116 An accident occurred; the foreign language manuscript for "The Herdsman" has been withdrawn!

The sister-in-law had become quite sweet-talked, earning a two-yuan reward from her sister on the condition that she handle the dishwashing and pot scrubbing for the evening—a prospect that left her beaming with delight.

"Xue-min, here is your pocket money!"

Feng Jiayou did not forget her husband, either. She carefully tucked away the two-thousand-yuan manuscript fee slip—the largest sum they had received to date. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her wallet and rewarded Cheng Xuemin with a ten-yuan note, a generous amount of pocket money.

"Thank you, dear! With this bonus, I have even more motivation to earn!"

Cheng Xuemin rolled up his sleeves and got straight to work, continuing to build his secret "little treasury" of illustrations right in front of her. At the rate of her meager rewards, when would his secret fund ever become truly substantial?

"Sister, you’re so biased! Why does Big Brother Cheng get ten yuan for pocket money, while I only get two?"

Though Cheng Xuemin secretly scoffed at his wife’s ten-yuan reward, he couldn't help but tease his sister-in-law, Feng Jiamo, who was complaining loudly.

"Go on, go on! Getting two yuan out of you is already generous enough! You call me biased?" Feng Jiayou shot a look at the ungrateful man before turning back to her sister. "Feng Jiamo, if you can hand me a manuscript fee slip for two hundred yuan, I’ll give you a hundred in pocket money. Do you believe me?"

She then turned to encourage Cheng Xuemin, "Keep working hard and strive for even greater success! But don’t put too much pressure on yourself." Perhaps feeling she had been too demanding, she quickly added the latter part.

As for "greater success"? A two-thousand-yuan slip was likely the ceiling for them; it was hard to go higher unless Cheng Xuemin could produce a massive novel of half a million words. Still, she wouldn't force it. If they could generate another two thousand in the next year or so, she would be more than satisfied.

At dinner, Mother Feng learned about the audition and asked for Cheng Xuemin’s thoughts. Her mother-in-law had become very considerate of him. Given her strong and prideful personality, she would normally never approve of her son-in-law wasting time filming at the Beijing Film Studio. However, when asked for his opinion, she left the decision to the couple. If his inspiration had run dry and he couldn't write anything good, she felt that filming for a month or two might be a good way to clear his head. As for Feng Jiayou, who worried about the household, there was no need to speak—with the whole Feng family there, they could easily manage.

However, Cheng Xuemin had no intention of going, at least not before the New Year. He had many illustrations to finish and several manuscripts still owed. Furthermore, during the winter break, he might need to return to northern Shaanxi to bring his parents over for the holidays. He had written to them before, but they had declined. Feng Jiayou suggested he go get them himself so they could stay for a while.

If Xie Jin started the film crew before the New Year and headed to the Northwest farms for location scouting, Cheng Xuemin truly wouldn't have the time.

"Xuemin, your piece 'Director Qiao' will likely go to the Foreign Languages Press first, to align with the spirit of the recent meetings and serve as international publicity," his father-in-law, Father Feng, suddenly mentioned. "The 'Herdsman' manuscript might have to be pushed until after the New Year."

The piece they had already translated and approved, *Herdsman*, was temporarily pulled to make room for *Director Qiao Takes Office*. In fact, the entire issue was being replaced with reports promoting the Reform and Opening-up. The original issue might not even be published until after the New Year.

"Really? My piece is going to be published too!? Is it still being translated by Old Qian?" Mother Feng’s eyes lit up at the news.

"This one is urgent and sensitive, so the Bureau has already set up a special translation team," Father Feng replied.

The current issue of *Chinese Literature* was a serious matter. They weren't publishing individual submissions; a dedicated team had been formed to ensure the most careful translation of the conference spirit and important speeches. The only individual piece included was his son-in-law’s *Director Qiao Takes Office*, which strictly adhered to the official line, signaling to the outside world that the reforms weren't just empty talk—they were truly beginning. The bold reforms undertaken by Old Qiao in the story were the signal they wanted to convey. Therefore, the authorities placed great importance on his son-in-law's manuscript and personally designated the Foreign Languages Press to translate and publish it.

"A special translation team was formed?!"

This stunned not only Mother Feng but the entire family, who stared at Cheng Xuemin in disbelief.

"Yes! Once the draft is finalized in a couple of days, you’ll likely need to come with me to the Bureau, Xuemin. The working group wants to discuss it with you, the author, in person." Father Feng mentioned this to help Cheng Xuemin prepare.

"Of course, Dad. No problem, I’m free whenever!" Cheng Xuemin nodded. He was actually quite looking forward to visiting the *Chinese Literature* office. He had been wondering how to submit work externally to earn foreign currency certificates for his secret treasury. While he could have asked his father-in-law, his own desire to be self-sufficient prevailed. Feng Jiayou’s treasury had already crossed five thousand, while his was only a few hundred—he was lagging far behind.

That night, the couple celebrated cautiously once more.

The next day was Saturday, but not a day off. The two-day weekend was still over a decade away; people still worked and went to school on Saturdays. After dropping Feng Jiayou at school, Cheng Xuemin spent the morning at the library, finishing the remaining illustrations. Including the work from the previous night, he had completed fifteen illustrations for *The Heart of a Mother* in about ten hours. He even drew three extra, just in case.

At twelve yuan per illustration, he earned 180 yuan. While he could have written thirty thousand words in that time, the illustration work was safe and allowed him to build his secret treasury right in front of his wife.

After lunch with Feng Jiayou, he headed straight to the People’s Literature Publishing House.

"Wait, Xuemin, you finished them so fast? Are you serious?" Old Pan, the head of the art editing department, was surprised when Cheng Xuemin arrived to submit the work.

"Teacher Pan, they are finished! Please, take a look and see if they pass," Cheng Xuemin said, shyly placing the work on the desk.

Old Pan looked through them and his eyes brightened. "Xuemin, did you get the true teachings of Elder Bai? I had the same suspicion with the *Herdsman* illustrations! These sketches... this is not simple!"

Old Pan was captivated, treating the review like an appreciation of art.

"Oh, I just like to copy Elder Bai’s paintings in my spare time," Cheng Xuemin replied modestly, referring to Professor Bai Xueshi, the head of the Traditional Chinese Painting Department at the Central Academy of Fine Arts. His own technique was a hodgepodge, but he knew the "Bai" style was the best cover.

"Well, your skill is no worse than the seniors at the Academy! Oh, you drew three extra? I won't pay you extra for those!" Old Pan joked.

"No need, I just wanted to make sure you were satisfied!" Cheng Xuemin replied.

"They pass! We’ll use your illustrations," Old Pan said, smiling. "I never expected you to be as good at drawing as you are at writing! If I didn't know you’d already turned down Old Zhang’s invitation, I’d recruit you into our department as a full-time art editor."

Cheng Xuemin declined the full-time position, but agreed to help out in his spare time. Seeing a notice on the desk about recruiting artists for picture books, he asked, "Are you looking for illustrators for children's books?"

"Are you interested, Xuemin? We are in urgent need of drafts. Would you like to try?" Old Pan’s eyes lit up again. Children's picture books were different; they required simplicity, charm, and the ability to capture a child's imagination. Most professional art students couldn't quite master the balance of simplicity and clarity.

"What’s the pay for these?" Cheng Xuemin asked.

"I pay others four to six yuan, but for you, I’ll start at seven," Old Pan said eagerly. "If they’re good, I’ll bump it to eight—the top rate for picture books!"