1980 My literary era

"He, tui!"

"He, tui!"

Almost at the same time, Lin Weimin and Qu Xiaowei, who had completed the transaction, sent signals of contempt to each other.

"Lin Weimin!" Before Lin Weimin could continue to despise Qu Xiaowei, Tang Yuqiu called him from afar.

"Teacher Tang, what's the matter?" Lin Weimin ran over.

"While you were away in the morning, Shihui came over to deliver the manuscript payment slip to you. Take a look."

Tang Yuqiu handed an envelope to Lin Weimin, and he took it and opened it generously.

It worked, pretty much as he expected. "The Death of Yura" is a short story with only more than 18,000 words, and the manuscript fee is only 8 yuan per 1,000 words, a total of 152 yuan.

Counting the two novels, the total cost is 816 yuan.

It is equivalent to two years' salary of an ordinary worker in this era. I dare not say that it is too old to buy a house easily in Yanjing City.

Writers in this era are indeed the happiest. Unlike in previous years, writing was all for free, and unlike in later years, the increase in manuscript fees has not kept up with the soaring prices.

With these more than 800 yuan, Lin Weimin's savings officially exceeded four digits, and the sense of crisis in his heart finally faded a little.

This journey has not been easy!

With two pieces of bad money in his hand, Lin Weimin couldn't help but start to remember the bitterness and sweetness.

But he was interrupted by Qu Xiaowei, "Hey! I've paid for the publication fee again, can you do it?"

Lin Weimin shook off the royalties and said, "What the hell do you care?"

Yesterday you ignored me, but today I am beyond your reach.

"Hit your sex!" Qu Xiaowei cursed, but turned around and grabbed the manuscript fee slip from Lin Weimin's hand with a playful smile.

He hasn't published anything for more than half a year, and the royalties can only be whiffed to satisfy his craving.

In just half a month, Lin Weimin's two novel manuscripts were successively adopted by "Zhongshan" and "Contemporary", making the students in the Literature Institute full of envy.

It has been almost two months since we all came to the Literary Research Institute. Many of them have published new works, but not many have truly reached the level of "Zhongshan" and "Contemporary".

Among these classmates, the most stable one is Jiang Zilong. He has already published two manuscripts in "People's Literature" and "Contemporary" respectively. One of them is the previously mentioned "The Biography of Director Qiao", which was born out of Jiang Zilong's The Adult One of the famous works is "Director Qiao's Assumption of Work".

No one in the class expected that the young man Lin Weimin would be the first to follow in Jiang Zilong's footsteps and take the lead in today's first-tier literary magazines in China.

Although this kid usually laughs and laughs, when it comes to his talent in writing, he is really high.

Huang Zonghan often said this when chatting with his classmates in private.

This is Huang Zonghan’s sincere feeling after reading two recent novels written by Lin Weimin.

Two completely different styles, different writing methods, different characters and plots, but they can appear so smoothly in the writing of the same person. Every time he thinks of this, he can't help but feel a little discouraged, feeling that his creations over the years have been nothing short of terrible. There is no growth at all in the belly.

He was not the only one in the class to feel this way about Huang Zonghan. When Lin Weimin received the second manuscript payment bill, he was also being discussed in the girls' dormitory.

"Let me tell you, our little Anyi has a good taste and picked a talented person right away." Tang Kangmei joked.

"Sister Kangmei, don't talk nonsense." Huang Anyi blushed.

Seeing her like this, Tang Kangmei said: "Okay, okay, I won't tease you anymore."

"Sister Kangmei, tell me why Lin Weimin is so awesome. I didn't realize that he was so playful before, but as soon as he became serious, he immediately published two novels, both in "Zhongshan" and "Contemporary"." Huang Xiaoying said with a smile. He asked in an envious tone.

"Yeah, who would have thought that if you look at Lin Weimin's usual carefree attitude, you would think that he has nothing to do with literature."

"Hmm!"

Huang Anyi was not very happy when she heard this, and coughed lightly, which immediately aroused everyone's ridicule, "Hey, you said your lover is distressed?"

"You...don't talk nonsense."

Someone laughed and said, "Okay, okay, we are talking nonsense. You two are innocent and have nothing to do with each other."

It was obviously a statement of clarification, but the yin and yang of the deliberate words made Huang Anyi extremely depressed.

"Okay, don't interrupt An Yi." Tang Kangmei advised, and then said: "Mr. Huang said that Wei Min was born to eat this bowl of rice."

“I didn’t believe it before, but when I saw him, I really felt that writing requires talent.

Do you guys still remember? I went to watch a movie in Xiaoxi Tian'er that day. Obviously everyone had watched it, and many people had a lot of emotions, but he was the only one who only watched the movie once, and the clear plot and thick core had already been formed in his mind. I don’t know about others, but I can’t do it anyway. "

Tang Kangmei's tone was full of admiration. Although she always talked about her age, when it came to talent and strength, she had to admire Lin Weimin.

"That's true." Huang Xiaoying sighed, "I really don't know when we will be like Lin Weimin. Publishing novels in magazines such as "Contemporary" and "Zhongshan" will be as easy as drinking water."

"This kind of thing cannot be rushed. Some people rely on talent to write, just like Lin Weimin. And some people may have a little talent, but they rely more on acquired hard work, such as us." Tang Kangmei said in an experienced tone.

She is the eldest sister in the dormitory, and everyone is very convinced of her views.

The originally good atmosphere of the lying talk suddenly became quiet, and everyone felt a little uninterested.

Talent, what a rare thing!

For most people, it is out of reach.

The next day, Mr. Wu Zuxiang lectured on "Dream of Red Mansions" in the morning. The old man was a master of red studies.

Thanks to Lin Weimin and others who went to Wangfujing Bookstore to queue up to grab classics, everyone in the class already had a good understanding of "Dream of Red Mansions" before the class started, and there was no difficulty listening to Mr. Wu Zuxiang's class. .

In class, Wu Zuxiang sat sideways behind the desk, with his head slightly tilted in the direction of his classmates. He did not give lectures with handouts, but just picked them up at his fingertips.

When it comes to excitement, he will lean over the desk and stare directly at the students in the front row, which makes people feel weak.

When the class was over, the old gentleman did not directly say that the get out of class was over. Instead, he stood up and supported the podium with his hands, asking everyone to talk about some feelings or thoughts about reading "Dream of Red Mansions".

The students in the class looked at each other in confusion. Except for a few people, everyone had just read "Dream of Red Mansions" roughly. Talking about feelings and thoughts in front of people like Wu Zuxiang was nothing more than playing tricks on the class.

"You don't have any ideas? You shouldn't, right? Are you sorry? Then I'll name you." The old gentleman smiled like an old naughty boy.

He raised his finger, made a half-circle in mid-air, and finally locked on a handsome and attractive face.