Chapter 4 The Moon and 6 Pennies

Chapter 4 The Moon and 6 Pennies

Chapter 4 The Moon and Sixpence
Although the royalties were fictitious, the money was real, so his wife believed it. A few days later, she asked him how his novel was going. A week later, Wang Zixu suddenly felt that his life was getting better again as he entered middle age.

His wife no longer cared about how late he came home every day or how much living expenses he gave to his father-in-law. She became gentler, no longer cried for no reason, and no longer ordered him to do housework while he was reading. All these made him feel that he suddenly became very happy.

But he knew that such happiness was hard-won. If he could not continue to generate new royalties in a sustainable and continuous manner, he would soon face the same situation as before.

Given their family's financial situation, every expense had a name, and the 500 yuan was purely from their living expenses. It would be impossible to save another amount of money for the manuscript by thriftiness in the short term. He could only strive to get a real amount of money for the manuscript as soon as possible through a novel.

So he was particularly serious when he was writing the novel in the office. A colleague was watching him typing quietly for a long time behind him without noticing, and he was startled when he spoke.

"What did you write?" the colleague asked, holding a cup of tea. "You can write? I didn't know you could write before. Are you so talented that you keep it a secret?"

He was sweating profusely and his heart was pounding wildly. He didn't know how to answer, so he just smiled but didn't laugh out loud.

But what he thought in his heart was: for those of them who just eat and wait for death, just being able to write is a great ability. This kind of praise is simply an insult to him who aspires to win the Nobel Prize.

My colleague said that it is good to be able to write. In the 21st century, being able to write is also a skill. Where do you publish your writings?

What he feared most was being asked this question. He said that he had not published much.

"Why not publish it?" he said. "What's the point of writing without publishing it?"

"Won't it be embarrassing if I post this level?"

"What?" the colleague asked, "Do you know who is that person from the Federation of Literary and Art Circles?"

"Who?"

"That guy, Lin Feng, yes, Lin Feng, whose pen name is Mu Yu Lin Feng, publishes articles in Xihe Literature and Art every day, and he has almost become half of the Xihe literary world. I think you write much better than him. If you write, won't you be better than him?"

Wang Zixu knew that this was flattery. His colleagues were all slick and smooth, saying all kinds of flattery without really saying it. His colleagues didn't even read his work carefully, so how could they be sure that they were better than others? But he still became interested in Xihe Literature and Art.

Only now did he realize that he had made a mistake. In the past, he only focused on the best literary magazines in the country, which were famous for many legendary names. If he could have his name listed alongside them, it would be enough to cause a huge sensation in the local area.

Of course, his ultimate goal was to win the Nobel Prize for Literature 50 times, and being published in the country's top fiction journals was nothing in comparison. His grand dream was both his luck and his curse. That's why he kept his eyes on the moon and ignored the six pennies on the ground.

Every year, the government allocates a sum of money to the Federation of Literary and Art Circles to support the development of local culture. Although the circulation of Xihe Literature and Art is very small, and the typesetting and binding are not up to standard, the royalties are not fictitious. If Wang Zixu received the royalties, then the money was not only legitimate, but also came with honor.

"Is the payment for Xihe Literature and Art much?" he asked.

A colleague said, "I heard from Lin Feng that publishing an article should only cost 500 yuan? But the manuscript fee is not important. We usually spend 2,000 yuan on a meal. What is valuable is the opportunity to show our faces. You don't know how many people are scrambling to be on Xihe Literature and Art."

Xihe Literature and Art is a magazine published by the Municipal Federation of Literary and Art Circles. Every unit is required to subscribe to it, and current and retired leaders all have a copy. Wang Zixu can understand what he means by "an opportunity to show his face".

From experience, leaders are so busy that they don’t even have time to read the monthly economic report. It is unlikely that they will go out of their way to consult local literary journals. But we should always be prepared for the worst. What if?
What if one day a leader gets inspired and happens to flip through "Xihe Literature and Art", happens to like a book, happens to glance at the author's signature, and this author happens to be in the promotion probation period, wouldn't that be a shortcut to success?

This "what if" alone is enough to attract countless people. According to colleagues, Xihe Literature and Art Magazine receives a lot of manuscripts every day. Most of the mailing addresses are from units within the system, and the signatures are all the official writers of each unit, each one more talented than the other. But Wang Zixu doesn't care about this "what if". He doesn't seek to make progress, but only wants to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, and this award is obviously not decided by local leaders. But when he heard that the manuscript cost 500 yuan, his eyes became red, and he decided to submit his manuscript and give it a try.

The colleague said, "I have a nephew who is starting a business and needs someone who can write. I'll ask him to find you later. Maybe he can make some money."

Wang Zixu nodded in thanks and threw himself into his writing plan, but he didn't take the words to heart. After a week, both of them forgot about it. Until someone called Wang Zixu and asked if he was a good writer and if he wanted to meet him. He thought someone was calling to mock him.

……

My colleague's nephew met Wang Zixu. He was bald, wearing a black leather jacket and a gray-gold ring on his thumb. If he put on a long gown, he would look like a young master of the Eight Banners.

The bald man held Wang Zixu's novel and scanned it left and right at an alarming speed. He said, "Your writing is really amazing. If you come here to write scripts, it would be a waste of talent." My uncle told me that he had a good writer, but I was dismissive. I thought it was the same level as the one in "Xihe Literature and Art". Who would have thought there were talented people here?

Although Wang Zixu was very pleased with this, the brown sunglasses and the Sanskrit tattoo on his arm revealed that he was not a scholar. This image was far from the image of a magazine editor that he had imagined at the beginning.

Wang Zixu asked: "What exactly do you do?"

The bald man said, "I'm a software developer. I have a platform that was created just a month ago. The response and index are very good. Now we need to expand rapidly and need a lot of content. I like your content very much. In addition, I have a relationship with my uncle. I will give you this price. I will take whatever you want as long as your content is acceptable."

The bald man held up two fingers, indicating 200 yuan. Wang Zixu asked, 200 yuan? A manuscript?
"correct."

Wang Zixu's interest was immediately piqued.

"I can do it. I can do it. But I have never written one before. How do I write the script you mentioned?"

The bald man said: "It's not difficult, it's almost the same as creating something. Do you know 'speech therapy'? Don't know? Hey, it's Xiaobai. Sorry, the Xiaobai I'm talking about has nothing to do with Duke Huan of Qi. This is the language of our users. Xiaobai refers to newcomers who don't understand this circle.

"Most of our users are women who live in the urban jungle. They are lonely and need someone to give them the courage to face tomorrow and heal their spiritual trauma. Our service is to provide a large number of lively and sunny chat hosts to accompany them through the lonely time late at night."

Wang Zixu felt his eyes were opened. He had never thought that loneliness could become a business opportunity. Instead of chatting with people to relieve his loneliness, he would rather build a stegosaurus on the squat machine downstairs. But think about it, in such a big city, maybe not everyone can own a perfectly rusted iron bar, and not everyone is like him, not everyone doesn't mind the feeling of "big harvest".

But in any case, this is a solid step towards facing the spiritual problems of modern people, and its significance is no less than the Nobel Prize in Literature. He feels sincere admiration.

Wang Zixu's impression of the bald man changed drastically. He stretched out his hand and shook his hand vigorously, announcing: "I think you are doing a great thing."

The bald man smiled, said thank you, and then continued: "However, most of our speech therapists do not have a high level of education, so when communicating with high-end users, they are often... superficial. This is understandable. After all, the income in this industry depends on how many orders are placed, and we cannot recruit highly educated intellectuals. It is also for this reason that the praise of our APP has decreased, which is a very dangerous signal. But from your words, I see a turning point."

Wang Zixu took a deep breath. Although he himself has a bachelor's degree, he does not discriminate against people with academic qualifications. He always believes that "Speech at the Yan'an Forum on Literature and Art" is an important chapter in the history of literature. Literature needs to serve the people, and even if the people have low academic qualifications, they still need to enjoy the beauty of literature. Therefore, he feels that he should do something for the bald man.

He asked solemnly: "What do you need me to do?"

(End of this chapter)