Chapter 00051: The Literary Congress
# The Literary Congress
Chapter 51
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 51: The Literary Congress
There are two ways to quickly bring people closer together.
One is to do something together, whether it's good or bad; the other is to have a heart-to-heart conversation.
Gong Xue was experiencing this right now.
After calming down, she realized that Chen Qi's words weren't malicious—he was just trying to guide her.
But she still felt shy.
As they reached a fork in the road, Chen Qi suddenly said, "You go back first. I'll head back later."
"Okay," she nodded obediently and walked ahead.
"Tsk tsk, she really is a sight to behold," Chen Qi thought as he watched her retreating figure, recalling her tearful expression earlier.
Such natural beauty from the Jiangnan region was hard to come by in later years.
In truth, Gong Xue's acting in Under the Bridge was already quite good, handled with great finesse.
Early on, she wasn't as skilled, relying mostly on her looks.
It was a pity she didn't film more movies during her prime.
Today, she had taken the initiative to ask about her shortcomings, which made Chen Qi think highly of her.
She was a good girl.
"Mandarin ducks perch together, butterflies fly in pairs, the garden is full of spring colors that intoxicate... Quietly asking the holy monk, is the maiden beautiful?" Chen Qi hummed to himself, lingering for a while before heading back.
Suddenly, an idea struck him: "If I get the chance, I'll bring Zhu Lin and Gong Xue together in a film. Plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum—each with their own charm... The internet trolls of the future would probably worship me and build a temple in my honor, collecting donations for my merit!"
...
"Xiao Gong, you're back?"
"Yeah, I went out for a walk. You should rest early."
On the other side, Gong Xue returned to the hotel, quickly entering her room and closing the door.
She leaned against it, her mind blank, lost in thought for a moment.
She felt she had been too bold today, sharing so much.
These were things she hadn't even told her parents, afraid they'd worry.
"Xiao Gong?"
There was a knock at the door.
She turned and opened it, smiling, "Jin Ling, have you eaten?"
"I've eaten twice already. Why were you out for so long?"
"I was watching the sunset... it was beautiful."
"Was there a sunset today?"
Zhang Jinling scratched her head and handed over a piece of clothing.
"I don't know when it got torn. Could you help me mend it? I can do needlework, but compared to you, I'm like a kitchen maid."
"Don't say that, it's embarrassing."
Gong Xue took the shirt, found her sewing kit, and deftly threaded the needle, stitching it up without a hint of impatience or reluctance.
In the 1960s, each person could only buy three feet of cloth per year, which later increased to six feet.
As the textile industry developed, this amount gradually rose.
Depending on the region, the maximum now was sixteen feet per person, with an additional sixteen feet provided for weddings.
Poor families with many children had it the hardest.
They bought cloth to make clothes for the kids, while adults had to wear recycled cloth—old fabrics shredded and re-spun into rough material that could even feel prickly against the skin.
So, in those days, when clothes got torn, they were mended, not thrown away.
As Gong Xue sat on the bed mending the shirt, Zhang Jinling kept chatting, showering her with compliments: "Look at you, so beautiful, so kind, and so skilled with your hands. How did you turn out like this? I'm so envious."
"You're exaggerating."
"I mean it. Whoever marries you will have hit the jackpot."
"If you keep talking like that, I won't mend your clothes!"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop..."
Zhang Jinling was one of the "Three Golden Flowers" of the Beijing Film Studio, known for her roles in Reconnaissance Across the Yangtze, The Great River Flows, and Xu Mao and His Daughters.
She married and had children in the mid-1980s, retiring early and later taking up painting and calligraphy, studying under a disciple of Qi Baishi.
"Your skills are amazing, a hundred times better than mine. When we're back in Beijing, I'll come to you for help."
The shirt was quickly mended, and she joked, "Hey, did you hear from Director Wang? We're heading back in ten days."
"No, I didn't. What's going on?"
"The Literary Congress is at the end of the month. Director Wang and I are going."
"You're attending the Literary Congress? That's amazing."
Gong Xue's eyes sparkled with envy.
Zhang Jinling laughed, "Don't worry, once Romance on Lushan Mountain is released, you'll be invited too."
"That's not certain yet!"
"Of course it is. The film's quality speaks for itself. It's bound to succeed."
After Zhang Jinling left, her words left Gong Xue feeling both hopeful and anxious.
Of course, she wanted Romance on Lushan Mountain to succeed, but the thought of leaving in ten days also made her feel a bit reluctant.
...
"Xiao Chen!"
"Over here!"
When Chen Qi returned, he was called to the first-floor dining hall.
The party had ended, but a group of people were still sitting around, nibbling on leftover snacks like sunflower seeds and potatoes.
Since they had the next day off, everyone was relaxed.
"That song you sang earlier wasn't great!"
"You managed to turn The Toast Song into a howling mess!"
"My performance wasn't great today. I'll sing better next time. What are you all talking about?"
Chen Qi sat down, and Wang Haowei handed him a handful of sunflower seeds, smiling, "Just letting you know, the crew has officially decided to return to Beijing in ten days. A few of us, including me, will be attending the Literary Congress at the end of the month. We'll have about half a month off."
"So we'll resume filming in mid-November?"
"Yep, we should wrap up by December, right on schedule."
"Now that you mention it, I'm feeling a bit reluctant to leave."
"We all are. But we'll have chances to come back. Maybe when Romance on Lushan Mountain is released, we'll return."
Chen Qi nodded, casually asking, "There'll be a lot of people at this Literary Congress, right?"
"From what I've heard, around three thousand people. Artists, writers, musicians, dancers, and of course, filmmakers like us—everyone will be there."
Wang Haowei counted on her fingers, her face filled with anticipation.
"This is the first Literary Congress since the shift in cultural direction. Mao Dun, Ba Jin, Xia Yan, Ye Shengtao, Bing Xin, Zang Kejia, Bai Yang, Zhang Ruifang, Sun Daolin, Qin Yi, Chen Qiang, Xia Meng... you name it, they'll all be there!"
"Then you have to get me some autographs... Wait, what? Did you say Xia Meng?"
"Yeah, Fu Qi and Shi Hui are coming too! We owe a lot to them for the beautiful costumes in our film."
Wang Haowei referred to Xia Meng casually but added "comrade" when mentioning the other two.
"Wow, will I get to meet her?"
"You won't be able to sneak into the congress, but they might visit the Beijing Film Studio. You could meet them then."
"If I don't get to meet her, I'm blaming you!"
Chen Qi laughed, but his mind was already racing with thoughts.
The Literary Congress, officially known as the Chinese Literature and Art Workers' Congress, had its first session in 1949, the second in 1953, and the third in 1960. This was the fourth session, scheduled for October 30. Every session was attended by national leaders, showing just how important it was.
...
Meanwhile, while Lushan was hosting its National Day celebration, the Great Hall in Beijing was also holding an event.
On New Year's Eve in 1979, ballroom dancing, which had disappeared for years, suddenly reappeared at a government party.
This was a sign that dancing might soon be allowed again.
But people were still cautious, dancing in secret.
By National Day, the government held another event, making their stance even clearer.
Among the attendees was a special guest—Wang Shuo.
Wang Shuo was a medic in the North Sea Fleet in Qingdao.
He had gotten a ticket to the event while home on leave, and what he saw completely changed his perspective.
He saw countless young men and women dressed in fashionable clothes, dancing the waltz.
The hall was filled with the sounds of The Blue Danube and Tales from the Vienna Woods.
It was all very unfamiliar to him.
In this era of confusion, where conservatism and openness clashed, as Wang Shuo later wrote:
"I felt that the world had changed. My once-proud military uniform was now outdated. The people dancing were wearing high heels, bell-bottoms, nylon shirts, and had permed hair. They wore digital watches and even spoke English. When I returned to the army, I stopped writing applications to join the Party. I no longer rushed to clean the toilets or wash my comrades' clothes to show how diligently I was learning from Lei Feng. I told my superior that I could get my hands on a Japanese-made color TV. With three thousand yuan earned from growing kelp, I went to Guangdong to start trading color TVs..."
(End of Chapter)