Chapter 49: The Cultural Department of the General Political Department

Seeing that the two of them were getting bored, Li Yousi brought out two stacks of letters and said, "Since you two comrades have nothing to do right now, why don't you help me read through these and let me know if you spot anything interesting or problematic!"

He Dehua found this quite amusing.

Reading letters from different people brought varied feelings, much like watching a series of short stories. Every person's story was always different.

Chen Xiaotao also picked up a stack and began reading.

After a little while, He Dehua stood up in considerable excitement and shared the reader's letter he had just read with Li Yousi: "Was this written by a child?"

"A child? A child reading *Beijing Literature* magazine?" Chen Xiaotao's interest was piqued as well.

All three of them looked at the letter, which read:

"Older Brother Li Yousi, hello. I am a junior high school student from Donghai, Jiangsu. My name is Xu Ze-cheng!"

Junior high school meant at most fourteen or fifteen years old, which indeed made him just a little kid in the eyes of Chen Xiaotao and He Dehua.

Li Yousi instantly grew much more interested.

Xu Ze-cheng had loved reading since he was little. Writers always loved reading when they were young, and Li Yousi would also claim in the future that he had loved reading.

"Sometimes, I feel that the novels in the magazine are very tedious and boring, but your novel changed my perspective! Every single episodic story in *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* is interesting!"

"If I had to compare it to anything, it's like the illustrated storybook *The Count of Monte Cristo* that I read last time. I particularly love the diverse characters you write. I imagine that if one weren't a great writer, it would be impossible to portray these characters with such fullness."

"Finally, after hearing about your deeds, I suddenly developed a dream: I want to apply for the Chinese Department at Peking University! If that fails, then Wuhan University's Chinese Department!"

~

The butterfly effect?

Li Yousi stroked his chin. Xu Ze-cheng was a post-1975 writer, considered quite ahead of his generation. He would go on to win the tenth Mao Dun Literature Prize, though right now he was just a little brat.

"This kid is interesting. You can tell from the letter that his grades aren't bad," He Dehua remarked.

Chen Xiaotao nodded: "He even said he wants to write novels in the future. Perhaps the literary scene will welcome a new rising star in the years to come?"

Li Yousi said decisively: "He definitely has some talent."

He Dehua looked over and said, "Judging from the perspective and clear logic of the letter, he is indeed a talent! What do you think?"

Li Yousi slowly replied, "I'm going on intuition!"

Chen Xiaotao let out a laugh: "Ha! You're the writer; that's something the two of us can't quite see."

This second letter was one Li Yousi proactively took note of. In the future, he might even become the boy's guide; anyway, it was only natural for seniors in the literary world to look after juniors.

For the rest of the afternoon, they spent their time unsealing and reading letters.

Among the more than three hundred letters, there were a total of over one hundred yuan in reader tips.

Aside from the Beijinger from earlier, the subsequent contributors gave one or two yuan each, all of which Li Yousi accepted without hesitation. In this era, both the royalty system and the remuneration mechanisms for manuscripts were insufficiently developed, so even top-tier authors could hardly be called wealthy.

Most authors wrote part-time. Unless they had a job at the Writers' Association or the Federation of Literary and Art Circles, very few worked full-time.

Reader tips sent via letters truly acted like a lifeline for many authors.

Li Yousi was also hard up for money.

Selecting a few letters that were suitable for replies, Li Yousi hunched over the desk and began writing, planning to mail them out in a few days. After all, as an author, not replying to a single one would seem far too arrogant.

...

The next morning, Li Yousi mailed out more than ten letters, which cost him quite a bit of money.

——

Before the military reforms, local cultural troupes belonged to the political departments of local military regions, and local political departments naturally belonged to the General Political Department of the People's Liberation Army.

Mid-March. Gulou Street, Dongcheng District, Beijing, the General Political and Cultural Department.

Up and down the office, people were bustling about in an orderly fashion.

Wang Chuanhong was reading a book in his office when suddenly everyone in the room quieted down, gazing toward the doorway: "Chief!"

Wang Chuanhong immediately looked toward the door.

It wasn't really a surprise to see an old chief in the General Political and Cultural Department, though he wondered which old chief it was—upon seeing that the visitor was a middle-aged man, Wang Chuanhong felt a faint sense of recognition.

"Sorry to disturb you, Section Chief Wang!"

The visitor extended his hand and smiled slightly at Wang Chuanhong.

Wang Chuanhong was momentarily stunned, then quickly returned the gesture: "Chief, please come in, take a seat!"

Though the man before him did not hold an exceptionally high rank, his background was massive. Wang Chuanhong happened to know that his father worked at the very top level of the Political Department!

While exchanging polite pleasantries, Wang Chuanhong pondered the visitor's purpose. Aside from the fact that he was an "employee" under the broader umbrella, they seemed to have no personal ties.

The chief sat down and exchanged a few casual words with Wang Chuanhong. Wang Chuanhong was a military writer; most of the novels he wrote leaned toward the red classics—stories propagating positive energy, such as those about the Chinese People's Volunteers and the Red Army.

The chief glanced at the manuscript on the desk and directly stated, "I heard that over at the Battle Flag Cultural Troupe, there's a novel they couldn't make a decision on, so they mailed it here to you?"

Wang Chuanhong instantly understood. The man before him and his father behind him were both from Sichuan! Furthermore, that "respected father" was an old Red Army veteran who had rendered extraordinary military service in the past.

"Yes, yes, yes. That novel is called *My Chief, My Regiment*! The author Li Yousi is quite a prominent figure nowadays, and he's also a writer from your Sichuan Battle Flag Troupe!"

The man nodded: "I've heard of him, and I've read his novel too. That story *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* is wonderfully written. After returning home, my younger sister and I read the novel aloud to our father, and father said the novel was written with truth and interest, and even praised him for truly being one of our own from Sichuan!"

"Mm-hmm," Wang Chuanhong nodded, suddenly unsure whether he should bring up the issues with the novel...

The man continued, "I heard from a soldier in your Cultural Department that this novel won't do?"

Unable to gauge the man's true intentions, Wang Chuanhong had no choice but to speak the truth: "This novel mainly depicts the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression. Although it writes about the Nationalist forces, the character portrayals are not very pleasant, which doesn't quite align with the heroic imagery used to promote the War of Resistance."

"I discussed this novel with Hou Chun (the Deputy Section Chief of the Cultural Department). From various aspects, it is an outstanding work. However, over the past month, held back by the issue of character depiction, we didn't dare publish it, so it's just been shelved like this!"

"Last time, another chief came to the Cultural Department and also read this novel, and criticized it, so we simply decided to leave it aside."

The man chuckled: "Heh! Character imagery? Rigid! This isn't the era of the model plays anymore; why do people writing novels always obsess over these trivial things? I heard this novel was written to praise the resurgence of our Sichuan Army Corps?"

Wang Chuanhong replied, "The novel indeed praises the brave and fearless spirit of all soldiers fighting the Japanese aggression."

"I came here today for no other reason than hearing that this novel has been piled up continuously. I want to see for myself exactly why it's being suppressed. Let me see the manuscript." The chief stood up.

"Oh, let me find the manuscript and hand it directly to you!"

Wang Chuanhong very efficiently pulled the original manuscript of the novel right out from his desk.