Chapter 42: This Novel Can't Be Kept Down Without a Cigarette

"Xiao Li, why did you bring gifts?"

Li Yousi handed over the silk scarf, and Mother Zhang smiled as she took it.

"This is for Uncle!"

Father Zhang looked a bit surprised. "I have a share too?"

The last one was for Zhang Yu. The family accepted the items with happy smiles, and Mother Zhang smiled gently. "Xiao Li is so thoughtful."

"It's only right! It must be seven-thirty by now! It's all my fault that everyone hasn't eaten yet~" Surrounded by the family, Li Yousi was ushered to the table to take a seat.

Mother Zhang smiled. "What are you saying? Wasn't Xiao Li in the song and dance troupe before? We always eat around this time every Chinese New Year."

"We're used to it, it's no trouble at all. It's just that you went to all this trouble and spent so much money."

Friendship vanishing cream, Wenshili silk scarf, Peony brand cigarettes—altogether they cost more than fifty yuan, which was about a month's salary for Li Yousi. After receiving the gifts, Mother Zhang's suspicions about the two of them deepened even further.

However, she felt all the more satisfied with Li Yousi, since there was simply nothing to find fault with. Yet, there was still an unpunctuated layer of paper between the two young people; since the children hadn't broken it open yet, she didn't want to spell it out proactively either.

Zhang Li and Li Yousi sat next to each other.

On the table were a cured meat platter, camphor tea duck, salted braised pork, braised pig's elbow, steamed pork with rice flour, stuffed bowls, and a relatively mild sparerib soup. This year's New Year's Eve dinner was extremely lavish. After all, Zhang Li's family consisted of two government cadres, so it was by no means ordinary.

Li Yousi took a bite of the steamed pork with rice flour. The pork belly mixed with rice flour melted in his mouth; it wasn't harsh at all, but rather wonderfully dense. "Auntie's cooking is truly delicious!"

"If you like it, eat more." Mother Zhang gave a subtle glance, and Zhang Li had no choice but to pick up another piece of sparerib for Li Yousi.

"Eat this."

In Zhang Li's house, a radio was broadcasting this year's Spring Festival Gala...

This year marked the second Spring Festival Gala. Last year's inaugural live broadcast featured telephone call-ins, a feature that was happily continued this year.

Hong Kong singer Zhang Mingmin performed My Chinese Heart and Walking on the Dike, and a singer from Taiwan performed The Grand View Garden of Grandmama—or rather, Fishermen's Song of Penghu Bay, marking the first cultural exchange between Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the mainland.

Chen Peisi and Zhu Shimao performed the sketch Eating Noodles, pioneering the sketch comedy genre of the Spring Festival Gala with exaggerated comedic techniques. Chen Peisi was the first-generation titan of comedy sketches, and his countless performances were utterly classic, while the second generation would be Zhao Benshan...

After the meal, seizing the moment before he left, Mother Zhang and Father Zhang slipped a red envelope into Li Yousi's pocket.

"Thank you, Uncle and Auntie."

Then, he rode his Phoenix bicycle back to his room.

---

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, Zhang Li's family went out to pay New Year visits. Zhang Li, however, kept holding the manuscript and reading it, engaging in a frenzy of reading all day long—from then on, she would be his very first reader.

On the second day, after finishing the third volume, Zhang Li took the manuscript to the song and dance troupe and handed it to Li Yousi.

"What are you feeling?" Li Yousi asked, taking the novel.

"It's written very well, but it's far too sorrowful." Zhang Li sighed. "Whenever I finish reading Dream of the Red Chamber, I feel a deep sorrow."

"Just like what Elder Zhou said, you all belong to the same type of tragedy—the tragedy of an era! It's completely normal to have casualties in the War of Resistance!"

"And your satire is exceptionally well-written. To use an old saying, you've stripped the Kuomintang down to their underwear!!"

"Mm." Li Yousi looked at Zhang Li with great admiration; this girl's appreciation skills had indeed improved quite a bit recently. "Well said. Who do you think this old scholar is?"

"Zhou Ruchang!" Zhang Li said with absolute confidence. "Have you heard of him?"

"I have, a master in the field of Redology!" When the television adaptation of Dream of the Red Chamber was being filmed, it shook up quite a few Redology masters, some of whom even joined the crew directly as consultants. Zhou Ruchang was too old to travel with the crew and had some health issues, but he did give quite a few lectures to the production team.

After finishing this conversation with Zhang Li, Li Yousi took the manuscript and headed to the literary workshop.

He knocked on the door and walked inside.

"Director Wang!" Li Yousi slowly slid the manuscript forward. "It's finished."

Wang Hai roughly flipped through the first couple of pages. Thirty thousand words! Even with Zhang Li reading day and night without stopping, it took her three days; Wang Hai would need at least a full day to review it.

Holding the novel, he looked somewhat stunned. "...You really wrote thirty thousand words?"

"I didn't count it precisely. I originally planned to write fifty thousand, but later I streamlined it a bit, and it came out to thirty thousand," Li Yousi said.

Vernacular Chinese novels had only started taking off in the 1920s of this century, and the literary tradition had been broken for over a decade in the middle. In the few years since its revival, medium and short stories had been the most sought-after.

"After I finish reading it, if I can't make up my mind, I'll ask the leadership for instructions. Anyway, I'll give you some feedback tomorrow." Wang Hai roughly scanned Li Yousi's novel.

This novel was not entirely a eulogy of positive images, and it differed somewhat from the mainstream military fiction of the present day. Clearly, Wang Hai didn't have absolute confidence in it either.

Li Yousi nodded. "Thank you, Director."

~

After he left, Wang Hai finally opened the manuscript and began to read. The first thing that met his eyes was the title of the novel: My Commander and My Regiment.

---

This novel was adapted by Li Yousi from the television series of the same name. It could be said to be the best anti-Japanese war drama produced in recent decades—a deeply realistic and satirical television series.

However, precisely because it was too realistic, many people did not dare to watch it a second time. When Li Yousi was writing it, his heart felt extremely heavy.

It was certainly impossible for Li Yousi to have written it purely from memory; thanks to the materials provided by Wang Hai, he was able to flesh out and refine this novel based on plot points and historical records.

Opening the first volume, Wang Hai soon came across the scene where the protagonists ate pork and napa cabbage stewed with vermicelli. It reminded him of the time a few days ago when several of them shared hot pot noodles—true enough, art comes from life. It must have been that experience that gave Li Yousi the inspiration.

However, Wang Hai couldn't smile at all; his brows remained deeply furrowed!

"..." He struck a match and lit a Daqianmen cigarette!

"Puff! Puff!"

Even after smoking a pack like that, his heart still felt unsettled!

Wang Hai took a deep breath and thought to himself, "When you were telling me the story before, it didn't feel like this scene at all!"

Wang Hai had been to the front lines. Back when they fought the monkeys, he had gone along with the comfort delegations, so the more realistic a novel like this was, the more it felt as though someone was gripping his heart in a painful squeeze!

He called out, "Jianjun, go get me a pack of cigarettes."

There were no smoking bans in the military; everyone in their unit could smoke a couple of puffs, and someone like Li Yousi, who didn't smoke at all, was a rare exception.

"What kind do you want, Director?"

"Bring back two packs of Daqianmen."

Soon, Zhang Jianjun returned with two packs of Daqianmen, and Wang Hai handed the money back to him.

Wang Hai lit another cigarette; without the comfort of tobacco fire to suppress it, he felt he couldn't bear to keep reading...

Half a day passed, and the office became shrouded in a hazy cloud of smoke, as if special effects were being applied.

---

Studying for exams now, managed to rush out two chapters after finishing an exam, will post on time tomorrow.