Chapter 00011: The Emotional Blogger of 1979
# The Emotional Blogger of 1979
Chapter 11
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 11: The Emotional Blogger of 1979
After dinner, the evening glow was particularly beautiful.
The courtyard, however, was far from peaceful, filled instead with the mundane chaos of daily life.
Inside the house, Chen Jianjun was fixing a fountain pen by the fading daylight, while Chen Qi sat with Yu Xiuli, helping her wind a ball of yarn.
The family of three was quiet, as the only household appliance—a radio—was playing Yuan Kuocheng's storytelling of "The Forest and Snow Plains."
The old man hadn't yet started his famous "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" series; he was still narrating revolutionary tales.
"What year was his god-granddaughter born again?" Chen Qi mused silently as he wound the yarn, his thoughts leaping decades ahead in a quantum-like fluctuation.
After the storytelling ended, a health education program followed, and then a replay of the day's news: "At the end of this month, the Ministry of Culture will hold an award ceremony at the CPPCC Auditorium to honor outstanding films and young creators. This is the second such government-sponsored award since 1956."
Hearing this, Yu Xiuli perked up.
A devoted film enthusiast, she exclaimed, "Liu Xiaoqing will definitely be there! And Tang Guoqiang too! The films these past two years have been excellent. Chen Chong and Li Xiuming are so beautiful! And Chen Peisi from 'Look at This Family' is quite funny. Oh, I heard his father is Chen Qiang?"
"Not just heard, it's true," Chen Jianjun confirmed.
"Well, your Chen family sure has its share of talents," Yu Xiuli teased sarcastically.
"Mom, you're hurting my self-esteem," Chen Qi complained.
"Oh no, no, I didn't mean it like that, not about you," Yu Xiuli quickly backtracked, not wanting to offend her eldest son, who sold tea for a living.
"Is Chen Qi home?" A voice called from outside.
It was Auntie Wang, who often came by like an NPC, updating them on various tasks.
She entered with a smile, "Oh, the family's doing well. I need to talk to the boy about something."
"What is it?"
"Nothing major, just some updates about the tea stall."
Chen Qi followed Auntie Wang outside to the courtyard gate.
She looked troubled, "Kid, I didn't lie to you. I really talked to the plastic factory. They're taking it seriously and will give you an answer after some discussion."
"Discussion?"
"Of course, they need to have meetings. You think they can just hand out punishments without discussion? Don't be impatient, wait a couple more days."
"Alright, I'll wait. Thanks for your trouble."
Auntie Wang was surprised by Chen Qi's sudden compliance and advised, "Sometimes it's better to forgive and forget. I think a private apology would suffice."
"Mm-hmm," Chen Qi nodded, seeing Auntie Wang off before returning to wind more yarn.
...
In the early hours of the morning, while the vast city of Beijing still slept, some were already hard at work.
At the printing factory, under dim lights, freshly printed newspapers were loaded onto trucks.
Some were delivered to government offices and newsstands within the city, others to suburban counties, and the farthest to post offices for distribution to other provinces.
One batch arrived at a newsstand in Xicheng District.
Cao Yulan had risen early, bringing her own food to the knitting cooperative organized by the neighborhood.
She and about twenty other young women hand-knitted sweaters, with customers providing the yarn.
Business was booming; they had received over sixty orders in just a few days and were swamped.
Cao Yulan came from an ordinary family, was honest and hardworking, always following the organization's arrangements diligently.
As dawn broke, she reached a street corner.
The newsstand was already open, with newspapers like "People's Daily" and "Guangming Daily" neatly arranged.
They usually read newspapers at the neighborhood office, rarely buying their own, but something caught her eye: "How Should One Walk the Path of Life?"
Curious, Cao Yulan stopped and bought a copy of "China Youth Daily" for five cents.
She entered a dilapidated courtyard, their workplace provided by the neighborhood, where she was always the first to arrive, opening up and cleaning, earning an extra three yuan a month.
Sitting on a broken crate, she read by the dim light.
The article was a letter from a young man, recounting his life experiences from childhood to youth, his struggles after returning to the city, working at a cooperative, selling tea at Qianmen, facing discrimination and mockery, and his inner turmoil and confusion.
"I often wonder, what is the purpose of life?" he wrote.
"One must build their own spiritual home, which can illuminate the darkest corners of their soul!" he continued.
"I still believe life is full of sunshine!"
Cao Yulan held the newspaper close, reading word by word.
Though they had never met, his words felt incredibly familiar and resonant.
The writer's positivity and sincerity moved her deeply, especially his closing line: "I hope you face the sea, with spring blossoms!"
Tears welled up in her eyes, falling onto the newspaper.
She had never thought about life's purpose, nor had anyone ever spoken to her like this.
"Face the sea, with spring blossoms!" she repeated softly.
Her heart was struck by a gentle force.
She had studied, worked, gone to the countryside, returned to the city, and continued working—twenty years had passed in a blur, as if she had been asleep, waking to find nothing had changed.
"Yulan, why are you crying? Did someone bully you?" a concerned friend asked as she arrived.
"I'm fine, just... touched," Cao Yulan replied, handing over the newspaper.
Her friend read it and soon had red eyes too.
"Yulan, why did you show me this so early in the morning?"
"What are you all reading?" More friends arrived, one by one, all soon moved to tears.
"Really, no one has ever said such things to us before!"
"This comrade is our age!"
"Face the sea, with spring blossoms... it's beautiful. Even though we've never met, his words speak to my heart!"
The girls nodded in agreement, "Yes, they speak to our hearts!"
...
In Dongcheng District, a cooperative of seventeen young people had a more tedious job: sealing envelopes.
Despite their youth, they spent their days in a monotonous routine, more draining than working in a factory.
But today was different.
They gathered around a newspaper, discussing the meaning of life.
"What do you think the meaning of life is?" one asked.
"I don't know, I've never thought about it."
"Me neither, but sealing envelopes surely isn't it."
"I agree with this comrade. Selling tea isn't necessarily better. We're still young, who knows what the future holds? Staying optimistic and enriching our spiritual world is important."
"Hey," someone suggested, "why don't we write a letter to this comrade, thanking him for voicing our thoughts?"
"Great idea! Let's do it!"
"Get a pen, quick!"
...
"China Youth Daily" was a major newspaper, read daily by government offices.
In a small unit in Haidian District, a young man finished reading the article and the accompanying interview.
After a long silence, he took out a sheet of paper and began writing:
"Comrade Chen Qi, hello: I read your article in the newspaper and was deeply moved. I also feel ashamed of my own choices. Faced with the opportunity to take over my parents' jobs, I didn't have your courage..."
"I heard your cooperative is near Qianmen. I'd like to visit you, but I'm afraid of being too forward, so I'm writing this letter to the newspaper, hoping you'll see it. If possible, I'd love to meet and talk. I'm sure we have much in common. Looking forward to your reply!"
...
In Beijing, at Dahua Radio Instrument Factory, Zheng Yuanjie, 24, worked as a pump operator, earning 40 yuan a month.
He had a girlfriend at the factory, but she looked down on his elementary school education and wanted him to go to college to become a cultured man.
Zheng Yuanjie seriously considered it but decided against taking the college entrance exam, thinking it would only humiliate him.
The relationship ended, and he felt that without a diploma, he had no right to choose a partner.
He pondered how to become a cultured man without a degree and concluded that writing was the only way.
Now, reading "China Youth Daily," he was moved by the article's depiction of confusion and uncertainty, resonating with the generational struggles.
He remembered the name Chen Qi and continued writing his fairy tale, "Blackie on Honesty Island."
...
In Anhui Province, at Gaohe Town, 15-year-old Zha Haisheng suddenly shivered, feeling as if some of his luck had been taken away.
He shook his head and continued studying for the college entrance exam in July.
Yes, at 15, he was preparing for the exam and would later be admitted to Peking University's law department.
...
"China Youth Daily" had a nationwide circulation of two million, with Beijing and its surrounding areas as the main market.
On this day, hundreds of thousands read the letter and interview.
People, long suppressed, eagerly sought an outlet.
Though the opening was small, they passionately shared, discussed, and sought more.
It was like a sweet piece of bread, attracting the hungry.
Many picked up pens to write to the newspaper, sharing their thoughts on life and hoping for a response from the young author.
Except at Plastic Factory No. 2. The factory's leaders also held a copy of the newspaper, their faces turning green.
(Thanks to Gao Shanyangzi for the support...)
(End of Chapter)