Jia You, is this inspiration sparked from the collision between you and your husband? (Please keep reading)

The transfer exam lasted two days, but the results wouldn’t be released until next Wednesday. Over the weekend, Feng Jiayou received three sample copies from “October”! Holding this issue of “October” magazine, she gazed at her own manuscript, now printed in lead type—her excitement was beyond words, she could hardly eat for grinning.

On Monday, as usual, Cheng Xueming rode his bicycle and took Feng Jiayou to school. She carried her three sample magazines to the classroom, eager to show off. Meanwhile, Cheng Xueming, taking advantage of her absence, secretly mailed a completed short story to “Shanghai Literary Arts,” hoping his twenty-thousand-word piece would fetch a good price.

If not for Feng Jiayou keeping a close eye on “Yanjing Literature,” Cheng Xueming would certainly have submitted there, given their per-word rate was at least two yuan higher. Submitting to other places meant starting over to build up experience and negotiate higher rates. Still, since his approach was to cast a wide net and let a hundred flowers bloom, he needed to keep building experience—all for the sake of his little treasury.

In his submission letter, Cheng Xueming also mentioned:
Recently returned from rural exile, penniless, with eighty-year-old parents to support and five or six hungry children at home. I hope the base price for acceptance will be at least five yuan. If you offer a high price, I’ll consider “Shanghai Literary Arts” my benefactor and will submit all future work to you.

Was this a shameless plea for sympathy? He didn’t care! As long as his little treasury could be filled quickly, there was no shame in earning money with his pen. Besides, the manuscript he honored deserved the top rate—seven yuan per thousand words. He owed it to the original author not to sell it for too little.

Moreover, he truly had elderly parents to support and would soon have children to raise. He needed to earn more to buy a bigger house, so he could bring his parents to Yanjing and let them help with childcare.

After mailing his manuscript, Cheng Xueming returned to the library and resumed his feverish writing.

“Student, I’ve been watching you for a while. You’re always here writing—don’t you need to attend classes?”

It was nearly lunchtime when the library administrator finally noticed Cheng Xueming, this unusual figure, and came over to inquire.

“Ah? Oh! Hello, sir. I’m not a student at Yan University. Am I allowed to read and write here?”

The young man before him looked like a student, but Cheng Xueming had noticed he worked at the library front desk, helping students borrow books and keep records—not a Yan University student, so Cheng politely addressed him as “teacher.”

He honestly admitted he wasn’t a Yan University student and wasn’t sure if non-students were allowed to use the library.

Actually, Cheng Xueming didn’t read much; most of his time was spent writing for publication, earning manuscript fees.

If the administrator really wanted to check, Cheng Xueming had no student ID and would be exposed easily, so he chose to be straightforward.

“You’re not a Yan University student? That explains it—I wondered why you were more punctual than our own students, always sitting here writing, never moving, never attending classes!”

The young librarian nodded and smiled, “Yan University doesn’t forbid students from other schools to read or borrow books here. Don’t be nervous!”

“I’m just curious—what are you always writing?”

“By the way, my surname is Chen. You can call me Old Chen, or Teacher Chen.”

Chen Shumin nodded, not here to chase him away.

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The truth was, the young man was a fascinating character. He’d been watching him for some time and today couldn’t resist coming over.

“Hello, Teacher Chen, I’m Cheng Xueming. My wife is a freshman at Yan University, and I’m here to keep her company while she studies.”

Knowing he wouldn’t be thrown out, Cheng Xueming relaxed and explained.

“Oh? Your name is Cheng Xueming and mine is Chen Shumin. Judging by your accent, you’re from northern Shaanxi? I just returned from being a rural youth there not long ago—we’re both from farming, working-class backgrounds. How fortunate!”

Chen Shumin felt even more affinity, and took a seat at Cheng Xueming’s table, chatting, “Your wife is a freshman at Yan University? You’re here to keep her company? That explains it!”

“Yes, Teacher Chen, you’re absolutely right. We’re both from farming backgrounds—I’m from northern Shaanxi, so we’re practically fellow countrymen!” Actually, Cheng Xueming’s accent wasn’t very strong.

“Yes, fellow countrymen!” Chen Shumin nodded, looking at the manuscript on Cheng Xueming’s table, and asked, “I’m just curious—what have you been writing all these days? May I take a look?”

“Of course! Please, Teacher Chen, I would appreciate your advice. I’m trying to write and publish manuscripts, earn some fees to help with household expenses.”

Since the librarian had asked, Cheng Xueming couldn’t refuse. After all, this was his domain—if he didn’t let him look, he could be thrown out.

He generously handed over the papers, saying, “It’s not finished yet. Please don’t laugh at me, Teacher Chen.”

“You’re publishing? Then I must read it carefully!”

Upon hearing that, Chen Shumin became even more interested, took the manuscript with both hands, and began to read intently.

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Meanwhile, Feng Jiayou, with her three “October” sample copies, was indeed enjoying her moment of glory in class.

“Jiayou, the revision is excellent—far better than your first draft. Did you suddenly have an epiphany?”

Huang Beijia was the first to grab a sample, immediately searching for Feng Jiayou’s article. Since none of the students used pen names, but published under their real names, it was easy to find.

After reading, Huang Beijia was moved, exclaiming, “Jiayou, you really are a product of editorial guidance—the quality is amazing. I couldn’t write at this level myself!”

“Yes, Jiayou, your revision is remarkable. How did you suddenly get so inspired? It’s much better than mine!” Cha Jianying chimed in, joking, “You used to revise too—did your husband’s arrival suddenly spark a burst of inspiration?”

“Hehe, you guessed right, Jianying. My husband deserves most of the credit for this publication.”

Hearing Huang Beijia and Cha Jianying admit their own shortcomings, Feng Jiayou’s pride was obvious. And to think Cha Jianying hit the nail on the head, half-joking!

Indeed, it was her husband’s arrival that sparked inspiration.

“Really? So your husband truly is more impressive than he looks!” Cha Jianying continued to tease.

“That phrase means someone is ugly but talented, but my husband isn’t ugly, is he?” Though she was praising him, the words sounded a bit odd.

“He’s not ugly, not at all!”

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Was Feng Jiayou’s husband ugly? She never thought so—he was actually rather handsome and pleasing to the eye.

“Hehe, my husband is very impressive!” Feng Jiayou had no hesitation in boasting—her husband deserved endless praise.

“How could he not be? Jiayou, you’re barely able to hide your belly!” Huang Beijia teased, gently touching her stomach.

“Who says my belly is showing? I’m still hiding it well, okay! Beijia, Jianying, please don’t spread rumors, I beg you!”

Mentioning her swelling belly, Feng Jiayou quickly became shy and pleaded. For now, only a few close friends in her dormitory knew.

“You won’t be able to hide it much longer!” Cha Jianying eyed her belly, laughing.

“Even so, I’ll keep it hidden until winter break—after the New Year, we’ll see!” Feng Jiayou giggled, changing the subject, “By the way, Jianying, has your ‘Yanjing Literature’ sample come out yet?”

“No, not yet! Has the manuscript fee from Sister Bai Ling arrived? Jiayou and I are still waiting for your braised pork! We haven’t had meat in days, you should urge Sister Bai Ling!” Huang Beijia joined in, teasing.

“Not yet! When it comes, I’ll definitely treat you to braised pork!” Who could be more anxious than Cha Jianying herself? This was her first published piece and manuscript fee—she was both eager and excited.

Unfortunately, “Yanjing Literature” hadn’t sent the sample or fee yet, leaving her restless.

“Braised pork? If you treat us today, De Ning and I get to join!”

As luck would have it, Bai Ling and Zhang De Ning appeared just then, overhearing the jokes and joining in.

“Uh? Sister Bai Ling, Sister De Ning, what brings you to Yan University?” Huang Beijia exclaimed, seeing the two junior editors from “Yanjing Literature” arrive together.

“Ha, of course we’re here to give you your braised pork money! We’ve brought your manuscript fees and sample copies!”

Bai Ling smiled, explaining their purpose to everyone.

“Jiayou, your husband isn’t here?” Zhang De Ning greeted Feng Jiayou, asking about Cheng Xueming.

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