1980 My Literary Era.

Chapter 89
In the last few days before the Spring Festival, Lin Weimin entered a state of retreat.

During the festival, the operation of the Chinese Literature Society went into a dormant state, with only a few people on duty every day, and even most of the writers in the guest house in the back building went home.

Apart from Lin Weimin, the only two people left on the third floor were Zheng Guo who was next door to him.

At first, Zheng Guo would go to Lin Weimin to chat with Lin Weimin when he was free. Later, seeing Lin Weimin's attitude of concentrating on writing behind closed doors, he felt embarrassed to bother him again.

Lin Weimin's state lasted until the New Year's Eve. When the tip of his pen dropped the last word on the manuscript paper, he felt inexplicably lost.

He put down the pen in his hand, got up and went to the window.

The city of Yanjing, which has just had a heavy snowfall, is covered with snow, the sky is vast and the land is vast, and the sound of festive firecrackers can be heard in the distance.

He suddenly woke up. Today seems to be New Year's Eve?
Lin Weimin went to look through the perpetual calendar, isn't it just New Year's Eve!
These days, he is obsessed with writing, almost day and night, and he has completed a short novel of [-] to [-] words in just one week, which is unbelievable to think about.

Such high-intensity creation not only requires creative ability, but also a test of the writer's physical strength.

Lin Weimin took a look in the mirror. Compared with the previous few days, he was haggard and thinner at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Damn, this is too exaggerated, I feel like I can gain ten catties if I lose weight.

Lin Weimin put down the mirror with some fear, and secretly vowed in his heart that he would never forget to sleep and eat like this again.

The body is the capital of the revolution, without the body, everything is in vain.

"For the people!" There was a knock on the door, it was Zheng Guo's voice.

Lin Weimin opened the door, and Wan Fang stood behind Zheng Guo.

"This lesbian came to you and found out about my room."

Zheng Guo explained, with a hint of gossip hidden in his eyes.

"Sister, why are you here?"

Hearing Lin Weimin's words, Zheng Guo felt a little disappointed, it turned out to be the senior sister.

Wan Fang didn't answer his question, but instead asked, "How did you become like this?"

Lin Weimin smiled indifferently, "Recently I wrote a novel in retreat."

"Oh?" Wan Fang became interested when he heard it.

Wan Fang did not have much contact with Lin Weimin, but because of his father's relationship, he knew Lin Weimin a little bit. He knew that he always wrote things quickly and well. His current honor is quite different from his usual performance. .

"What kind of work can torture you like this?"

"It's not torture. The main thing is that the writing is too smooth and I didn't take much rest."

Hearing what Lin Weimin said, Wan Fang wanted to see this work even more.

But right now she still has a task, "My dad asked you to go home to celebrate the New Year."

"Write it and forget it. Sister, wait for me to clean up."

Lin Weimin hurriedly cleaned up, and Zheng Guo left wisely. When he finished packing, Wan Fang asked, "Take the manuscript with you too."

"What kind of manuscripts are you reading for Chinese New Year?"

"Aren't you afraid that my dad will ask you?"

Lin Weimin thought so too. Every time he went to see Mr. Wan, he couldn't escape the topic of creation. This time he brought a freshly released work, and the old man had nothing to say.

He and Wan Fang rode bicycles to Muxidi, and their ears were about to fall off from the cold.

"Hiss! It's really cold today!" Lin Weimin said angrily after entering the room.

Mr. Wan was making dumplings with his wife in the kitchen. Seeing Lin Weimin arriving, he said, "Here you are? You are so hard to invite!"

Lin Weimin laughed and said, "Teacher, you can't blame me for this. The past two days have been full of inspiration!"

Mr. Wan glanced at him, wondering if he was lying.

"Dad, Weimin said that he just wrote a long novel, and the manuscript has been brought over." Wan Fang said.

Mr. Wan finally showed some surprise on his expression, "How long did it take?"

"One week." Lin Weimin replied honestly.

The old man muttered, writing a novel in a week, you brat, right?
Right now, he didn't care about making dumplings anymore, and handed over the job of rolling the dough to Wan Fang, "Bring me the manuscript for a look."

Lin Weimin honestly handed in the manuscript, and wanted to move closer to him, but was chased away by the old man, "Go and make your dumplings!"

He and Wan Fang got together, and Wan Fang asked, "What is the subject of your novel?"

"Well, if you want to classify it hard, it should be included in scar literature." Lin Weimin said uncertainly.

"Scar literature? Is it old-fashioned? It doesn't fit your style!"

"What's my style?"

Wan Fang stared at him, "You don't seem to have any style either."

"Nonsense, my style is ever-changing."

The two chatted and bickered, and the work on their hands didn't stop.Wan Fang rolled out the dumpling wrappers, and Lin Weimin and his teacher's mother Li Yuru made dumplings.

The three of them worked together and finished making the dumplings in less than half an hour.

Li Yuru, the teacher's wife, started to cook, and Wan Fang and Lin Weimin helped her.

At this time, the sound of firecrackers outside became louder and louder.

The New Year's Eve dinner in the north is generally held at noon on the New Year's Eve, and firecrackers are indispensable before the meal.

By the time the three of them were almost done with their work, it was almost one o'clock in the afternoon.

Lin Weimin thought of Mr. Wan who was reading the manuscript. Looking up, the old man was sitting motionless on the sofa in the living room, still holding his manuscript.

"Master, I'm here to serve the dishes, you go and call the teacher." Lin Weimin took the plate from Li Yuru's hand and said.

Li Yuru went to the living room and called Mr. Wan. He raised his head, as if he was in a trance, and he regained his composure.

"Yuru!"

"The food is ready, let's eat."

"okay."

The old gentleman stood up in a daze, probably because he had been sitting for too long and did not move. He was a little unstable when he got up. Fortunately, Li Yuru helped him.

"what happened?"

"It's okay, I've been sitting for a long time."

Mr. Wan came down to the living room with Li Yuru's support, and Lin Weimin asked with concern, "Teacher, are you alright?"

Mr. Wan waved his hand, "It's all right, let's sit down and eat first."

Everyone at the dinner table could see that the old man was in a bad state, but no one asked him when he saw that he didn't want to say more.

Li Yuru went to take out the freshly boiled dumplings and put them on the table. There were also six dishes on the table, two hot and four cold, three meat and three vegetarian dishes, rich yet simple.

"Teacher, don't you say a few words?" Lin Weimin asked.

Mr. Wan showed a slight smile on his face, "We are all a family, what can we talk about? Let's have a reunion dinner!"

After he finished speaking, he motioned for everyone to move their chopsticks.

Lin Weimin was not polite, and it wasn't the first time he had dinner at Mr.'s house.

These days, he was retreating in the dormitory, and he was really neglecting his diet. He suddenly ate delicious home-cooked meals, his appetite was greatly stimulated, and he kept picking up chopsticks.

"Weimin, I think you are too fake, right?" Wan Fang said.

Lin Weimin shook his head, "Senior sister, you are wrong, you don't know what I'm living these days."

(End of this chapter)