082 Private Stash? Husband, What’s Going On Here? (Requesting Monthly Votes)

“Xueming, listen! Our ‘Today’ magazine has just started up, and all the funding comes from a few of us friends, out of our own pockets. We haven’t received a single cent in official support…”

Cheng Xueming simply nodded, making Chen Shumin feel so awkward he couldn’t go on.

To put it plainly, they just wanted to get Cheng Xueming, the author of ‘The Horseman,’ to contribute for free!

And their little scheme was ambitious—no payment for the manuscript, and on top of that, coveting the fame of ‘Old Xu, the Horseman’ for their launch issue, hoping to make a big splash right away.

Bold indeed!

“How about this, Xueming: you could take on the honorary role of editor-in-chief at our magazine. We can offer you seven yuan per thousand words—honestly, we’re stretched so thin I’m embarrassed to even suggest it!”

Seeing that Xueming was only nodding without showing any other reaction, Chen Shumin, having already spoken so bluntly, gritted his teeth and decided to try and rope in Cheng Xueming, the famous ‘Old Xu, the Horseman!’

“Chen, there’s no need for just an honorary title. Why not offer me an actual editorial position?”

Honorary editor-in-chief—Chen Shumin really dared to dream! Not only did he want Xueming’s writing for free, he wanted to use him as a figurehead for free as well.

Yet, if Old Chen could truly offer the position of chief editor, Cheng Xueming wouldn’t mind actually joining the venture!

Because he knew the potential of this fledgling ‘Today’ magazine!

No need to elaborate about the start-up phase now.

By the second half of next year, that is, the second half of 1979, ‘Yanjing Daily’ would be the first to break ground in the new era of magazines and newspapers—by publishing the very first advertisement in the history of the national press.

Yes, the very first ad in the country. Next year, 1979, would thus become Year One in the history of advertising.

At the same time, new policies would be introduced to support advertising projects, and all newspapers and magazines nationwide would enter the era of self-financing institutions.

Almost all publications would become self-funded enterprises, with no more government subsidies—each magazine and newspaper would be responsible for its own profitability.

This would usher in a flourishing spring for the press, a time of blossoming competition and prosperity.

So, for Chen Shumin to start ‘Today’ right now meant he would catch this coming industry spring.

If Cheng Xueming could get involved—whether as editor-in-chief or as an investor—then once the advertising sector fully revived next year, wouldn’t he be in prime position to reap the first wave of benefits?

With the influence of ‘Old Xu, the Horseman’ and the ‘Memoirs of Director Qiao’s Appointment,’ wouldn’t the ad contracts come pouring in?

Truly, these were prosperous days for writers—writing alone could make you the first to earn ten thousand yuan, among the first to become wealthy, and the money was well-deserved.

But wasn’t it even better to build platforms for other writers? Platform owners always made more!

Just think: in the late eighties and early nineties, which magazine wasn’t crammed with small ads?

Imagine the profits!

So, this policy of self-financing was excellent, and with this opportunity at ‘Today,’ Cheng Xueming was eager to seize it.

It all depended on Chen Shumin’s willingness!

What’s the use of an honorary title? If you’re going to offer something, make it the real editor-in-chief, and let’s see if I’ll take it!

After all, it’s a matter of mutual ‘bargaining’—no shame in that!

“Xueming, you want to be editor-in-chief? I thought you were preparing to take the entrance exams for Yanjing University. Would you even have time to run a magazine?”

Chen Shumin had casually suggested the honorary editor-in-chief title, thinking it was just a name and nothing more.

Who would have thought this young man would have the nerve to ask directly for the top job!

If ‘Today’ was just his solo project, Chen Shumin would have handed over the post. Worst case, he’d be chief editor and Chen Shumin could be the general editor!

But the problem was—Chen Shumin was general editor, but the editor-in-chief position had already been promised to another founding member!

“Chen, aren’t you also working here, doing important and meaningful work, yet still have time to help launch ‘Today’?”

Cheng Xueming countered.

“Well…that’s true.”

For most people not affiliated with Yanjing University, being a librarian there did seem like a job of great significance.

After all…

“So, Xueming, you’re really interested in joining us? Would a deputy editor-in-chief or chief editor position work for you?”

“Deputy editor-in-chief is still an editor-in-chief, isn’t it?”

Seeing Xueming was truly interested, Chen Shumin threw out his offer: deputy editor-in-chief or chief editor—he really couldn’t go higher!

“Deputy editor-in-chief is fine, but as a newcomer, I hope to take on more responsibility—ideally, equal to that of the editor-in-chief!”

Cheng Xueming reflected that in a magazine, there were really only three positions of authority:

First, the general editor.

It’s worth noting that neither the recently revived ‘October’ nor ‘Yanjing Literary’ had appointed a general editor to oversee daily operations.

Second, the chief editor—there was usually no deputy general editor. Liu Xinwu of ‘October,’ and Li Qingquan of ‘Yanjing Literary,’ both headed their respective magazines as chief editors.

Then came the deputy editor-in-chief or chief editor.

However, these two titles overlapped somewhat. Where there was a chief editor, there usually wasn’t a deputy editor-in-chief—like at ‘October,’ where his mother-in-law was chief editor and Liu Xinwu was the sole chief editor.

If there was a deputy editor-in-chief, there was usually no chief editor—like at ‘Yanjing Literary,’ where Wang Meng was deputy editor-in-chief, though he hadn’t yet assumed the post.

So, the magazine was really run by these three roles.

If Chen Shumin wouldn’t give up the chief editor spot, he could still offer chief editor or deputy editor-in-chief, and of course Cheng Xueming would go for deputy editor-in-chief!

It even sounded a bit grander than his mother-in-law’s chief editor post, didn’t it?

Of course, that was just a joke—he wasn’t actually competing with her.

As for wanting editor-in-chief level responsibility, that was just Cheng Xueming being upfront—laying the groundwork for future distribution of shares when the magazine became privatized.

Of course, he couldn’t mention shares now; it had to be about responsibility.

“That can be arranged, absolutely! In fact, we’d be delighted if you’d take on more responsibility—and contribute a few pieces as good as ‘The Horseman!’”

They quickly reached an agreement, and Chen Shumin, thrilled, slapped his thigh in excitement and agreed wholeheartedly.

“In that case, let’s set up a meeting soon so I can introduce you to the other two partners.”

Striking while the iron was hot, Chen Shumin was eager to gather everyone and get started.

“Fine by me! Just let me know the time. I’ll be at the library most days, so I’m free.”

Chen Shumin didn’t mention finances, only asked for Xueming’s contributions—fine!

At worst, it would just mean one less article’s worth of income per month, but with the chance to launch a magazine, the return could be much greater than hoarding courtyard houses.

After all, properties are fixed assets, but if the magazine grew as big as ‘October’ or ‘Yanjing Literary,’ that meant both status and wealth.

And since it was all part-time, there was really no pressure.

That afternoon, Cheng Xueming settled into his usual spot and began writing the script for ‘The Horseman.’

Actually, the screenplay wasn’t very long—just over ten thousand words in total. If Xueming really pushed, he could finish it in an afternoon and a late-night session.

But both Feng Jiayou and his mother-in-law had told him to take his time.

So he would!

He figured he’d stretch it out over a week or so, anyway director Xie Jin from Shanghai wouldn’t be coming to Beijing until next weekend.

As long as he had the script ready by then, there’d be no problem.

He could take it easy, and in the meantime, whip up a novella to submit to ‘Shanghai Literary’ before the winter break and earn himself a fat bonus for the new year.

“Wow, Xueming! Is the lead story in this issue of Yanjing Literary yours again?”

At around three or four in the afternoon, Chen Shumin wandered over from his desk and exclaimed in a low voice.

Xueming was startled.

“Didn’t I mention it earlier? There’s a short story of mine in this issue.”

Cheng Xueming glanced up at Chen Shumin—was there really any need for such a fuss?

“But you didn’t tell me it was the lead story again!”

Chen Shumin was genuinely shocked.

At lunch, Xueming had told him he had a story in the new issue, but hadn’t mentioned it was the lead.

Apparently a student had brought a complimentary copy into the library, causing a commotion, and that’s how Chen Shumin found out it was the cover story again.

He was floored.

How could it be the lead story again? Was it really so easy to get that spot in Yanjing Literary now?

Back when Chen Shumin had submitted to Yanjing Literary, he’d never once made the lead.

Even after submitting to several other magazines, he’d never had a front-page feature.

Look at Cheng Xueming—two issues in a row with the lead story, and the next novella he had written was sure to be a hit as well.

At this rate, wouldn’t it be three consecutive issues as the lead?

Not just three!

Chen Shumin suddenly realized that the novella Xueming had submitted was over two hundred thousand words.

Such long works were always serialized to keep readers hooked.

A two-hundred-thousand-word novella would be split over at least three issues.

Which meant, for the next three issues, Xueming could very well have the lead story every time.

That would be five consecutive issues—wouldn’t that be a record in literary circles?

“It’s nothing! Old Li at Yanjing Literary made the decision—he really is a decent guy.”

Cheng Xueming laughed it off. Another cover story—was it really worth all this fuss?

“All right, all right! Then you’d better write us a great piece for ‘Today’ as well—we’ll put you on the cover for sure!”

“And if you have any ideas, you can design the cover yourself!”

With two consecutive lead stories, Xueming’s ‘Old Xu, the Horseman’ momentum was unstoppable.

Chen Shumin could already foresee ‘Today’s’ launch issue becoming an instant hit.

“I’ll do my best!”

“When’s the launch planned? I’d like to schedule my time.”

Xueming smiled and asked about the first issue’s timing.

“We’re still soliciting contributions—it probably won’t make it this year, but we’re aiming for the first month after the winter break.”

Chen Shumin replied at once.

“All right, good to know!”

Xueming nodded. With two or three months to go, there was plenty of time—no pressure at all!

“All right, then. You focus on your writing, and I won’t bother you anymore!”

“Damn, another cover story. It’s terrifying just thinking about it!” Chen Shumin muttered as he left.

Xueming could only shake his head, but paid him no more mind, returning to his work on ‘The Horseman.’

About half an hour later, Feng Jiayou finished her classes and came by to meet him.

“Xueming, you really are a model student!”

She leaned in close, whispering into his ear as she helped tidy up his bag—after all, Zhang Denning and Bai Ling would be coming soon!

They had agreed to meet at the library at half past five.

But as she reached for his bag, Xueming instinctively pulled it back—a reflex that made him instantly uneasy.

“Just helping you pack up! What, do you have secrets in there I’m not supposed to see?”

As expected, Feng Jiayou grew suspicious at his reaction and insisted on checking his bag!

“No, no, dear. What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you?”

His head ached.

He’d reflexively shielded his bag because he was hiding his private stash—the complimentary copies and payment slip just received from ‘Yanhe Literary.’

He’d only just picked them up from the mailroom after lunch and hadn’t had time to hide them at home with his other books.

Now, out of the blue, Feng Jiayou wanted to look through his bag!

If she found his secret stash, it would be a disaster!

Just that morning, he’d sworn up and down that he wasn’t hiding money from her.

And now, in the blink of an eye, he was about to be exposed—he was doomed!