Chapter 6: Submission

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As soon as Li Yousi arrived at the camp, he heard the soldiers inside shouting training slogans. The 1980s marked the era when individual soldiers were at their strongest. Moreover, this period was untouched by decadence; many members of the performing arts troupe often sought out soldiers.

Zhu Chunsheng stood at the front of the instrumental troupe and called out, “Instrumental team, form four columns—assemble!”

At his shout, the members of the instrumental team immediately disembarked from the vehicles, tidied up their military uniforms, and fell into formation. Zhu Chunsheng cleared his throat and announced, “Our performance today is traditional folk music! The first piece will last one hour!”

“We start promptly at six o’clock. Make sure to prepare well backstage and don’t disgrace the reputation of the performing arts troupe!”

Compared to actual soldiers, the troupe members enjoyed far better treatment, so their discipline was noticeably more relaxed and informal.

“Understood!” they responded in unison.

“March forward!”

Zhu Chunsheng counted the members; everyone was present before he led the way.

They arrived behind the camp’s auditorium.

Li Yousi tuned his suona—a traditional Chinese wind instrument. There were only two original instruments; as long as they sounded, that was enough.

“Doo doo doo,” he blew a couple of notes; the suona responded clearly.

“Teacher Zhu, do we get the night off after this?” Li Yousi asked after finishing tuning.

Zhu Chunsheng glanced back and asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Going out to eat something nice…”

Zhu Chunsheng sighed helplessly, thinking how pitiful the boy was—an orphan. “You can, just be back in the dorm before nine.”

“Thank you, teacher.”

Glancing at the time, Zhu Chunsheng stood and said, “Comrades, march! The performance is starting.”

Li Yousi and the troupe marched onto the bright red stage.

The camp’s auditorium was old, with a few lights illuminating the performance area; the seating behind was dark and roofless.

Standing on the stage, they saw the soldiers seated in neat rows, dressed in Type 65 uniforms, disciplined and serious—a stark contrast to the more casual troupe.

The soldiers waited for Li Yousi and the others to begin.

Below, the troops were still competing in a singing contest, their voices hoarse from shouting, shouting passionately:

“Comrades of the Third Company, how’s our singing?”

“Good!”

“Wonderful?”

“Wonderful!”

“Want another one?”

“Yes!”

“Then here we go... I am a soldier, born of the common people, defeating the Japanese invaders, eradicating the traitorous Kuomintang forces. I am a soldier...”

They sang with fervor.

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After the soldiers finished their spirited songs, the host continued, “Just now, all the soldiers demonstrated the iron will and heartfelt devotion of our military with their impassioned singing. Let us once again offer them our most sincere applause!

Next, with great anticipation, we warmly welcome the Battle Flag Performing Arts Troupe to present a carefully prepared folk music performance.”

“Oh!”

The Battle Flag instrumental team took the stage.

A thunderous roar erupted from the crowd—hands raised high, applause crashing like waves.

After the soldiers’ performance ended, Zhu Chunsheng raised his conductor’s baton and began.

They played four pieces: “Jasmine Flower,” “Joyful and Prosperous,” “The Red Star Lights My Way to Battle,” and “Defend the Yellow River.”

The hour passed quickly.

When the performance concluded, another wave of enthusiastic applause followed. The troupe’s shows were precious moments of leisure for the soldiers.

Even though Li Yousi often liked to loaf around, he was quite earnest during performances.

After the show, the troupe members could hardly contain their excitement; some couldn’t help but wander around, exploring.

The troupe members were not only good-looking but talented, naturally making them popular.

Once the dance and acting groups finished their programs, it was eight o’clock. Everyone gathered and returned to the troupe.

After disembarking, Li Yousi carried his manuscript to the troupe’s propaganda office.

The propaganda office was located in a quadrangle courtyard and actively encouraged the troupe’s educated members to submit works to literary magazines.

However, all submissions underwent strict confidentiality reviews and political vetting before approval for mailing.

Behind the scenes, military writers enjoyed certain privileges—Mo Yan had once been such a military writer.

Li Yousi knocked on the door. “Comrade, are you in?”

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The propaganda officer, sporting a short crew cut, replied, “Yes, comrade, are you here to submit something?”

Li Yousi handed over his manuscript. “I’m Li Yousi from the instrumental team. I want to submit my novel to ‘Beiping Literature.’”

In the future, the top three literary magazines in the country would be “People’s Literature,” “Harvest,” and “October.” But at this time, “Beiping Literature” was nearly as prestigious.

Li Yousi preferred “October,” which favored long-form works.

“Harvest” was based in Luzhou, but Li Yousi planned to write in Beiping.

“People’s Literature” seemed a bit too lofty for now; getting his first piece published was an achievement.

In the end, “Beiping Literature” seemed the most suitable.

“‘Beiping Literature’? Comrade, is your novel military-themed?” asked the officer.

Li Yousi quickly shook his head. “No, this story is something I imagined after hearing my teacher’s tales. You can take a look first! It should be classified as regional literature.”

He had adapted a classic domestic work, which he considered regional literature, though other categories were uncertain.

The officer opened the manuscript and saw it spanned dozens of pages. Judging by the length, he felt it was unlikely to be accepted easily and couldn’t continue reading.

He sighed and said, “Comrade Li, this is quite lengthy. We won’t be able to give you an answer today.”

“Come back in two days. We’re reviewing it now. Once approved, we’ll send it to ‘Beiping Literature’ for submission.”

Li Yousi nodded repeatedly. “Thank you, comrade.”

“No problem, comrade!”

After submitting his manuscript, Li Yousi rushed outside the troupe. Performances rarely allowed time for outings.

He found a nearby state-run restaurant.

Eating well alone meant the whole family didn’t go hungry—a saying perfectly fitting Li Yousi.

Soon, he found the menu and began ordering: “One braised pork, spicy stir-fried pork…”

After paying with his ration coupons, Li Yousi sat quietly, waiting.

When the food arrived, he took a bite of the braised pork, followed by the spicy pork, then sipped the chicken stew with mushrooms—tears welled in his eyes.

His salary was thirty yuan, and the canteen provided all meals daily; only now and then could he afford such a feast.