Chapter 31: Am I Even Human Anymore?

Li Tuo smiled and said, “Now that I’ve figured out this question, I won’t bother everyone anymore.”

“Hey? Weren’t you here to submit something to the magazine?” Li Qingquan, the editor-in-chief of Beiping Literature, was not one to let him off easily.

“Of course! I’ll write a literary review titled ‘The ‘Root’ of Culture’ and bring it to you in a few days,” Li Tuo said, lighting a cigarette. The slight itch in his mind had finally dissipated. All he wanted now was to quickly finish this literary review.

“By the way, Teacher Wang, you mentioned in your last paragraph that I need to include your novel in my review. Would you agree to that?”

Li Tuo was clever; it seemed like a simple question, but both men knew this was a moment to witness the birth of a classic, as well as a new literary trend. Whoever said it first would see their influence rise alongside it.

Li Tuo’s inspiration came from Wang Zengqi, so he naturally wouldn’t forget the elder.

Wang Zengqi nodded. “If you want to include it, I’m fine with that.”

Relieved, Li Tuo hurriedly left the magazine office.

Li Qingquan turned to Wang Zengqi and asked, “Comrade Wang, are you here to submit your manuscript today?”

“No, not really. I haven’t even received the payment for the last piece I submitted. I just came to check,” Wang replied.

“...”

Li Qingquan was speechless for a moment.

It turned out both of them had just come to chat, without any manuscripts ready for submission. Li Qingquan sighed and nodded, “Alright then, Comrade Wang. I’ll have Xiao Zhang bring your payment over shortly. Come inside and have some tea first.”

Zhang Deling nodded and quickly went to the finance department to fetch Wang Zengqi’s payment.

~

As for Li Tuo, he hurried home riding his old bicycle. Just as he had said, his mind was bursting with inspiration.

He was constantly thinking about finishing that literary review.

Back in his room, after some thought, Li Tuo decided he needed to discuss this important matter with the author himself. As for Li Yousi’s home?

The magazine had already said it was the Zhanqi Art Troupe. How many writers named Li Yousi could there be there?

So without hesitation, he wrote a letter of self-introduction to Li Yousi, expressing his admiration for the author’s work, and sent it to the Zhanqi Art Troupe by mail.

Having done all this, Li Tuo felt at ease and returned to his room to continue writing the literary review.

—

Meanwhile, in late December in Beiping, the snow was falling heavier and heavier. If the snow in front of the door wasn’t swept, it could pile up to ten centimeters thick — the largest snowfall Zhang Li had ever seen in her life.

For the first few days, she was excited and even played snowball fights and built snowmen with some friends from the guesthouse. But as the cold deepened, she had no choice but to stay indoors reading and studying.

She was studying the tasks given to her by Director Wang Guie — the arts of qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting were essential accomplishments for a refined young lady. It would be even better if she could compose poetry.

That morning, Zhang Li got up early and changed into a light gray cotton jacket. Brisk and refreshed, she stepped out of the room.

After turning several corners, she finally arrived at the bookstore closest to her guesthouse. She browsed the magazines — mostly popular fiction like Story Club and Story King. Yes! And there was one magazine that didn’t quite fit her temperament: Wulin.

Wulin magazine was first published in Guangzhou in July 1981. From its inception, Wulin was the first in the country to serialize Jin Yong’s The Legend of the Condor Heroes, sparking a nearly decade-long martial arts craze across the nation.

In 1981, Old Jin went to the People’s Great Hall in Beiping, attracting much attention from the Chinese community.

From that point, Jin Yong’s novels gradually became more accessible, and at least by now, they were still easy to find.

“Has the December issue of Beiping Literature arrived yet?” Zhang Li didn’t know exactly when it was published, so she came by once every week or two.

When she came yesterday, the magazine had sold out. She heard that a particular story inside was very popular, and everyone was scrambling to get a copy.

The bookstore clerk, noticing her, smiled and advised her to come early the next day for the new stock.

So early that morning, Zhang Li returned to the bookstore and searched for the magazine.

The clerk smiled and asked, “I didn’t expect a comrade like you to be so fond of literature.”

It seemed there was room for conversation! After all, working in a bookstore, he considered himself to read more books than eighty percent of the students in Beiping.

Maybe they could chat about history and modern times — about Márquez’s magical realism or Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus.

Zhang Li took the magazine and flipped to the first page, where she saw the author’s name boldly printed: Li Yousi.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

Though she had heard Li Yousi mention his pen name early on, seeing his name there felt as amusing as if a close friend suddenly appeared on stage to give a speech.

“Ah? No, it’s just that a friend of mine published a story in here, and I came to support him,” Zhang Li smiled and replied.

“Oh?” The clerk seemed a bit melancholic, but perhaps her friend was a female comrade?

“Which story?”

Zhang Li pointed to the first one: “This one.”

The clerk looked at “Falling Leaves Returning to Their Roots.” He was surprised too. In the past few days selling books, many customers had praised that story.

Almost everyone bought the magazine just for that story.

The clerk, who also enjoyed the story, asked, “You know him? This writer is impressive! A writer friend of mine said he has great potential.”

Zhang Li nodded repeatedly. “I know he’s talented. This is his first time writing a novel! By the way, is this the bestseller you mentioned yesterday?”

“...”

The clerk was silent for a moment, then continued, “Yes, it’s this one. Comrade, I guess you’re from the guesthouse? Is this writer from the TV station too?”

Zhang Li said, “No, he’s in the art troupe, just like me.”

The clerk felt a bit disappointed. “Art troupe, so he’s a soldier-writer?”

Zhang Li went on, “Yes, Comrade Li can play the flute, sing, and has all kinds of talents. He calls himself a jack of all trades! But back then, I didn’t know he was so good at writing novels. I even teased him!”

“Now look! He really is a jack of all trades!”

“...”

The clerk watched her happily introduce Li Yousi, inwardly thinking:

Am I human? Am I really human?

How can you talk about someone like that in front of me—and be so happy about it?

“Haha! Is he your boyfriend?”

That phrase came from Hong Kong, and in big cities like Shanghai and Beiping, it had started to gain some traction. Last year, the novel The Life, featuring the ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ relationship between Gao Jialin and Huang Yaping, popularized it thoroughly.

“No,” Zhang Li blushed and ran off after paying.

“Is the book three mao?”

The clerk was left shivering alone in the wind...

In his heart, he continued complaining: These awful writers, they only know how to fool innocent girls like her! She looks barely fifteen or sixteen! How could they be so heartless?

~

Back in her room, Zhang Li immediately opened the magazine and began reading.

After finishing the story, she was deeply moved, especially the moment when Old Wang returned home, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Without delay, she wrote a letter to Li Yousi, expressing her joy and admiration.

—