Not only was he full of jealousy, but he also felt a sense of crisis in his heart.

Now among the works published by Guowen Society every year, the sales volume of Lin Weimin's works is still high. It is good that it is published by a foreign publishing house today. What if it is pulled away by other domestic publishing houses in the future?
Have to guard against it!
"Of course readers in China can read it, the main reason is not because they are afraid of bad sales!" Lin Weimin said.

"Our National Literature Society publishes your novel. When did you consider the issue of poor sales? When your own book is published, you also have to consider sales. Isn't that a joke for outsiders?"

Cheng Zaochun's expression was righteous.

If it weren't for knowing how many retired old men and old ladies were suppressed in the agency, the memoirs of the old ladies had not been published, Lin Weimin would have almost believed his nonsense.

Knowing that Comrade Cheng was in a hurry, Lin Weimin said: "Okay, I will write a Chinese version later, and let the agency publish it, okay?"

That's more or less.

Cheng Zaochun was satisfied, but still a little uneasy. After pondering for a while, he said, "Wei Min, look, you are also a veteran of our Chinese Literature Society. Now you are still the leader of the Chinese Literature Society. People, when publishing works, you have to think about your own family..."

"I don't think about our society enough? My books have been published in the society all these years!" Lin Weimin interrupted Cheng Zaochun.

"Yes, your works have been published in the agency these years. I was thinking, look, your works have been published in the agency anyway, why don't we sign an exclusive publishing agreement?"

Lin Weimin looked at Cheng Zaochun's face, and there were four large characters written on it - wolf ambition!
"Old Cheng, you are not kind!" Lin Weimin showed his true colors.

Cheng Zaochun looked slightly embarrassed, "This is also a matter of win-win cooperation! Look..."

Lin Weimin waved his hand to interrupt Cheng Zaochun's plan to brainwash him, "They're both thousand-year-old foxes, so don't chat with me. If you want to sign an exclusive, that's fine, but you have to raise the draft fee standard."

Cheng Zaochun suddenly became unhappy, "How can you mention it? Go out and inquire, is there anyone in the whole country who pays more than your manuscript?"

"It can't be calculated like this. People will give me this price when I go outside. No, it may be even higher." Lin Weimin said calmly.

Cheng Zaochun felt like shooting himself in the foot with a stone, "The price offered by the company is already high enough."

"But don't you want to sign an exclusive contract? Why don't you show some sincerity?" Lin Weimin said calmly.

Cheng Zaochun was squeezed into a corner by his words, hesitated for a moment, and asked, "Then what do you mean?"

Lin Weimin chuckled, "We get royalties abroad!"

Cheng Zaochun was frightened by him and stood up, "Don't even think about it!"

Others don't know, but Cheng Zaochun knows that Lin Weimin signed the highest publishing contracts with foreign publishing houses, and the royalties are often 13% or 15%.

The agency’s current contribution fee to Lin Weimin has already broken through the ceiling of the domestic literary world, but calculated according to the royalties, it is only about 6%. Drown him.

"Look at you, if you want to eat meat but don't want to spend money, how can there be so many good things?" Lin Weimin teased.

Cheng Zaochun was frustrated by his chest, "You kid is really dark!"

"It looks like you don't cook, and the pork is almost five yuan a catty now, and the landlord's house doesn't have any food left!"

Cheng Zaochun couldn't take advantage of it, became angry from embarrassment, and drove Lin Weimin out of the office.

But he said unhurriedly: "You always look back and think about it. Now that it's a market economy, if someone really pays me a high manuscript fee, don't say I didn't inform you."

After driving Lin Weimin away, Cheng Zaochun became more and more depressed as he thought about it.

Today is considered to be a steal and a loss of rice. Originally, the exclusivity was not mentioned, and Lin Weimin didn't raise the manuscript fee.
At the same time, what Lin Weimin said before leaving just now reminded him that the price of goods is soaring now, and if someone really offered Lin Weimin a high price that the Guowen Society did not offer, wouldn't the duck in the mouth of the Guowen Society fly away?
If you are not in charge, you don't know how expensive firewood is, so you have to find a way!
It's a pity that this kid has just been promoted as the deputy editor-in-chief. He's too young to handle it!

(End of this chapter)