Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 137 136 Royalty received, buy the painting immediately

Fang Minghua quickly took a closer look.

The painting is a piece of bamboo, about 100 centimeters long and 60 centimeters wide.

And it’s only 3000 yuan!
  Zheng Banqiao’s authentic calligraphy!

However, 3000 is not a small amount, and it is worth a house in this era.

It was obvious that Jia Pingwa was hesitant.

Withdraw all the savings at home, and if you add them together, you can get 3000 yuan.

But he knew he couldn't do it.

I don't live alone, I have a wife and daughter, and my wife may not agree.

Who wants to spend all their savings on a painting that they can’t eat or drink now?
  But Fang Minghua is willing.

But the problem is, he can’t come up with 3000 yuan now!
  What the hell!

When "Ming Pao" sent me the royalties, the first thing I did was run here, and I tried hard to buy this painting!

Fang Minghua thought secretly in his heart.

The two said goodbye to Yan Bingchu, and under Jia Pingwa's guidance, Fang Minghua found a relatively reputable calligraphy and painting mounting shop to frame the two authentic paintings of Qi Baishi and pick them up a week later.

After separating from Jia Pingwa, Fang Minghua still couldn't forget Zheng Banqiao's "Ink Bamboo Picture" and looked forward to "Ming Pao" quickly remitting the royalties.

Finally, in mid-August, there was a response from Xiangjiang. The sales of "The Legend of Wukong" were good, and a portion of the royalties would be paid off first, totaling HK$10, and after tax, it would be HK$8.

Taking the remittance slip sent from Xiangjiang, Fang Minghua immediately rode straight to the Bank of China on Xiliu Road, which was the bank that conducted foreign exchange settlement business in this era.

Naturally, you cannot withdraw Hong Kong dollars. The bank has automatically converted them into RMB according to the legal exchange rate of the year.

Don’t send the settlement back to the mainland for the time being. Is it possible to open an account in Xiangjiang and exist in Xiangjiang?

Fang Minghua doesn't quite understand, but he doesn't worry. Song Tangtang's aunt is in Pengcheng, so she can understand her somewhat, right?

But this is something that will happen later. I’ll write to Chen Jiawei when I have time and finish today’s things first!
  Fang Minghua simply opened an account at the Bank of China and withdrew 3000 yuan, 300 bundles of 3 ten-yuan "Great Unity" sheets.

He carefully put it into the yellow satchel, put the yellow satchel on his chest, and then left quickly.

3000 yuan.

Almost a house.

How many houses will a Zheng Banqiao painting be worth in the future?
  Without stopping for a moment, he rode straight to Baoji Lane, the south courtyard gate, and knocked on Yan Bingchu's small courtyard door.

Yan Bingchu opened the door and was surprised to see Fang Minghua, who was sweating profusely, and asked him what brought him here.

Fang Minghua didn't mince words. After entering the house, he took out 3 bundles of RMB and put them on the table, indicating that he wanted to buy the authentic Zheng Banqiao.

"Writer Xiaofang, where did you get this money?" Yan Bingchu was confused.

"Part of it is my royalties, and I also borrowed some money." Fang Minghua had already thought of an excuse.

"I originally wanted to buy a house for our wedding, but I really like your original painting of Zheng Banqiao, so I want to buy it."

Yan Bingchu laughed after hearing this.

"Xiao Fang, you are indeed a sweetheart. You like calligraphy and painting so much. Okay, I will sell it to you!"

Ten minutes later, Fang Minghua excitedly rushed out of the courtyard gate with this "Ink Bamboo Picture" by Zheng Banqiao.

After arriving at the unit, I first went to my dormitory and carefully put this painting and two paintings by Qi Baishi into a brown box and locked it.

Good things naturally want to be shared.

The first thing Fang Minghua thought of was Song Tangtang. It’s my girlfriend.
  The family is keeping it secret for now.

Especially my mother, if she knew that she spent 3000 yuan to buy a painting, she would probably scold herself bloody.

In the evening, Song Tangtang came to Fang Minghua's dormitory. Fang Minghua closed the door and carefully took out the three paintings and placed them on the desk for Song Tangtang to admire.

The girl looked at it carefully and said, "It looks very nice, but I don't understand calligraphy and painting. I heard from my aunt that the rich people in Xiangjiang like celebrity calligraphy and painting very much, and they are quite valuable at auction."

"So, Tangtang, just by relying on this thing, you can live comfortably and even enjoy glory and wealth." Fang Minghua added.

Unexpectedly, the girl raised her eyebrows and looked at him: "What do you say? There is no need to pursue or struggle in life? You have also read the book "How Steel Was Tempered" and remember what Paul said That sentence, right?"

"Remember, why don't you remember?" Fang Minghua replied with a smile, and then recited:

"A person's life should be spent like this: when he looks back on the past, he will not regret for being inactive and wasting his years, nor will he feel guilty for being despicable and living a mediocre life. In this way, when he is dying, he will be able to say: I have dedicated my whole life and all my energy to the most magnificent cause in the world - the struggle for the liberation of mankind."

People in the 1960s and 1970s, as long as they have read books, probably everyone knows this famous saying.

"Minghua, I feel that although it is not as high-pitched as the songs of that era, I feel that people must pursue and strive, and not waste time!"

"You're right. I will continue to fight now." Fang Minghua said, opening the desk drawer.

"what?"

"Keep writing my book."

"Okay, show me your finished manuscript."

Song Tangtang took the stack of manuscripts handed over by Fang Minghua and sat next to him to read them carefully.

have to.
  We originally made an appointment to go pave the road together tonight, but it ended up being a mess.

When "The Legend of Wukong" was published in Xiangjiang, very few people in Xijing knew about it. Fang Minghua didn't even tell his parents. Most people only knew that Fang Minghua went to Shanghai to revise the manuscript and failed, and finally rewrote a short stream of consciousness novel and published it in "Harvest" superior.

Fang Minghua didn't want this matter to become known to the whole city. After all, royalties of tens of thousands of dollars were still a huge amount of money in this era, so it was better to keep a low profile.

But Zhao Hongjun knew.

The Planning Commission's fund-raising department now demanded payment of the remaining balance, so Fang Minghua went to Zhao Hongjun with more than 2,000 yuan and handed it over to him.

The other party was a little surprised:

"It's royalties again? No way? So much? I haven't seen you publish any big novels recently? You won't ask Song Tangtang's family to borrow them, right?"

"Nonsense!" Fang Minghua glared at him: "It's my royalties, to be precise."

He briefly told the story of publishing his book in Hong Kong.

This is his best friend. Even the fund-raising house was transferred to him, so there is no need to hide it.

"Oh my god. You actually published it in Xiangjiang! It's amazing. I want to treat you. I won't eat mutton dip or anything like that. I want to have a big dinner! Go to Xijing Restaurant!"

"Okay, okay" Fang Minghua agreed.

This time it was placed at Xijing Restaurant near the Bell Tower.

When it comes to Xijing restaurants, everyone in old Xijing knows about them. Since the establishment of the Nian Restaurant in the 1920s, folk songs such as "East Bells and West Drums, Blue Dragons and White Tigers, Coriander Hot Soup, Xijing Restaurant" have been sung in the streets and alleys.

Just the three of them, Fang Minghua, Song Tangtang and Zhao Hongjun.

After drinking for a while, Zhao Hongjun was a little drunk and said: "Hey Minghua, you can still make money. A book can sell for tens of thousands. I can't earn back my salary in ten years."

After hearing this, Fang Minghua stopped his chopsticks and asked, "What? Are you thinking about quitting again?"

(End of this chapter)