Past Memories

Dad was a man of action; once the decision was made, he sold whatever vegetables from the house he could. The rest, unable to be sold, were given to their relatives. After all, between Lin Xia’s family and her relatives, there were more than a dozen households—divide it up, and that was that.

Lin’s father went to the county to supervise the construction, leaving Lin’s mother at home to look after Lin Xia and her brother. Especially Lin Hui, who would dash off to the game room to play video games, infuriating their mother to the point where she served him a daily portion of bamboo shoots stir-fried with pork. Occasionally, Lin Jia Gui would bring home some snacks from the county, check in on Lin Xia and her brother, and assess his son’s academic progress.

Watching her family’s life improve day by day, Lin Xia couldn’t help but feel delighted, and this happiness flowed directly into her writing.

“Hey, Lin, have you been in an especially good mood lately?” Having finished work matters and seeing their boss was away, Miao Miao found the leisure to chat with Lin Xia.

Lin Xia chuckled, “Yes, we’ve bought a house and are renovating it. Just thinking about having my own study and being able to buy a computer makes me really happy.”

“So your family is finally getting a computer!” Hearing this, Miao Miao brightened. “Next time we can chat on QQ during work hours. You know, gossiping in the office isn’t good—if the boss catches us, there go our bonuses.”

Speaking of which, Miao Miao’s luck was worth mentioning. She had just graduated from B University’s Chinese department and, thanks to her uncle, landed a job at the talent-filled editorial department of “Fine Rain” magazine, where she handled thousands of submissions from all over the country every day.

The literary market was presently dominated by the post-80s generation. Despite Lin Xia’s lack of work experience, even with her seasoned eye for manuscripts, Miao Miao was captivated by Lin Xia’s short stories. Bold and fearless, she submitted them to Editor-in-chief Kai Shui.

Kai Shui, after reading them, gave the short stories a passing grade. Although the writing wasn’t exceptional and there were a few grammatical errors, the stories perfectly suited the tastes of the wider market. As editor-in-chief, he reviewed countless manuscripts each day. Even after the initial screening by the editorial staff, only he had the authority to make the final decision.

Thus, Kai Shui instructed Miao Miao to make minor edits to Lin Xia’s manuscripts, and they were published. Since Miao Miao had discovered this writer called Liu Yan, she was naturally assigned to manage her works.

And so, Miao Miao became Lin Xia’s editor.

The edited pieces satisfied Kai Shui, especially the novel “Girl, Don’t Cry.” The story carried a gentle melancholy, yet beneath it lay a subtle warmth, leaving the reader comforted but with a lingering ache.

Kai Shui saw great potential in this writer. Because she was his niece’s first managed author, he published her two short stories at the generous rate of one hundred yuan per thousand words.

Later, whenever Kai Shui recalled this moment, he felt that his most astute decision in life was pulling strings to get his niece into the editorial department. Just look at the profits she brought to the magazine!

During the serialization of “Girl, Don’t Cry,” the sales of “Fine Rain” increased by 0.3 percent. Sales and bonuses were linked, so those few months were lucrative for both him and the magazine.

After a few tantalizing chapters whetted the readers’ appetites, the magazine hurriedly contacted a publisher and rushed the book to print. Riding this momentum, the first edition sold 200,000 copies upon release.

While this didn’t rival some mainstream post-80s authors, for someone Lin Xia’s age, it was already remarkable. After all, she was only a thirteen-year-old girl.

Of course, Miao Miao occasionally wondered how a thirteen-year-old could write so well. It was downright uncanny and extraordinary. One day, her uncle mentioned something at the dinner table that enlightened her.

He said, “From a reader’s perspective, her writing seems excellent. A good story boils down to two things: plot and prose. If the plot is weak, vivid prose and character development can compensate. Her stories are simple, everyday events, but her prose is ornate and her characters are lively.

“In ‘Girl, Don’t Cry,’ the male lead, Yin Shaoluo, is sunny and cheerful, open and carefree. The second male, Yin Shaoze, is cold on the outside but gentle as clouds within. The second female lead, Season, is perfectly elegant, while the protagonist, Su Qin, is so ordinary she could be lost in a crowd.

“It’s this distinct characterization that fulfills young girls’ fantasy of a prince charming.”

Moreover, she let Yin Shaoze die—a stroke of genius. Tragedy, after all, is what moves people most. You can’t help but still think of Yin Shaoze from time to time, can you?

Writing improves with practice; as long as she persists, her prose and command of storytelling will steadily grow. Right now, her stories are good, but the plot remains somewhat thin, and her grasp of structure and pacing isn’t strong.

Only then did Miao Miao understand why her uncle valued Lin Xia so highly. Having worked in editing for decades, he had developed a keen eye for talent. As a fresh graduate, even if she thought Lin Xia’s writing was decent, she wouldn’t have had the insight to see its latent value.

Of course, Lin Xia, far away, knew nothing of this.

But she remembered the kindness shown by “Fine Rain” magazine. As long as they didn’t go too far in the future, she wouldn’t abandon them for another publisher.

Having lived two lives, Lin Xia had received traditional education. Her writing drew heavily from classical thought, making her somewhat old-fashioned at heart.

For example, in her view of relationships, if the couple hasn’t met each other’s parents, they wouldn’t casually engage in intimacy.

Though she wrote contemporary youth novels, she enjoyed reading classics and was deeply influenced by their ideas. Coupled with the views of Master Yi Shu and her own, she began to subtly develop her own style.

Of course, this style wasn’t yet apparent in her current school romance pieces. When she finally bought a computer and moved beyond pure romantic themes, her style would fully emerge.

For now, she was adept at writing stories of spiritual love. If she were to write a story where the main characters actually fell in love, it would be quite a revelation.

It’s worth noting that the first reader of every novel and story she published was none other than her father—Lin Jia Gui.