Chapter 25

In the early morning, Yuan Yujun arrived at his office. The secretary had already cleaned the office, prepared a cup of strong tea for him, and neatly arranged the newspapers he needed to read on the table. The air conditioner had been on for a while, and the room temperature was around 26 or 27 degrees, very comfortable.

Yuan Yujun sat down in his chair, wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, and sighed contentedly.

He was the deputy director of the Literature Institute of H Province, a first-class national literary creator, and a well-known writer in the province. At forty-five, he was still considered a relatively young writer.

However, Yuan Yujun's reputation in the literary circle of H Province was not good.

According to public opinion, he had reached his current position and published books one after another through flattery and sycophancy. He was originally a creator at a cultural center in a county, but by attaching himself to a few powerful figures and being adept at flattery, he was repeatedly promoted and eventually made it to the provincial level, becoming the deputy director of the Literature Institute.

Many upright writers in the circle despised him.

Many people privately commented that his works were still at the level of amateur authors.

In other words, he hadn't even passed the language test, and his works were shallow and vulgar, barely readable.

Rumors spread, and naturally, they reached Yuan Yujun's ears.

He was very angry and wanted to prove himself with high-quality creations, to show that his first-class national literary creator status was not undeserved and that his creative level was indeed high.

Therefore, Yuan Yujun had been very diligent recently. Every day at work, he would read a few newspapers and then sit down to focus on writing. Besides writing novels, he also wrote short stories and essays, producing one or two pieces every day, which he would then send to several local newspapers.

The newspapers would often publish his articles out of respect for him, and almost every day, his work would appear in print.

This was considered very productive.

He believed that the quality of his works was very high, the ideas profound, and the artistic value rich.

Each time he read his articles published in the newspapers, he would read them over and over again.

The more he read, the more he felt that his writing was classic, interesting, and that every sentence had extraordinary meaning.

Others in the Literature Institute also praised his articles highly, which made Yuan Yujun very pleased. He believed that all the praise was sincere and heartfelt. He really did write well!

Yuan Yujun took a sip of tea and habitually picked up the newspaper on the table to read.

He always read the literary supplement first.

He suddenly remembered that he had sent two articles to the evening paper a few days ago, but they hadn't been published yesterday. Would they be published today?

So, he picked up the Z City Evening Paper first.

Actually, Yuan Yujun didn't often submit articles to the evening paper because, as the deputy director of the Literature Institute and a well-known writer, he had to maintain his dignity and wait for the editors to solicit his work. How could he actively submit articles?

That would be too undignified.

However, that damned Liu Zelai, just a small editor, had never once solicited articles from him.

Every time Yuan Yujun thought about this, he became furious.

Each time he flipped through the literary supplement of the Z City Evening Paper, he would look at it with disdain and mutter, "What kind of garbage articles are these? They are insulting the readers' intelligence!"

A few days ago, he couldn't hold back and sent what he considered his best two short articles to Liu Zelai. He wanted to show him what a good, elegant, and beautiful short article looked like!

If Liu Zelai didn't publish his articles even after he submitted them, it would mean that Liu Zelai had a grudge against him.

That would be a real slap in the face.

Did he think Yuan Yujun was someone to be trifled with?

What qualifications did a small literary supplement editor have to look down on him? Just a small literary supplement editor with a little bit of power to publish articles, and he dared to abuse his authority and publish meaningless relationship articles?

This was too outrageous.

Yuan Yujun thought angrily and flipped through today's Z City Evening Paper literary supplement, scanning it roughly. His heart sank when he saw that his articles were still not published.

A sense of shame and anger welled up inside him.

I am a famous writer and the deputy director of the provincial Literature Institute, and I submitted articles to you, but you didn't publish them quickly. What are you trying to do?

Are you blind?

Even if your literary taste is lacking, can't you see the depth of my articles?

But can't you at least see my status and position?

Could the articles have been lost in the mail? Yuan Yujun's face turned dark, and he propped his chin in his hand, trying to find a reasonable explanation for this anomaly.

Just then, there was a knock on the door of Yuan Yujun's office.

The secretary walked in, "Director, your letter."

Yuan Yujun took the letter from the secretary and waved his hand, "That's all, you can go now."

The secretary left, and Yuan Yujun looked at the letter in his hand. It was from the Z City Evening Paper, and his brow furrowed slightly.

Why would the evening paper send me a letter?

Wouldn't a phone call to the office or my mobile phone be enough?

Yes, Yuan Yujun had a mobile phone, which in 1996 was a very impressive communication device. Walking down the street while talking on a mobile phone was very cool!

He opened the letter and started reading.

His face began to turn pale.

His eyes began to burn with anger.

His body began to tremble with rage.

"Rip, rip, rip—"

After finishing the letter, Yuan Yujun tore it into pieces and threw it on the table. This was a great humiliation!

Yuan Yujun never expected that this was a rejection letter. Yes, it was a rejection letter written by Liu Zelai, the editor of the Baihuatai literary supplement of the Z City Evening Paper.

The two articles Yuan Yujun had sent a few days ago were returned by Liu Zelai.

The letter said that the articles did not fit the style of the Baihuatai literary supplement and pointed out a series of problems: the writing was too detailed, the sentences were too verbose, the structure was unclear, and the content was very bland. Liu Zelai even "hypocritically" stated that these were not the best works of Deputy Director Yuan. If published, readers would underestimate Deputy Director Yuan's level, so after careful consideration, the articles were not published, and the original manuscripts were returned. He asked for understanding.

This was a slap in the face.

Wasn't Liu Zelai too inconsiderate?

No matter what, Yuan Yujun was a well-known writer in the province. How could he dare to reject his articles? Wasn't he afraid of retaliation?

Yuan Yujun paced around the office like a furious beast.

He was almost driven mad with anger.

Now, all he could think about was how to retaliate, how to make this small editor pack up and leave.

But no matter how he thought about it, he realized that it wasn't easy to deal with someone who wasn't in the same organization.

After a while, he calmed down, sat down, and started reading the Baihuatai literary supplement of the Z City Evening Paper on the table. That's when he saw Xiao Fei's column on the front page.