Chapter 198 Creed

Chapter 198 Creed

Chapter 198 Creed (6000 words)
"What is this? A prank? Whatever it is, let me first say that it has nothing to do with me."

Shi Shuqiu put the note back on the table and spread his hands. His tone was very crisp and certain.

The expression on Shi Shuqiu's face seemed to say, although I am glad that you encountered such a thing, I am sorry that it has nothing to do with me. If you come to me for this matter, I am sorry that I can't help you.

Wang Zixu said: "You misunderstood. I am not saying that this matter has anything to do with you. I am not here to complain."

"So what can I do for you?"

"Shuqiu, don't be so aggressive. You have no manners at all. Let the guest finish speaking." Shi Tonghe frowned.

Shi Shuqiu turned his head away, silent as a refrigerator that suddenly lost power.

Wang Zixu said: "I'm not here to cry, but since that dinner, it seems that Master Shi and I have had some misunderstandings."

Shi Tonghe drank tea: "There is no misunderstanding that cannot be resolved. I have wanted to talk to you for a long time, but I have never found a suitable opportunity. By the way, I read your "Fire in the Stone", it is well written."

Shi Tonghe's attitude changed abruptly, and Wang Zixu was a little surprised.

"You flatter me."

"No compliments, I've read it carefully, it's really good," Shi Tonghe pointed at him, as if he saw through him, smiled gently, and seemed a little kind, "You want to write a Chinese version of One Hundred Years of Solitude."

Wang Zixu really read the letter this time.

"In fact, I had this idea when I was young. Our country has such a long history, has changed so much, and has changed so fast. It would be interesting to write a book about it.

“I wrote a little at the time, but it was like playing with mud. The soil was not good and I couldn’t shape it. I didn’t write a long novel, but I did write a lot of short stories.

"When I was middle-aged, Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude became a global hit, so I went to buy it. Buying books back then was different from now. You couldn't just search and find them. You had to ride a bicycle for more than 20 kilometers to go to the bookstore in the city. There was only one bookstore that had it. After going there and coming back, it would be dark and your body would be covered in dirt.

"Before reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, I had only read some classic works in Western literature, such as Flaubert and Balzac. The most I read was revolutionary literature. Reading One Hundred Years of Solitude was the second shock I received."

Shi Tonghe seemed to have completely forgotten the purpose of their visit. He took a sip of tea, a faint smile on his face, and talked with relish.

An old man talking about the past always seems a bit gloomy, but Wang Zixu still listened patiently and sat quietly. Shi Tonghe continued to tell his story.

"The first shock was Les Miserables. When I was young, I only read revolutionary literature and thought that all novels in the world were like that. It was only when I read Les Miserables for the first time that I realized that novels could be written in this way and in these ways.

"At that time, my mind had just opened up a little. Although some books were sold in bookstores, I still had to read them secretly. When I read One Hundred Years of Solitude later, I had read a lot of Western classics, but this book still opened my eyes. I didn't know that novels could be written in this way. This was the second shock. Both shocks changed my understanding of novels."

Wang Zixu asked: "The narrative techniques of your book are relatively classical. Why didn't you imitate One Hundred Years of Solitude?"

"What?" Shi Tonghe was hard of hearing and didn't hear clearly.

Wang Zixu repeated it again, Shi Shuqiu glared and sat up straight, criticizing him fiercely for being rude with his eyes - Who are you to be qualified to comment on my father?

Shi Tonghe said unconcernedly: "When I read One Hundred Years of Solitude, it was already too late. The style had already been finalized. I said that I later tried to imitate it and wrote some, but it didn't fit together and was all very scattered.

"My dream is to write a novel that is substantial enough to establish my position in literature. It would be enough for me to do this well in my life. But I am getting old. Now I think that if I put together all the things I have written and compile them into a collection, it could be regarded as the Chinese version of One Hundred Years of Solitude. Of course, this is just to comfort myself."

Shi Tonghe's tone was slow and firm. Although Wang Zixu couldn't empathize with his experience, he could empathize with him. Writers always have similar ideas. I wanted to be tough just now, but after listening to what he said, I softened a little.

No matter what, Shi Tonghe's achievements in literature are difficult to erase and stand firmly like a tall tower.

Shi Tonghe sighed: "So I envy your generation. You have such good conditions, you can read a lot of works, and you can easily realize your dreams. These are things I couldn't even imagine at that time."

Chen Qingluo said: "Every generation has its own challenges. We envy the freedom of creation in the past. Every work we wrote was like exploring virgin territory that no one had ever set foot on. But now, everything we want to write has been written before. It is extremely difficult to stand out."

Shi Tonghe nodded slowly and said, "Yeah."

"It was not easy for Wang Zixu to write Fire in the Stone. Rather, it was very hard. He spent so much money to create a work of extraordinary significance. I think that even though writers look down on each other, they can at most be reluctant to praise each other, and will not maliciously hinder or become a roadblock."

Chen Qingluo was so frighteningly straightforward that Shi Shuqiu straightened up and looked like he wanted to say something, but Shi Tonghe waved his hand and said, "Shuqiu, go out. I'll talk to them."

"But……"

"get out."

Shi Shuqiu got up and left, closing the door behind him.

"He has some temper problems now and is becoming more and more rebellious. I talked to him about it last time, and it might have gotten too serious. Now he doesn't listen to me." Shi Tonghe's tone became a little impatient.

He turned to Wang Zixu and said, "I only learned about your reputation at Nanjing University when Yesterday's Star held a seminar. Because of his friend, I ignored him for three days. Later, he said he had made up for his mistakes, so I forgave him."

Shi Tonghe adjusted his posture, leaned on the armrest of the sofa, and said, "Although he is a bit impulsive, he is still relatively upright and rational. He said that this matter has nothing to do with him, and I believe it definitely has nothing to do with him."

"I'd also like to believe that it has nothing to do with him," Wang Zixu said softly, "What about the matter of Ancient City?"

The expression on Shi Tonghe's face froze.

"You introduced the editor of Ancient City to me. In order to submit my work to Ancient City, I did not submit it to Yangtze River, which I have a better relationship with, just because of your recommendation. But I was very disappointed with that editor."

Shi Tonghe smiled and said, "Every editor has his own opinion. I can't interfere with that. And you see, it was precisely because of this negotiation that you were accepted by Get. It's a blessing in disguise."

“That’s because I made it through,” Wang Zixu said. “If I hadn’t, there wouldn’t be anything, let alone a Chinese version of One Hundred Years of Solitude. My manuscript would probably only be published in a second-rate magazine.”

Shi Tonghe was silent.

After a long while, he said, "What do you mean by telling me this?"

"What I want to know is, did you know beforehand that Ancient City would reject my manuscript?"

Wang Zixu stared at him straight, and Shi Tonghe felt the gaze was burning and turned his face away.

"Alas." He sighed deeply.

"Don't get me wrong," Wang Zixu said, "I'm a straightforward person. I just want to know an answer. I don't have any other intentions. I want to know whether I am a rough diamond or not. This is very important for my future creations."

Wang Zixu spoke from his heart.

With his current status, he couldn't find a way to take revenge, let alone put pressure on Shi Tonghe. Even if he knew, what could he do?

He just wanted an answer.

"Ms. Chen," Shi Tonghe suddenly looked at Chen Qingluo, "Do you mind if I talk to him alone?"

Chen Qingluo stood up decisively.

"No, no, just sit down. I'll talk to him upstairs."

Wang Zixu exchanged glances with Chen Qingluo, then followed Shi Tonghe upstairs and into his study.

Shi Tonghe's study is very large and luxuriously decorated. Its structure is similar to the White House presidential office. There is a very expensive sandalwood table in the middle and a computer desk in the distance, which looks rarely used.

On the sandalwood table, there were several manuscripts, beside which were pens, ink, and a copy of Get magazine. Two drops of ink had fallen on the table, and the ink had not yet dried.

Wang Zixu glanced over and before he could see the contents of the manuscript, Shi Tonghe walked over and covered the manuscript with a copy of Obtain magazine.

Wang Zixu looked up at him.

"Xiao Wang, you want an answer, I'll give it to you. I really didn't take the recommendation of "Ancient City" seriously. Fortunately, the result is good."

"Did you know this beforehand, or didn't you?"

"I can only say that I really didn't take it seriously." Shi Tonghe said, "You understand, right?"

After listening to this, Wang Zixu savored the taste for a long time. Finally, he looked at Shi Tonghe and slowly shook his head.

"If that's all, there's no need to drag me upstairs to say it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too aggressive?"

"In the past, everyone at work treated me like a pushover."

Shi Tonghe sighed and sat down on the leather chair: "I wanted to talk to you about something else. You are now the vice chairman of the Xihe Literary Association, right? Have you joined the provincial literary association? Have you joined the national literary association?"

The prince shook his head.

Shi Tonghe said: "I have a quota in my hand. I can recommend you to the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles, and I can also recommend you to the National Federation of Literary and Art Circles."

Wang Zixu didn't say anything. He didn't know what Shi Tonghe wanted to do.

"Then, aren't you planning to hold a seminar for Fire in the Stone? I can go there and speak in person. My son didn't even get to enjoy this treatment.

"The publishing industry has recently been promoting a cultural export project. I happen to be a consultant, so I can promote your work. I can guarantee that your book Fire in the Stone will cause a sensation in the global literary world, and it may even have a chance to compete for next year's Mao Dun Literature Prize."

Wang Zixu moved his mouth but said nothing.

The conditions are very tempting.

But Wang Zixu had never had such a pure good thing happen to him in all his life experiences over the years. Shi Tonghe's words were tempting, but instead made him wary.

"Then what do I do?"

"You don't have to do anything. This is my compensation for what happened."

"That's it."

Shi Tonghe played with the pen for a while and kept looking at him. Wang Zixu stood as tall as a flagpole and also stared at him without giving in.

"Then, you haven't submitted your work for this year's Feishi Literature Award yet, right?" Shi Tonghe said, "You can wait a year and submit your work next year."

"why?"

Shi Tonghe continued to play with the fountain pen in his hand: "I'm going to tell you something from the bottom of my heart. Listen carefully. You may not get the prize this year. Because you are serializing. When you finish serializing, it will be next year. You can participate again next year, and the organizers can't find fault with you."

"Is it because there is a National Collection List this year?"

Shi Tonghe was stunned, threw away his pen, and said, "Whether there is one or not, you will most likely not get the prize this year. It will be better for everyone if you don't participate this year. Have I made myself clear?"

If this is a deal, it would be a very favorable deal. Of course, Shi Tonghe would definitely not admit that this is a deal.

Shi Tonghe tried his best to sound patient: "Wang Zixu, I just told you about my youth. Do you know why?"

"do not know."

"I think you are a bit like me," Shi Tonghe said. "Grassroots, stubborn, and with nothing but literature."

The prince remained silent.

"You must have suffered a lot on the road of literature?" Shi Tonghe suddenly asked.

"Ah."

"That's nothing. Only those who have endured the most hardships can become the best. I have heard this since I was a child, and my ears are covered with calluses. Chinese people are supposed to endure hardships. When they have suffered enough, happiness will come." "Shi Shuqiu didn't seem to have suffered much." Wang Zixu said quietly.

Shi Tonghe did not show any anger at being exposed, but simply said: "You will get old too."

Shi Tonghe added: "You think you can write, you can just bury your head in writing and ignore everything else. But you will get old.

“Your hormone levels will fade, your metabolism will slow, your desires will fade, your interests will shift, and you will change. You won’t always be suited to writing.

"But you're still a useless person who can't do anything except writing. What will you do then?"

The tea lid was placed on the teacup, fitting perfectly and making a crisp sound.

Shi Tonghe sat on the chair and finally said what he wanted to say, and his expression relaxed.

People will grow old and die. So when people grow old, they place part of their hopes on their offspring, living not for themselves but for their offspring.

This is something that is difficult for people without children to understand. But Shi Tonghe knew that Wang Zixu could understand it. If he didn't understand it, he couldn't write a Chinese version of "One Hundred Years of Solitude". Even if he could write it, he wouldn't be able to write it well.

This is how things are in China. The mysteries of thousands of years cannot be explained in a few words, but everyone can see through them. The affairs of emperors throughout the ages are just like this.

Wang Zixu lowered his head and thought for a long time. Then he raised his head to meet Shi Tonghe's expectant gaze.

"Then, I want you to promise me something."

"What's the matter? I don't like people who push their luck." Shi Tonghe frowned.

"I don't have any other requests. I just want you to apologize to me." Wang Zixu said.

"Why?" Shi Tonghe looked very surprised.

"Because of the Ancient City incident." Wang Zixu tried to sound modest. "I want to apologize to you."

Shi Tonghe couldn't help but raise his voice and spread his hands: "Am I not sincere enough? Am I not tolerant enough? You two young people want to come and see me, so I'll let you see me. Go out and ask who I open this door to? Am I not cultured enough?"

"Yes, yes, very much. But I still want you to apologize."

Although Wang Zixu's words sounded very arrogant, his attitude was humble enough. He clenched his hands tightly and spoke carefully, just like a tough guy telling Yang Zhi that he wanted to test his knife.

Shi Tonghe's face turned pale and he asked again: "Why?"

"Because, first of all, we should be kind, and secondly, we should be honest." Wang Zixu said, "I want to believe that you are kind and honest. If you apologize to me, I will believe it even more. I hope that everything I do is out of the most sincere motives, so that I can leave good memories in the future."

Because, a good memory stays in our hearts, and maybe at some moment, it can be the means to save us.

Maybe we will inevitably become bad people, but as long as we still have a self, this memory will come out and prevent us from doing the worst thing.

If a person can bring such beautiful and sacred memories into his life, he will be saved for life.

"Please apologize to me." Wang Zixu forced a smile. "If you want to know why, this is my life creed."

"Get out." Shi Tonghe said.

Wang Zixu turned and left.

Before leaving, Shi Tonghe called him back again, but not to apologize.

"Remember, you won't be treated this way after you leave this door," Shi Tonghe said with a terrifying expression, "I'm telling the truth. You really won't be able to win the award this year."

Wang Zixu turned around and walked out. Before closing the door, he heard Shi Tonghe's last words:
"You will regret this."

He went out, found Chen Qingluo, and took her away before the nanny came over to order them to leave.

Watching the two people's backs disappear around the bend of the bushes, Shi Shuqiu quickly went upstairs and knocked on the study door.

After getting permission, he pushed the door open and saw Shi Tonghe slumped in a chair. He looked tired and helpless, and there was also a bit of a sense of helplessness in his helplessness.

It was as if he had just escaped from the ruffian Niu Er.

"Damn, how come I run into such a new person?"

Shi Shuqiu selectively ignored his father's scolding and asked in a low voice: "Dad, you are not really going to recommend him to become a member of the National Literary Association, are you?"

Shi Tonghe didn't say anything. Silence echoed in the room. After a long while, he nodded: "Yeah. That was my original plan."

Shi Shuqiu was anxious: "Why? Why do you care about this person? Really, I listened to what you said. I didn't provoke him, but now he is the one who is provoking my family. Why are you so... so... appeasing to him?"

Shi Shuqiu thought for a long time and came up with a very good word, appeasement. It was very appropriate.

Shi Tonghe didn't need to make such concessions to that person. Shi Tonghe was a person of such status. If he did this, wouldn't it seem like he was afraid of Wang Zixu in the eyes of others? How could this be allowed?
"You know shit." Shi Tonghe finally couldn't help it, swore, and impatiently filled the pen with ink.

"I don't believe that I can win the prize just by having a lot of words," Shi Shuqiu said angrily. "The judges and organizers have such a good relationship with me, why should I be afraid of them?"

Shi Tonghe kept shaking his head while writing quickly on the manuscript paper with his head down.

Shi Shuqiu saw his father's actions and said anxiously, "Don't write anymore!"

"Get out." Shi Tonghe said.

After he finished speaking, he felt much more relaxed. His works when he was young were already famous for their vulgarity, with all kinds of curse words. He hadn't said them for a long time and felt a little rusty. Today, he regained some of the feeling of his youth.

Shi Shuqiu felt a little aggrieved. He was seldom scolded, and he had never heard the word "get out".

Shi Tonghe shook his head and said, "You don't know what kind of work "Fire in the Stone" is. You haven't seen it. Even if you have seen it, you won't understand it. You can't understand it."

He sighed, feeling both worried and loving for this old-age child, and said:
"Even those big editors and celebrities may not know. Only I know. Only I know how well Fire in the Stone is written."

The manuscripts under his hand were piled up one after another.

The printed manuscript next to it read "Yesterday's Stars", which is the work of Shi Shuqiu.

The titles of the works he pressed under his arms were vaguely visible. One was "Today's Moon" and the other was "Next Year's Flowers". Both were just started and not finished.

……

Wang Zixu and Chen Qingluo were standing in the small shrub maze of Yunchi Villa again.

The difference is that the sun is setting, the light is dimmer, and the air is cooler.

After the two walked side by side for a distance, Chen Qingluo asked:

"What does he want?"

"He told me not to participate in the Feishi Literary Award."

"That must be a condition."

“Very good conditions.”

"Do you accept it?"

"I also put forward conditions, but he refused."

"What conditions did you propose?"

Wang Zixu suddenly felt like laughing, so he stopped and said, "I'll ask him to apologize to me."

Chen Qingluo also stopped and blinked her bright eyes, looking at his profile: "He doesn't want to apologize."

"He doesn't want to."

After saying that, the two of them resumed their pace and walked out again.

Chen Qingluo said: "Literati are the most arrogant. The more famous a writer is, the prouder he is."

Wang Zixu shook his head: "Yes. But I can't help it. I am also a little proud."

After he finished speaking, he turned to look at her: "The funny thing here is that even though I am penniless and not at the same level as Shi Tonghe, I still dare to say I am proud in front of him."

Chen Qingluo said: "You are not penniless."

“I was actually a little scared at the time.”

"do not be afraid."

"In the end he said I would regret it. Maybe I will regret it in the future."

"Don't regret it."

“Maybe my refusal was wrong, but maybe it was right.”

"Maybe you're totally fine."

“Maybe I will get old, but maybe I won’t change. Maybe I can keep writing and keep getting better and better.”

"Maybe you are at least not worse than Shi Tonghe."

“Maybe I can win the Nobel Prize in Literature.”

After saying that, Wang Zixu looked up at the sky. The sky seemed narrow among the bushes.

"I suddenly felt a little nervous."

"take it easy."

"I was nervous before I came here because I was going to meet a big shot; I am nervous now because I will be fighting against a big shot in the future."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Maybe it's not just about fighting against big guys, maybe it's about fighting against some systemic problems, some systemic problems that haven't been solved for thousands of years."

“That’s what writers do.”

"I'm still a little nervous."

At this moment, he felt an icy cool touch on his hand, soft and boneless. This touch was so unreal that Wang Zixu thought he was dreaming.

"Don't be nervous." Chen Qingluo's voice came, "I'm with you."

The two of them walked along the winding path and out of this corner of the East China Sea.

(End of this chapter)