Chapter 027: Yanjing Literature—Is This the Surprise You Mentioned?

The address of Yanjing Literature was No. 7 West Chang’an Street, truly in the shadow of the imperial palace—the compound of the Yanjing Cultural Bureau was located here. Cheng Xuemin carried Feng Jiayou on his bicycle, pedaling all the way from Yan University; it took him more than half an hour before he finally entered the Cultural Bureau compound.

After asking the gatekeeper which alley and which building housed Yanjing Literature, he stopped and parked his bicycle beside a small building with a signboard that read “Yanjing Literature.”

“Is this the place? Huang Beijia told me it’s inside the Cultural Bureau compound, but it’s hard to find!” Feng Jiayou hopped off the bicycle and asked.

“They have such a big sign hanging there, don’t they?” Cheng Xuemin gestured with his lips, motioning for the woman to stop reading his new manuscript and to look at their destination.

“Yanjing Literature!” Following Cheng Xuemin’s gesture, Feng Jiayou saw the sign and exclaimed with delight, “Xuemin, this new piece you wrote is excellent—it’s sure to be accepted!”

“Naturally. Don’t you know who your man is?” Cheng Xuemin took the manuscript from her, rolled it up in his hand, and said, “Come on, let’s go inside! And you still haven’t told me—what’s the surprise waiting for me here?”

The surprises Cheng Xuemin could imagine were nothing more than running into acquaintances. And as for the people Feng Jiayou might know, Cheng Xuemin could only think of her family.

His mother-in-law? She was the chief editor at October Magazine; she wouldn’t be working at Yanjing Literature.

His father-in-law? He’d considered it—after all, people coming and going in the compound greeted him as “Professor Feng.” The title of professor was usually reserved for university professors or literary scholars in the Cultural Bureau, seldom for magazine editors. But he had learned that his father-in-law was the director at the Foreign Languages Bureau, focused on publishing foreign literature. If Cheng Xuemin wanted to publish anything in a foreign language and make some good money, he’d have to do it through his father-in-law.

His eldest brother-in-law, Feng Jiazhao? He was a lecturer at Yanjing Film Academy and an in-house screenwriter at Yanjing Film Studio. If Xuemin wanted to break into the capital’s literary scene, he’d need his brother-in-law’s help.

His elder sister-in-law, Ke Yumei? No, that didn’t fit either—he knew the family well. Ke Yumei was an actress and director at the People’s Art Theatre.

As for his second sister-in-law, Sun Juan, she was hiding at her parents’ house, preparing for next year’s college entrance exam and hadn’t yet been assigned a job.

His second brother-in-law, Feng Jiacheng? Even less likely—he was still with the production corps, not yet returned to the city.

As for his youngest sister-in-law, she was still in her final year of high school.

After much thought, Cheng Xuemin had considered everyone around Feng Jiayou. He truly couldn’t imagine what surprise might be waiting for him here.

“Well... maybe I misspoke. I hope it’s a surprise,” she said, her face showing clear discomfort at the mention.

For her, it truly had been a surprise; but thanks to a mishap with submitting by mail, things had gone awkwardly.

“A surprise is a surprise—what do you mean, you hope it is?” Cheng Xuemin glanced at her, feeling more and more that something was off.

Hand in hand, they entered Yanjing Literature and found the editorial office. The door was open; Cheng Xuemin poked his head inside. The office, about the size of a classroom, contained two rows of desks—six in all. Five were occupied; only the desk at the far end was empty.

“Hello, comrades. Who are you looking for?” Before Cheng Xuemin could knock, a young woman seated in the inner row noticed them and asked.

The other colleagues looked up as well, curious about the visitors.

“Cheng Xuemin? Feng Jiayou? What brings you two here?” Just then, a head popped out from behind a potted evergreen near the front. The woman’s surprise quickly turned to delight as she greeted them. “You’re here for me, for me! We were classmates during the re-education campaign in northern Shaanxi!”

The young woman stood up, explaining to her colleagues who the visitors were.

So they really did know someone here! The woman said they’d been classmates during re-education in Shaanxi—this must be the surprise Feng Jiayou had mentioned.

But... Cheng Xuemin had no recollection of this young woman whatsoever.

After all, when he’d transmigrated, nearly everyone from Feng Jiayou’s re-education group had either gotten into university or returned to the city. The only one who hadn’t was brought back early through family connections, before Xuemin’s arrival.

So, as far as he knew, the only person from Chengjiawan commune’s educated youth group was the woman beside him, Feng Jiayou.

“Sister Bai Ling, what a coincidence!” Feng Jiayou shot a glance at Cheng Xuemin before greeting the young woman.

Bai Ling, was it? But why had Feng Jiayou given him that odd look before greeting her?

“Hello, Jiayou!” After greeting Feng Jiayou, Bai Ling turned to Cheng Xuemin. “Xuemin, when did you come to Yanjing? Why didn’t you write to tell me? I would have met you at the station! And I wrote you letters—why didn’t you reply?”

Whoa, please, don’t act so familiar—we’re not that close, are we? And I never received any letters from you; please don’t say such things in front of my wife!

“Hello, Bai Ling! I... Jiayou called me to Yanjing,” Cheng Xuemin quickly clarified, showing where his loyalties lay—after all, it was Feng Jiayou’s letter, claiming she was pregnant, that had lured him here.

Not only had she lured him to Yanjing, she’d tricked him into marrying her and getting the certificate as well! So, Bai Ling, if you have any ideas, you’re too late.

“I knew it was Jiayou who called you! Back when we were in Chengjiawan, you always treated her the best!” There was a hint of envy in Bai Ling’s tone.

Could it be that during his previous life as a country boy, he’d somehow triggered a melodrama of two young women competing for his affection? Surely not!

“Hehe, Sister Bai Ling, I haven’t had a chance to tell you—Xuemin and I are already married, and expecting a child!” Feng Jiayou caressed her belly, declaring her claim.

“What?!” Bai Ling was visibly shocked, her gaze darting to Feng Jiayou’s belly. “Jiayou, what happened? I haven’t been gone from Chengjiawan for more than a few months! And you two have already come this far?”

“Didn’t you always look down on Cheng Xuemin?” Bai Ling was visibly flustered.

She was genuinely stunned. During the years in Chengjiawan, countless men had admired the most beautiful city girl in the commune, Feng Jiayou. She had always held herself aloof, like a proud, fallen swan, keeping all suitors at arm’s length—including Cheng Xuemin, grandson of the commune leader. Because of his family ties, others dared not challenge him. Even so, Jiayou had always kept her distance from Xuemin, which had given Bai Ling—whose own family background was problematic—some hope.

But Xuemin had eyes only for Jiayou. Even when Bai Ling returned to the city, he had never expressed his feelings, though she’d always secretly hoped for him, that honest, straightforward man from Shaanxi.

Yet in the blink of an eye, the two of them were not only together, but married and expecting a child? She hadn’t even been gone that long!

“Sister Bai Ling, things happened after you returned to the city,” Feng Jiayou replied shyly, not wishing to linger on the topic. She changed the subject, “By the way, who is Teacher Zhang Dening? Xuemin was called here by her to revise his manuscript.”

“For me?” The young woman who had first spoken now stood up, looking puzzled. “Are you the author ‘Old Xu’ who wrote ‘Wrangler’—the one with the line ‘Old Xu, do you want a wife or not’?”

“Huh? Jiayou, you wrote ‘Wrangler’?” Bai Ling asked in astonishment.

“Teacher Zhang, Sister Bai Ling, ‘Wrangler’ was written by my husband, Xuemin.”