241: Chapter 241 The Prestige of the National Team

In July, the sun in Jiang City was so fierce it seemed like it would melt the asphalt roads.

Cicadas wailed in the treetops, and waves of heat carried the scent of dust,

steaming the Jiang City Writers Association compound like a giant sauna.

The newly appointed Chairman of the Writers Association, Chairman Lv Songran, stood at the entrance of the office building, a large patch of his shirt back already soaked with sweat.

He kept raising his hand to check his watch, while also trying to maintain his image from time to time,

pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the dense beads of sweat from his forehead.

Behind him, the staff members weren't faring any better,

each one scorched like a withered eggplant, yet forced to brace themselves and stand straight.

At the building's entrance, a giant banner with a red background and yellow characters looked particularly eye-catching in the hot wind—

—[A Warm Welcome to Chairman Xue of the National Writers Association for His Visit and Guidance—and the Theme Seminar on 'Learning from Comrade Jian Shen to Tell Huaxia Stories Well'].

The slogan was a bit grand, exuding the characteristic eagerness and urgency of the establishment.

"They're here!"

Someone shouted.

A low-profile Coaster minibus slowly drove into the compound,

the vehicle didn't even have any special passes displayed, looking no different from an ordinary government car.

Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Chairman Lv Songran trotted forward to meet it,

the anxiety on his face instantly switching to a humble yet enthusiastic smile.

The door slid open, and a man in a black short-sleeved shirt with a buzz cut jumped out first, his gaze like lightning as he scanned the crowd.

Then, a cloth shoe with a multi-layered sole stepped firmly onto the ground.

Chairman of the National Writers Association, Xue Hongchuan, was wearing a dark gray modified zhongshan suit; he wore no sunglasses and held no parasol, simply standing still under the scorching sun.

Though he just stood there casually, the restless welcoming party fell silent instantly.

Following behind him was the Vice Chairman of the Beijing Writers Association, Zhou Wenyuan,

and the Chairman of the Jiangsu Provincial Writers Association, Gu Changfeng, who had a deep connection with Jiang City.

The most powerful "Big Three" of the Huaxia literary world,

had actually gathered in the Writers Association compound of this third-tier city under the blazing sun.

"Chairman Xue, Chairman Zhou, Chairman Gu! It’s so hot today, thank you for your hard work, leaders!"

Chairman Lv Songran reached out with both hands to shake theirs, keeping his posture very low.

Xue Hongchuan smiled and waved his hand, his gaze drifting over Chairman Lv Songran's shoulder,

landing on that bright red banner, and he chuckled.

"Old Lü, you sure moved fast."

Xue Hongchuan pointed to the large characters on the banner that read "Learning from Comrade Jian Shen."

"Good awareness; this kind of atmosphere really should be promoted."

Chairman Lv Songran hurriedly wiped his sweat and smiled apologetically:

"Teacher Jian Shen is now Jiang City's gold-standard brand and a banner of our Huaxia literature; we must take this seriously."

Zhou Wenyuan, standing to the side with his hands behind his back, added:

"It's not just a Jiang City matter; this time it's a national event.

Tomorrow is July 8th. If we win this battle, we'll all be able to stand a lot taller."

The group didn't stay out in the sun for long, heading straight into a cool conference room.

The air conditioning was cranked up high, and tea had long been prepared—high-quality Mingqian Longjing.

After taking their seats, Xue Hongchuan took a sip of tea and got straight to the point without beating around the bush:

"Old Lü, since the banner is already up, let's skip those empty, superficial reports."

He set down his teacup, his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop with a rhythmic thud.

"The three of us old fogies came together this time under the guise of gathering inspiration, but you should know in your heart what it's really for."

Chairman Lv Songran leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped on the table, his tone certain:

"You're referring to the global release of 'the ferryman' tomorrow, right?"

"Exactly." Xue Hongchuan nodded, his expression becoming serious.

"This is another 'heavy-duty voyage' for our Huaxia literature. The Propaganda Department, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and even the higher-ups are watching."

"In the past, when we went abroad, the results weren't very ideal. This time, I hope it will be different."

Gu Changfeng took over, his tone tinged with emotion:

"That's why we're here—we want to meet this mysterious Jian Shen in person before the release.

To give him some support and encouragement. And by the way..."

He pulled a red-headed document from his briefcase and placed it on the table.

"This is a support policy specially approved by the higher-ups; consider it a gift for our first meeting."

By now, the intention was clear.

This was the national team stepping onto the field to deliver ammunition to their star player.

Xue Hongchuan looked at Chairman Lv Songran, his eyes bright:

"Is the meeting arranged?"

The conference room suddenly fell silent for a moment.

The smile on Chairman Lv Songran's face stiffened, showing a bit of difficulty mixed with a touch of craftiness.

"Chairman Xue, to tell you the truth..." Chairman Lv Songran rubbed his hands.

"I managed to coax Teacher Jian Shen's contact information out of Editor-in-Chief Wang of 'New Tide' half a month ago. But... I haven't dared to call."

"Haven't dared to call?" Zhou Wenyuan frowned.

"As you know, this Teacher Jian Shen has a... rather unique personality," Chairman Lv Songran said with a bitter smile.

"He didn't even show up at the last awards ceremony; I heard he's someone who prefers peace and quiet over social activities. I was afraid that if I called to arrange a meeting out of the blue, he'd refuse outright, which would be very embarrassing."

"And so?" Xue Hongchuan picked up his brow.

Chairman Lv Songran maintained his apologetic smile, his posture lowering even further:

"The leader sees clearly; I really had no choice.

This gentleman is usually as elusive as a dragon; if I called him myself, nine times out of ten I'd be turned away.

Today, I have to borrow the influence of you three; I figured he wouldn't find it easy to refuse your face.

This is called... well, 'courtesy costs nothing.'"

After hearing this, Gu Changfeng pointed at Chairman Lv Songran and laughed loudly:

"You sly old Lü, you've even schemed against us? You're kidnapping the leadership!"

"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare. It was a last resort."

Zhou Wenyuan, however, was somewhat worried:

"This is a risky move. Scholars have their pride, especially those with great talent; their tempers are usually eccentric. What if he really doesn't give us face..."

"If he doesn't give us face, then so be it," Xue Hongchuan said with a wave of his hand, appearing exceptionally open-minded.

"Liu Bei had to stand in the snow during his Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage. For the sake of a good work, why shouldn't us old bones play the role of Liu Bei for once?"

He tilted his chin toward Chairman Lv Songran:

"Make the call. Put it on speaker."

Chairman Lv Songran took a deep breath, as if heading to an execution ground.

He took out his phone, found the number labeled [Jian Shen (Private)], and pressed the call button.

"Beep—beep—"

The sound from the speaker echoed in the quiet conference room.

Everyone held their breath.

Those present were all literary giants; what scenes hadn't they seen?

Yet at this moment, they were all unexpectedly nervous.

They were dying to know what kind of person it was who had written the healing story of 'The Miracles of the Namiya General Store' and the warmth of 'the ferryman'.

It rang five times.

The call connected.

No expected "Hello" came from the speaker; instead, there was a gust of wind that sounded almost empty.

Following that was the distant, heavy chime of a church bell,

mingled with some indistinct snatches of German conversation and the sound of flocks of pigeons flapping their wings.

A moment later.

"Hello, who is this?"

...