1978: Female educated youth, don’t want an illiterate husband

An Shaokang stood at the door carrying a bulging net bag containing two cans of malted milk powder, a bag of steamed rice cakes, and a bottle of liquor labeled "Special Supply Moutai".

Before leaving home, he specially wore a brand-new blue Zhongshan suit, with a fountain pen clipped to his cuff. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his nose, his eyes behind the lenses gleaming with self-satisfaction.

"Hello, Uncle and Aunt!" He handed the net bag through the door, his smile deliberately familiar, and continued to greet them, saying, "I should have come to visit earlier, but I had to attend the National Congress of Literary and Art Workers. I just arrived in Yanjing and settled in, so I thought I'd come and visit you first."

Grandpa Tianxian didn't take the net; he just stared at him coldly, suppressing his anger, and asked contemptuously, "The Literary and Art Congress? You, a teacher at a local university, can participate?"

An Shaokang's smile widened, and he said proudly, "Uncle, you don't know, this literary and art congress is paying special attention to the power of young people!"
Because I published several articles on literary criticism in the newspaper, which received a very good response, I was recommended by the propaganda department of our region.

I shook hands with the leaders of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles yesterday, and they said I'm "sharp-tongued and outspoken!"

He walked into the house on his own, and when he saw Liu Xiaoli there, he asked in surprise, "Lili, when did you come back? Didn't you say in your letter that you were going to shoot on location in another place?"
"That's perfect, I was just about to tell you that during this trip to Beijing, I met quite a few leaders from the Beijing Film Studio. Once I get to know them better, I'll talk about your transfer..."

"No need," Liu Xiaoli interrupted him, her voice as cold as ice. "I don't need Teacher An to worry about my affairs."

"Also, there is no relationship between us. Don't be so frivolous. You shouldn't call me 'Lily.' Please call me by my full name, Comrade Liu Xiaoli!"

An Shaokang was taken aback, seemingly not expecting her to react this way; he had come specifically to visit his parents.

Furthermore, back in Jiangcheng, although this woman was aloof and always indifferent to him, she had never been this cold before.

Grandma Tianxian shoved the net bag into his arms and said in a stiff tone, "Yes! Our Lily is not good enough for a professor like you. Take the things away, we can't accept this."

"What's wrong, Auntie?" An Shaokang asked, holding up the net, his smugness fading slightly. "Did I do something wrong?"

He turned his gaze to Liu Xiaoli, trying to force a gentle tone, and said, "Lili, I know you're still worried about the transfer. Actually, you don't need to rush. With my connections..."

"Your connections?" Grandpa Tianxian suddenly sneered, grabbed the Jiangcheng Evening News from the table and slammed it in front of him. The headline on the front page, "Beware of the Corruption of Popular Literature," was prominently displayed, and the author was none other than "An Shaokang." "You built your connections by writing these bullshit articles?"

This is what my daughter just brought home. My grandfather, who is also a genius, just finished reading it. It's truly a well-written and critical article.

An Shaokang's face flushed instantly, as if someone had touched a sore spot, or as if he felt insulted. He tried his best to defend himself, saying:

"Uncle, you might have misunderstood!? This is proper literary criticism!"

"Some writers nowadays abandon serious literature and instead write for cheap magazines like 'Story Club,' which is simply self-degradation!"

I criticize them in order to purify the literary atmosphere!

"Purify the atmosphere?" Liu Xiaoli suddenly stood up, the chair legs scraping loudly on the cement floor. She demanded sharply, "You definitely did it on purpose! You definitely knew he was Teacher Cheng, that's why you deliberately criticized him like that! You definitely knew, you definitely did it on purpose!?"

An Shaokang pushed up his glasses, looking completely self-righteous, and said, "Of course I know! I wrote about him!"
A writer hailed by newspapers as a "pioneer of reform and opening up" actually wrote feudal dross like historical fiction, published it anonymously, and refused to admit it. What is he if not a scoundrel?

He became more and more excited as he spoke, spittle splattering onto the sugar packets on the table, and continued:

“I’m telling you, Lily, don’t be fooled by his articles! A person like him doesn’t deserve to be a writer, much less mentor young people! Stay away from him in the future, lest you be led astray!”

"Snapped!"

A crisp slap echoed through the room.

Suddenly, Grandma Tianxian grabbed a feather duster from behind the door and banged it hard on the door.

Although it didn't actually hit him, it startled An Shaokang so much that he took a step back, his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.

"You said you did it on purpose, right? You're admitting it, aren't you?" Grandma Tianxian trembled with anger, pointing the duster at his nose and questioning, "You admit you knew that was Teacher Cheng, that Teacher Cheng was the one from Yanying Film Studio who was the influential person who wanted to help my Lili transfer back to Yanjing!"
So, to prevent my Lily from returning to Yanjing, you wrote an article to criticize him just to show off. You're trying to completely cut off Lily's path back to the city! What the hell are you up to?!

An Shaokang opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

He adjusted his glasses, staring blankly at Liu Xiaoli, then at her parents. The smugness and anger on his face slowly faded, replaced by an incredulous astonishment.

"Cheng... Cheng Xuemin is... is he the teacher at Yanying Film Studio that you mentioned in your letter, the one who offered to help you transfer back to Yanjing?"

"Lily, you didn't tell me this before! And isn't Cheng Xuemin studying at Yenching University? How did he become a teacher at Yenching Film Studio?"

An Shaokang's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded. The net bag in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud," and the malted milk powder can rolled out and spun around on the ground several times.

No one answered him.

The only sounds in the living room were Grandma Tianxian's panting and the occasional ringing of bicycle bells outside the window.

Liu Xiaoli had her back to him, her shoulders trembling slightly. In her heart, she did not explicitly say that it was Teacher Cheng, the pioneer of reform and opening up, who had personally promised her. She only mentioned that the teachers at Yanying Film Studio thought highly of her and wanted to transfer her back to Yanjing to work at Yanying Film Studio.

But now that things have come to this, An Shaokang admits that he knows he did it on purpose, so what else is there to say?

Grandpa Tianxian sat in the rattan chair, the veins on the back of his hand throbbing. He really wanted to beat this brat to death on the spot. How thick-skinned was he?

They clearly ruined their daughter's trip back to Yanjing, yet they still dared to come to their door so arrogantly and smugly.

Now you're even worse, still putting on an innocent expression. You know you did it on purpose, you just admitted it yourself, so what are you pretending for?

An Shaokang's mind was buzzing as if it had been hit by a heavy hammer.

He recalled the high spirits he had when he wrote those articles. Professor Li Mo'an, the former director of Jiangcheng University, patted him on the shoulder and encouraged him, saying, "Xiao An, this is a good topic. If you can criticize Cheng Xuemin, you will be able to gain a foothold in the literary world!"

The newspaper's editor-in-chief put his article on the front page, saying, "This is the most significant critical article in our newspaper this year."
Even his female colleagues, who usually didn't pay much attention to him, looked at him with new respect and said, "Teacher An is really brave."

He proudly sent the newspaper clippings to Liu Xiaoli, wanting her to see his "achievements," but never asked her what she thought of Cheng Xuemin.

He even wrote in a letter that "a writer like Cheng Xuemin is completely unqualified to guide young people."

Looking back now, those words felt like slaps to my face.

He recalled Liu Xiaoli mentioning the "teachers at Yanying Film Studio," how those teachers taught her to observe life, and how they would say "It's okay, come again next time" when she messed up a performance.

He recalled that in the photos she sent, there was a man in a Zhongshan suit in the background. He had asked, "Who is this?" Liu Xiaoli said, "He is a director from Yan Film Studio, guiding them in rehearsing."

……

With so many clues, he failed to grasp a single one.

Like a clown, he relentlessly attacked the "literary scoundrel" who turned out to be the mentor of the girl he had been pursuing, the one who could decide her future.

“I…I don’t know…” An Shaokang’s face was as white as paper, his lips trembling, “I really didn’t know he was your teacher…I thought…I thought he was just a…”

"What is it?" Grandpa Tianxian interrupted him coldly, "It's just a stepping stone for you to climb to the top."

"An Shaokang, let me tell you, although our family is ordinary, we're not so poor that we'd let our daughter cling to a treacherous scoundrel like you just to go back to the city!" An Shaokang suddenly seemed to remember something and grabbed Liu Xiaoli's arm: "Lili, let me explain, I didn't mean it!"

I'll write an article to apologize right now, I'll explain to Teacher Cheng, I'll talk to the leaders of Yan Film Studio..."

"It's too late!" Liu Xiaoli shook off his hand, her voice trembling with tears. "Teacher Cheng is being pointed at and gossiped about at the factory because of your article."

My transfer order fell through, and now, with just a simple "I don't know," you've erased it all.

Her tears finally fell, soaking her clothes as she cursed:

"You criticize Teacher Cheng for writing popular novels, saying they are vulgar, but do you know what that means?"

Teacher Cheng saved up all his royalties and turned them all over to pawnshops! Moreover, Teacher Cheng also helped many poor people in his hometown!
"You have no idea how many letters from readers Professor Cheng has. They are all thank-you letters sent by readers who have received financial assistance from Professor Cheng!"

"You don't know how many people the degenerate literary scoundrel you denounced in the newspaper has silently helped behind the scenes."
You keep talking about purifying the literary world, but you don't even understand the most basic respect!

An Shaokang stood there blankly, still clutching the glasses that had slipped down his hand.

Looking at Liu Xiaoli's red eyes, at her parents' angry and disappointed faces, and at the rolling can of malted milk powder on the ground, he suddenly felt like a complete fool.

His so-called "sharpness" and "courage" became a joke at this moment.

The girl he pursued, the "abilities" he wanted to demonstrate, the "success" he craved—all were ruined by his own actions.

"I...I'm sorry..." An Shaokang's voice was so low it was almost inaudible. He picked up the net bag from the ground and moved towards the door like a lost soul. "I...I'll go first..."

No one stopped him.

The door slammed shut behind him, shutting out the warmth and awkwardness inside.

A gust of cold wind blew into his collar, and An Shaokang shivered.

He looked up at the dim streetlights in the alley and suddenly didn't know where to go. His delegate badge from the literary and art congress was still pinned to his chest; the red cover was particularly glaring in the night, like a huge irony.

"Not bad, Shaokang, your writing skills are already very solid! And you've hit the nail on the head!"

"It just so happens that the literary and art congress officially opens today. The leaders will definitely see this newspaper, and they will surely let you speak on stage!"

"Shaokang, don't back down then. If you're going up against that guy surnamed Cheng, go head-to-head with him and see who's better!"

Today marks the official opening of the Literary Congress, and also the day that An Shaokang and his team's counterattack article was published in the Literary Gazette.

Li Mo'an, the former director of Jiangcheng University, bought a newspaper early in the morning and read its contents.

Although it's not a front-page headline like the Jiangcheng Evening News, as long as it's published in a major national newspaper like the Literary Gazette, its influence won't be small.

At the very least, it will allow the people of Yanjing today to see the true face of that man surnamed Cheng.

They had just arrived in Beijing from Jiangcheng and only then realized how much less influential their Jiangcheng Evening News was in Yanjing.

It can be said that it has almost no influence.

Despite the huge commotion outside the country, Li Mo'an and his team were dumbfounded and frustrated, but there was absolutely no response from Beijing.

Li Mo'an immediately consulted with his superiors and learned that it had been deliberately suppressed.

So after almost a month of fermentation, the situation in Yanjing has become calm and peaceful.

Fortunately!

Their counterattack in Beijing has finally begun. Yesterday, he sent An Shaokang and the others to the Wenyi Bao newspaper to put pressure on them, and it worked.

It was just in time, published on the very day the literary and art congress opened; it was truly a stroke of luck for them.

"Shaokang, what's wrong with you? Teacher Li is talking to you."

"Why did you seem so listless when you came back last night? What did you do last night?"

Seeing that An Shaokang's complexion was not good and he had completely lost his enthusiasm from yesterday, his colleague next to him nudged him and asked with concern and doubt.

"Ah? Teacher Li, I...I...I know!" An Shaokang was indeed completely disoriented, having lost all his former fighting spirit.

Seeing that Teacher Li Mo'an was looking at him, he simply nodded repeatedly in response.

"okay!"

"Shaokang, this is a speech prepared for you in advance. A leader will arrange for you to speak on stage!"

"Just read from the script then!"

Li Mo'an didn't think much of it; everything was proceeding according to the 'reverse process' plan.

If we take down that guy surnamed Cheng, it means that the flag that has been raised will fall.

So their timing was perfect; they started taking action as early as when the Federation of Literary and Art Circles sent out the invitation to the Congress of Literary and Art Workers.

The first step was to start by making efforts from Jiangcheng University and from the inconspicuous place that is Jiangcheng Evening News.

The original plan was to provoke a counterattack from the Cheng family, so that they would respond in large numbers and launch a group attack.

After a month of heated verbal sparring, by the time of the literary and art congress, the situation would inevitably escalate to an uncontrollable point, and they could easily overthrow the man surnamed Cheng in one fell swoop.

But who knew!
That guy surnamed Cheng was so young, yet so mature, and he didn't utter a single word in response. It was like they were punching cotton, which was truly frustrating and infuriating.

Good thing!

Just before the opening of the literary and art congress, the man surnamed Cheng finally responded, which gave them an opportunity that was quite exciting and exhilarating.

"Okay, okay, Teacher Li, don't worry, Shaokang and I will definitely handle this well!"

Before An Shaokang could reply, his colleague pulled him close and nodded in agreement.

"Alright, alright! We'll wait for your triumphant return and throw you a celebration party!"

...(End of chapter)