Chapter 29: A Bustling Magazine Office

"So, since you're going to Beijing, aren't you going to look around? You might actually run into these writers! I've heard that Liu Xinwu, Wang Zengqi, and Wang Meng are all in Beijing..."

After saying this, Haiyan added excitedly, "Our little sister Xiaoxu has such a refined air. Who knows? You might even find a writer to be your boyfriend! Oh, wait... no need to look, your Brother Yanjun is handsome enough as it is..."

Chen Xiaoxu blushed and scolded, "I'll tear that mouth of yours apart..."

With that, she jumped up and began to playfully scuffle with Haiyan. She set aside the magazine and reached out to pinch her cheeks.

After a while of playful fighting, Chen Xiaoxu grew tired and sat back down, and Haiyan followed suit.

"We're just mere actors; how could we compare to these writers? They wouldn't even look twice at us." Chen Xiaoxu saw things clearly.

In this day and age, young literary women are often infatuated with the glamorous exteriors of writers—or rather, the air of sophistication they feign. Anyone who can write poetry or submit manuscripts can easily attract a fair share of admirers.

"But what about a star like Gong Xue?"

"That, of course, is a different story!"

"You might just become an actress as famous as her!" Haiyan suggested.

In this era, performing in stage plays is considered more respectable than acting in films. Although both are arts workers, film actors are often viewed with a hint of the old "thespian" stigma. If one had the choice, one would certainly choose the People's Art Theater over the Beijing Film Studio. However, for the most famous actors, the rules were naturally a bit different.

***

Back inside the offices of *Beijing Literature* magazine.

Over a week had passed, and while the sales of *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* had only reached 50,000 copies, something good had happened: the distribution center called.

Bookstores primarily source their stock from the distribution center, which in turn coordinates with the publishers. Usually, their first print run is 100,000 copies, with roughly two additional printings per issue, totaling around 300,000 copies—a standard sales figure for their monthly issues.

"Xidan North Street, Qianmen Street, Wangfujing... the bookstores there have all called to urge us for more. They say customers are lining up at the doors to buy the book! Even though there's still some stock left, it probably won't last a few more days..."

In short, the novella *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* had become a hit.

Chen Hongjun, who had taken the call, turned to inform the magazine's editors. He smiled at Zhou Yanru and said, "It's only been a week, and the distribution center is already calling for a reprint! I remember only *The Initiation* had this kind of situation in the last two years."

*The Initiation* was a trailblazer that had single-handedly shifted the national trend, sparking intense debate in both literary circles and among the general public. As a result, it had long held the sales record for *Beijing Literature*.

Zhang Deling chimed in with a smile, " *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* shares something in common with *The Initiation* and *Life*: it is rich in philosophy without lacking popular appeal."

For a magazine to sell well, it needs to feature accessible fiction, but a literary journal must maintain its "depth"—it cannot publish anything too pedestrian. One needs to balance both attributes to achieve great sales. *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* had, intentionally or not, met both criteria.

The only drawback was the author's lack of fame! But that wasn't a problem—before Wang Zengqi and Lu Yao became famous, no one knew who they were either.

Chen Hongjun continued, "It seems my decision to pull my own story was the right one! If it had been my piece, it probably wouldn't have achieved these results."

Zhang Deling nodded. "It was Elder Zhou's sharp eye for talent that spotted the potential of this story right away!"

Zhou Yanru smiled, "The magazine is everyone's hard work. Since it's a success, the credit belongs to everyone!"

As a veteran, Zhou Yanru didn't care much about hogging the credit for this discovery. Since *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* was about to take off, it was a good time to boost everyone's morale.

Just as they were discussing this, a man in his thirties walked in. He sauntered into the office, and even though he wasn't an editor, he was no stranger to them.

"Everyone here? I heard you discussing the story that just came out?"

"Comrade Li Tuo!" Zhou Yanru greeted him with a smile.

Li Tuo looked at Zhou Yanru with a grin. "Old comrade, you're quite lucky. I heard you were about to retire, and then you suddenly pull out such a masterpiece!"

In the memoirs of later writers, Li Tuo is considered a fairly prominent figure in the Beijing literary circle. The biggest reason for this was his fluent, authentic old Beijing dialect; he was on good terms with everyone.

Most writers in Beijing had some connection to him—friends like the then-unknown A Cheng, the already famous Chen Jiangong, and others like the lesser-known Zheng Wanlong. Perhaps because he came from the gritty, common surroundings of a factory, there was a certain "underworld" charisma to him.

But you couldn't call him a slouch; he had won the National Excellent Short Story Award and was currently a resident writer at the Beijing Writers Association, which kept him closely tied to *Beijing Literature*.

"I just got lucky with this manuscript; I fished it out of the submissions pile," Zhou Yanru said with a smile.

"Comrade Li, did you come over just to talk about this? I thought you were bringing us a submission!" Editor-in-Chief Li walked out of his office and asked.

"Oh, come on, Old Li! Speaking of submissions, I do have a piece for you! But I have to ask about something first."

Li Tuo scratched the back of his head and continued, "I finished writing my novel last night, and I picked up your latest issue to enjoy... and I just happened to stumble upon this story by Comrade Li Yousi!"

"You really have to admit, it's interesting—really interesting. I never imagined a writer would tackle a story about a 'soul returning to its roots'!"

"After finishing it, my heart felt itchy. Do you know that feeling of 'falling leaves returning to their roots'? It was just scratching at my soul!"

Zhou Yanru shook her head helplessly, took a sip of tea, and cut to the point: "You said all that just because you want to talk to him??"

"Elder Zhou, you really do understand me." Li Tuo nodded.

Many writers in the literary world simply follow their gut. Li Tuo said, "I just felt that after reading this story, I knew this guy must have a good heart! Just like what was written in the story—the man is truly benevolent!! I want to make friends with him."

Zhou Yanru recalled the gentle young man who always wore a smile and replied, "You guessed right. He is indeed a good kid."

"However."

"However what?" Li Tuo asked.

Zhou Yanru said, "The kid has returned to Jincheng. He's a soldier in the Art Troupe, not a full-time writer, and certainly not from Beijing."

"An Art Troupe soldier? Then it's probably hard to meet up," Li Tuo nodded.

Before he could ask any more questions, a mature voice sounded from the doorway:

"Why is it so lively in here today?"