Chapter 23: Feeling Inferior and the Reprint

Beijing Normal University men's dormitory.

Song Jianchun rose exceptionally early today. After freshening up at the washbasin, he even applied hair oil while peering into the mirror. He combed his hair into a slicked-back style, donned a dapper leather jacket, and, for the first time ever, laced up a pair of newly purchased leather shoes.

His roommate, Liu Shu from Shenyang, was at the desk reviewing his studies—specifically, writing a reflection on Kafka’s *The Metamorphosis*. Watching Song Jianchun preening before the mirror, Liu Shu curled his lip and asked, "Oh, Old Song, where are we off to?"

"To the May Fourth Literary Society. The new issue of *Two-Masted Ship* is out today. Teacher Jiang Yong asked me to go early; rumor has it an editor from *Poetry* magazine is coming, too."

Song Jianchun tried his best to maintain a composed expression, but the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably. To an outsider, he might have looked like he was having a seizure.

"Congratulations, congratulations! You’ve made it into the school journal this time; next time, it won't just be the school journal. You might end up in *Poetry* or *People’s Literature*. You'll be a great poet then, and you'll definitely have to treat us to a meal!" Liu Shu’s eyes lit up as he stood up to congratulate his friend.

"That's right, Old Song, don't forget to treat us. You're already a great poet. Look at anyone in this school—who doesn't give you a thumbs up and call you our school's talent?"

"Exactly, exactly."

"Easy, easy!" Song Jianchun replied, smiling and nodding at the flattery before departing the dormitory under the gaze of his peers.

***

Today is New Year's Day, and there are no classes at Beijing Normal University. Since the students come from all over the country, few have gone home, so the campus is quite bustling.

The school bulletin board at the rostrum was already surrounded by a sea of people. Members of the May Fourth Literary Society and the Cradle Literary Society were posting the school journal, with several tables draped in red cloth set up nearby, laden with copies of the magazine.

It was the *Two-Masted Ship*, featuring an abstract cover design that, when pieced together, looked like a small boat. Students and teachers, having finished breakfast, were gathered around to watch.

Zhao Ruixue and her friends were among them, also there to see the journal, though not entirely for that reason. Every holiday, clerks from the Xinhua Bookstore would bring books to various universities for students to browse and buy; whether one could snag a copy depended entirely on speed, so some students preferred walking to the bookstore itself.

Among the books delivered were, of course, copies of *Children’s Literature*. However, this publication was not particularly popular among university students. Modern undergraduates preferred poetry, prose, and serious literature; they had little interest in children's reading material. Zhao Ruixue figured she would be able to buy a copy without it being snatched up instantly like other journals. Sure enough, she had just bought the latest issue and was examining it closely.

"The cover is a submarine?" Zhao Ruixue looked down at the cover of *Children’s Literature* and felt a start of surprise. It seemed the editorial board held Cheng Kaiyan’s short story in high regard. She couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for his masterpiece.

"Ruixue, you bought *Children’s Literature*? Since when do you like reading that?" Ji Qinglan asked curiously.

"Oh... I’m just browsing. I didn't manage to grab anything else."

"Fair enough." Ji Qinglan nodded. "I snagged a copy of *People’s Literature*. I'll lend it to you later. I still need to grab a *Two-Masted Ship*; I want to see what kind of incredible thing this Song Jianchun has written."

"Mhm." Zhao Ruixue, already lost in the fantasy of the underwater world, replied absentmindedly. Who cared about Song Jianchun?

***

Because it was New Year's Day, there were many activities on campus. Besides the release of the school journal, the school auditorium was hosting a poetry recitation competition, which Zhao Ruixue was entering. There would be a grand gala later, and the school was organizing film screenings in the evenings.

In these times, student-teacher interaction was frequent; the professors at the Normal University were always eager to participate in campus activities. The Chinese Department had the most activity, with the literary societies hosting lectures, publishing journals, holding poetry readings, and putting on theatrical performances. Editing and publishing a journal was the fundamental badge of a literary society.

Initially, the university had two student literary societies. One was the "Cradle Literary Society," overseen by the Youth League Committee and the Student Union, with members from all departments. The other was the "May Fourth Literary Society," managed by the Chinese Department’s Youth League branch and the departmental Student Union, with members exclusively from the department.

In truth, the core members of the Cradle Literary Society were mostly literature enthusiasts from the Chinese Department as well. No one questioned the origin of the two societies or spoke of the friction behind their coexistence; it was likely just a matter of group affiliation.

Literary societies typically printed journals and newspapers irregularly. The May Fourth Literary Society’s 16-mo journal, *Two-Masted Ship*, featured a title inscribed by Mr. Qi Gong, a three-color offset cover, and movable-type printing—it was considered a high-end publication.

"Hey! Mr. Qi Gong and Teacher Lan Lizhi are here, and Teacher Jiang Yong from the school newspaper too!"

Someone in the crowd shouted. Ji Qinglan saw an elderly man with a white beard and kind eyes, wearing round glasses, walking in front. Behind him followed several teachers and a man rumored to be an editor from *Poetry* magazine.

"Students, today is the first day of the New Year, 1980. We invite Mr. Qi Gong to deliver our New Year’s address..." Teacher Jiang Yong said into the microphone.

"Respected students, as the New Year’s bell draws near, we stand on the threshold of time, looking back at the past and forward to the future. At this hopeful moment, on behalf of all the teachers at Beijing Normal University, I extend to you my most sincere New Year blessings..." the white-bearded man said.

"Clap, clap, clap..." The students applauded.

After the address, the sale of the school journal began. The crowd surged forward, feeling it was their duty to support their own school publication. Everyone possessed a strong sense of collectivism back then. The motherland and the school were like home!

Upon receiving the journal, the first piece that caught Ji Qinglan’s eye was a poem titled "The One I Love." Judging by the name, it was unsurprisingly the work of Song Jianchun from the class of '78.

Someone in the crowd began to recite aloud: "The evening breeze brushes softly, willow catkins drift, your gaze, like the faint glimmer under an old oil lamp... Your light sigh, that unfinished movement... The promise under the starry sky, softly chanted, love, crossing the walls of time and space."

"This poem is better than the last one; the imagery is richer and more abundant, and the language is more grounded," Ji Qinglan commented thoughtfully.

Song Jianchun stood out in the crowd, occasionally being approached by students with questions. Just then, Editor Zhou from *Poetry* magazine walked over, patted Song Jianchun on the shoulder, and smiled encouragingly: "Student Song Jianchun, remember to submit your poems to *Poetry* next time. There aren't many young people with poetic talent like yours at Beijing Normal University. We at *Poetry* are planning a 'Youth Poetry Seminar' this year, and we need talent like you. Keep working hard..."

"Editor Zhou is too kind. My writing is just a casual endeavor, hardly fit for such a grand stage. *Poetry* is the highest temple in my heart; if it could be published there, it would be my greatest honor." Song Jianchun responded with a modest smile, though his heart was racing. A Youth Poetry Seminar? Was he being invited?

"Keep it up." Editor Zhou nodded reservedly, then turned and walked away without looking back.

"Ruixue, look! Song Jianchun actually got encouragement from Editor Zhou of *Poetry*!" Influenced by the editor’s praise, Ji Qinglan looked at Song with a hint of envy and tugged on Zhao Ruixue’s arm.

Zhao Ruixue shook her head, her mind still lingering on Cheng Kaiyan’s prose. Hearing the envious tone in Ji Qinglan’s voice, she replied flatly, "He's just average."

"Forget it, talking to you is useless. Your heart is already entirely with our Teacher Xiao Cheng. Teacher Xiao Cheng is a good person, but in terms of talent, he doesn't compare to Song Jianchun," Ji Qinglan said, speechless.

These days, the girls in the dorm had figured it out. Ruixue clearly had a thing for her childhood friend; she had been infatuated with him since they were small. It was a case of "beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

But this was *Poetry* magazine! Founded in January 1957, it was the first national poetry journal after liberation. Chairman Mao had personally written a letter supporting its creation, and the first issue began with eighteen of his traditional-style poems, which had caused a huge sensation. *Poetry* was a large-scale, national-level journal hosted by the China Writers Association, primarily publishing contemporary poetry, trends in the poetry scene, and critical reviews. Once published there, one was effectively ranked among the great poets.

"Don't believe me?" Zhao Ruixue’s competitive spirit was ignited. She shoved the copy of *Children’s Literature* into Ji Qinglan’s chest and said excitedly: "Look! Read it and then tell me if someone like Song Jianchun can be called a talent. Does he deserve it? Cheng Kaiyan can't compare to him? Let me show you what a *real* talent is!"

Even now, Zhao Ruixue was still stunned by the prose and the overflowing talent in *Submarine in the Night*. The talent was so potent... once you possessed it, reality seemed insignificant... It was too bold, too youthful, too marvelous, too brilliant!

Seeing Zhao Ruixue’s conviction, Ji Qinglan touched the book pressed against her chest and guessed, "Did Teacher Xiao Cheng write an article, too? In this *Children’s Literature*?" When mentioned, Ji Qinglan suddenly realized: "Oh! No wonder you bought *Children’s Literature*! You hid something as big as Teacher Xiao Cheng’s work from us? Are we still best friends?"

Without waiting for an answer, she impatiently flipped it open and gradually held her breath...

*My God!*

Only one thought remained in Ji Qinglan’s mind: How is Teacher Xiao Cheng so incredible?

***

As time passed, the fervor faded. Some students were still discussing the journal, but most had left the bulletin board. Song Jianchun’s side had also quieted down. He watched Zhao Ruixue in the crowd, concealing an unknown flower he had picked in the small garden in his sleeve. He walked up to her and held out his hand: "Comrade Ruixue, could we move aside for a chat?"

"Say whatever you have to say here. Also, please call me by my full name," Zhao Ruixue frowned.

"What did you think of the poem I wrote today?" Song Jianchun asked, his mouth curved in a reserved, gentlemanly smile.

"Mhm... it was alright. Was that Editor Zhou from *Poetry* just now?" Zhao Ruixue feigned thought, offered a brief compliment, and then changed the subject.

"Thank you for the praise, Comrade Zhao Ruixue. Editor Zhou came to be a judge for the poetry recitation competition. Aren't you participating, too?" Song Jianchun explained, then looked at her mysteriously. "Can I give you a surprise?"

"?"

He used his left hand to shield his right, then flicked his arm, and a pale pink flower appeared before her eyes. "Ta-da! This flower is for you! I hope you like it."

"What is our relationship? Why are you giving me flowers?" Zhao Ruixue turned to leave, but was immediately called back.

"Wait! Can you let me finish?" Song Jianchun’s face went pale, then quickly flushed with blood. He asked with expectant eyes: "Comrade Zhao Ruixue! I like you! Can we go steady?"

"No."

With his neck turning red as if bleeding, Song Jianchun gritted his teeth: "Is it because of that Cheng Kaiyan? I asked my brother; that Cheng Kaiyan got in through connections, through the back door, and he only has a high school diploma! Don't be fooled by him! He only looks handsome; he’s just a flashy showpiece! And you two have no future."

"First, I have no relationship with him. Second, I have no relationship with you. Third, he is much more talented than you. If you don't believe me, you can read the first story in *Children’s Literature*. Watch yourself."

Zhao Ruixue felt nothing after hearing this, simply stating her words calmly, one by one. She had long since moved on; as for now, they were merely student and teacher, or childhood acquaintances. Furthermore, her plans were clear: she only wanted to study hard for the next few years. Date? That was a matter for after graduation. Besides, if Cheng Kaiyan hadn't... well, it wouldn't be too late for her then.

Zhao Ruixue pulled Ji Qinglan away without looking back. After careful consideration, she decided to return to the dorm and write a review of the short story—or perhaps the prose piece—and submit it to the school journal or a magazine.

Song Jianchun was left alone. Filled with resentment, he stormed out of the school gate and headed straight for the Xinhua Bookstore. Half an hour later, he secured a copy of *Children’s Literature* and began reading, intent on finding flaws.

Song Jianchun’s breath gradually hitched, and his face turned ashen as he murmured: "I am inferior..."

***

A few days later, the editorial department of *Children’s Literature*.

The radiator in the editorial office emitted a sweltering heat that made one restless. "Why is the heating so hot today? Did the people at the heating plant go crazy?" Xu Dexia had already taken off her cotton coat and was guarding the telephone. She was waiting for news from the distribution bureau.

As a professional editor of children's literature, Xu Dexia had a keen sense for the market. She believed *Submarine in the Night* had the potential to be a hit. Although *Children’s Literature* adhered to pure literature, it was, after all, for children, and thus prioritized narrative over literary depth. This story was different. Its narrative was light; although the structure was tight, the protagonist's image was thin, visible only through snippets of dialogue, which the author had deliberately downplayed.

The goal was simply to let the readers follow along, to follow the fantasy. As long as the reader’s mind could leap along and resonate with this fantasy, they could keep reading. The key was that children’s imaginations were incredibly rich; they could easily resonate with this piece. Clearly, her decision to place this story first was a success.

In the office, many editors were discussing the story just like Xu Dexia. In the past few days, many people had come to the office to inquire about the story, discussing the author and the plot. Xu Dexia could already tell that this story was going to be a minor sensation. It was only natural; in an era filled with "scar literature," the sudden appearance of a piece with such a novel, fresh style—like eating a mint-flavored candy in the heat of summer—naturally made everyone feel it was unique, and they scrambled to buy it.

The distribution center called: "The first issue of *Children’s Literature* is selling very fast, and our stock is almost bottomed out! It’s not just parents buying it! Middle schoolers and university students are buying it too!"

"Reprint?"

"Reprint! Fifty thousand copies!" Editor-in-Chief Hu pressed out his cigarette and finalized the decision.

Considering it was the New Year, the first issue had only been printed at two hundred thousand copies. The growth trend for *Children’s Literature* in recent months had been stagnant, with September and November barely hitting three hundred thousand. And now, in less than a week, it was almost sold out!

"We’ll go ask Mr. Ye Shengtao to write a review!" Editor-in-Chief Hu gritted his teeth. This was a breakthrough opportunity! By riding this wave, they might just push the circulation of *Children’s Literature* to four hundred thousand!