121 A woman's intuition is truly formidable; she hits the mark the moment she settles on it.

Cheng Xuemin never imagined that Feng Jiayou, in an effort to please his mother-in-law, had actually planned to give half of his secret stash to her.

"Are you the editor for *Harvest*?"

Upon hearing Cheng Xuemin's question, Li Xiaolin cast a charming glance and replied with a smile, "Yes! I was just transferred to *Harvest* at the beginning of the month, and the first submission I received was yours!"

"Your manuscript, *The Traitor*, is well-written. It resonates strongly with the 'reflection literature' proposed by Old Qian a while ago!"

"If it weren't for the fact that *The Herdsman* was published in *Beijing Literature* before ours, *The Traitor* could very well have been the pioneering work of the reflection literature movement!"

Li Xiaolin's assessment of *The Traitor* hit the nail on the head, and Cheng Xuemin nodded inwardly. The piece he had paid tribute to, *The Traitor*, might sound like a spy thriller on the surface, but it was anything but. It was actually one of the most powerful works of reflection literature to follow *The Herdsman*, eventually winning the first prize for the best short story in that genre for the year. If *Scars* was the work that carried forward the "scar literature" legacy of *The Headmaster*, then *The Traitor* was undoubtedly the seminal work following the reflection literature of *The Herdsman*, holding great representative significance for that era.

That was why Cheng Xuemin had been so confident when sending it directly to *Harvest*; he knew it would be accepted! But who could have guessed that after waiting for so long, he would end up with both the veteran editor-in-chief of *Harvest*, Old Ba, and the chief editor, Li Xiaolin—father and daughter—showing up at his door? Moreover, judging by Li Xiaolin's tone, she didn't seem to know that he was the author of *The Herdsman*.

"Xiaolin, little Cheng here is Old Xu, the author of *The Herdsman*!"

"And he’s not just Old Xu; he’s also Old Qiao, the author of *Director Qiao Assumes Office* in *People’s Literature*!"

"We met little Cheng at Old Wu's office that day! Old Wu’s instructions were to use his *Director Qiao Assumes Office* as our benchmark! We should try to steer our future submissions in that direction."

Seeing that his daughter was still unaware that the author of *The Traitor*—known as Old Liu—was the young pioneer singled out by Old Wu, Old Ba smiled and dropped the hint. After all, both of these highly reflective manuscripts were written by this young Comrade Cheng!

"Ah?! Xuemin, you are Old Xu, the author of *The Herdsman* and the leading figure of reflection literature?"

"And you're also Old Qiao, the reform pioneer handpicked by Old Wu for *Director Qiao Assumes Office*?"

Just moments ago, Li Xiaolin had been chatting with Feng Jiayou and her mother in the courtyard, paying no attention to the conversation inside the main room. Now, hearing her father claim that these recent, highly impactful manuscripts were all written by the man before her, she was left absolutely dumbfounded and stunned.

"I..." Cheng Xuemin was speechless, unsure how to respond to the editor's utter shock.

"Ahem!" Just as Cheng Xuemin struggled to find a humble way to reply, Old Tang, that old rascal, coughed, clearly preparing to drop another bombshell.

Sure enough, before Cheng Xuemin could stop him, the old man said, "Little Cheng hasn't just written those few pieces. I recall you were originally transferred from *Shanghai Literature and Art*, weren't you, Xiaolin?"

"Not just those?!" Li Xiaolin was even more shocked. She nodded repeatedly and said, "Old Tang, I was indeed at *Shanghai Literature and Art* before. I only transferred to *Harvest* early this month, and the first piece I accepted was Cheng's *The Traitor*!"

"That's right! I seem to remember that at the beginning of the month, little Cheng received a reply from you at *Shanghai Literature and Art*, didn't he?"

This old man really knew how to build suspense. His memory was ridiculously good, wasn't it? At the beginning of the month, Cheng Xuemin had received a sample copy of *Women's College Dormitory* and a payment slip from *Shanghai Literature and Art*, addressed by Li Xiaolin. Did this old man really have such an uncanny memory?

"Early this month, I sent a letter from *Shanghai Literature and Art* to... yes, that's right. When I was still working there, I accepted a manuscript called *Women's College Dormitory* and sent it to a new author named Kuang Yalan at Yan University!"

"What, Old Tang, you remember that too?" Li Xiaolin's face was filled with horror; she couldn't process why Old Tang was suddenly bringing up Kuang Yalan and *Women's College Dormitory*.

"Exactly! Kuang Yalan is also little Cheng!" Old Tang puckered his lips, looking triumphantly at Cheng Xuemin.

"Ah?! You're also Kuang Yalan, Xuemin?!"

"But... shouldn't it be a female student who writes about the happenings in a women's dormitory?"

Li Xiaolin, like everyone else, had assumed Kuang Yalan was a female student at Yan University. She never expected the author to be the man standing right in front of her. As for Feng Jiayou, she had already confessed everything in the room earlier. But Mother Feng looked at her "excellent" son-in-law with a complex expression. Just how many good manuscripts had he been hiding from her, his mother-in-law?

As an editor, Mother Feng had naturally followed *Women's College Dormitory* in *Shanghai Literature and Art*, as it had caused quite a stir. She, too, had believed it was written by a female author—perhaps a senior at Yan University, as Feng Jiayou had once mentioned. To have it revealed now by Old Tang that it was her own son-in-law! A grown man writing about a women's college dormitory so realistically, as if he had lived through it himself!

Father Feng, having been warned by the earlier conversation between Old Tang and Old Ba, knew his son-in-law's passion for building his "little treasury" was relentless. But even he hadn't expected the scale of it.

Chen Shumin, who had been smiling apologetically throughout, was already numb. He had thought that being the first to discover Cheng Xuemin was the author of *The Herdsman* meant he had seen through the kid, but he hadn't realized the boy's depths were this profound. Every single piece was a landmark work: *The Herdsman* (the pioneer of reflection/scar literature), *Director Qiao Assumes Office* (a political task for reform), *Women's College Dormitory* (the beginning of the "student genre" of reflection literature), and now *The Traitor*.

"Old Tang, I... I never said you were forgetful, so why did you sell me out like that?!" Cheng Xuemin groaned. This old man was far too "disrespectful to his elders." Why was it so hard to just build a small secret stash?

"Yes, yes, I am indeed forgetful. If you hadn't reminded me, little Cheng, I might have forgotten another one!" Old Tang ignored Cheng Xuemin's misery and prepared to drop another bomb.

"Old Tang, you're talking about *Loess Plateau* in *Yanhe Literature*, aren't you?" This time, before Old Tang could speak, his wife, Feng Jiayou, took the lead and asked.

Cheng Xuemin turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a desperate plea for mercy. How did she guess everything without him even confessing?

"Right! That's the one, *Loess Plateau*! That was also written by little Cheng!" Old Tang laughed. "You're quite sharp, Jiayou! How did you not notice this kid hiding so many pseudonyms from you? He must have been secretly stashing money!"

"No, Old Tang, I knew about all these manuscripts! I helped him proofread them word by word. He wasn't hiding any secret money from me!"

"Wife..." Cheng Xuemin was stunned and deeply moved. At crucial moments, his wife was the one who really stood up to shield him! This wasn't the first time; when *The Herdsman* was exposed and he faced his mother-in-law's interrogation, it was his wife who had taken all the responsibility. Now, she was doing it again!

"Does she really know?" Father Feng wondered, while Mother Feng remained suspicious. Father Feng, however, saw through it all, silently praising his daughter for not letting her husband lose face in front of outsiders.

"You knew, Jiayou? Then why have I never seen you go to collect the payment slips with him?" Old Tang asked, unconvinced.

"Hehe, Old Tang, I'm pregnant, so it's not convenient for me to run around," she replied. That was a powerful excuse, and Old Tang had nothing more to say.

"You wrote *Loess Plateau* for *Yanhe Literature* too?!" Old Ba was moved as well. He had discussed this very piece with Old Mao just days ago, and Old Mao had praised it highly for its authentic portrayal of rural life. He had assumed it was written by some seasoned veteran from Northern Shaanxi, not this young man.

"Old Ba, you flatter me," Cheng Xuemin said, standing up to show respect. "It's just stories about my father's generation that I've heard and seen, then compiled. I don't deserve such high praise from you and Old Mao."

"It's an excellent work nonetheless," Old Ba nodded, then looked at Father Feng. "Jingren, you've gained a wonderful son-in-law!"

"Old Ba, you are too kind!" Father Feng replied, his face beaming. "Xuemin is indeed a good man."

Hearing this recognition from his father-in-law moved Cheng Xuemin deeply, and Feng Jiayou’s eyes welled up with tears. It was a rare moment indeed.

With the "public execution" over, Mother Feng began preparing lunch. Li Xiaolin then approached Cheng Xuemin and Feng Jiayou privately. "I never imagined that Kuang Yalan, the author of *Women's College Dormitory*, was you, Xuemin! Since you mentioned it in your submission letter, I am now officially commissioning a work from you on behalf of *Harvest*! The theme should be about reform—as a young pioneer, you are the perfect fit."

"Of course, Sister Xiaolin. Even if you hadn't asked, I'm already working on a novella, and I planned to send it to you once it's finished!" Cheng Xuemin nodded, though he was still reeling from his "little treasury" being exposed.

"Really? You're already writing it?" Li Xiaolin asked happily. "Could I take a look at the opening?"

"Of course, Sister Xiaolin, please wait a moment, I'll... go get it!" Cheng Xuemin stood up, but seeing the sharp, warning look from Feng Jiayou, he hesitated. If he went back into the room, she would surely follow and interrogate him!

"Sister Xiaolin, please sit, I'm going to the restroom!"

As expected, Feng Jiayou followed him. "Wife, listen to me, I'll explain everything one by one, okay?! I'll take out all the payment money; it's all inside, I haven't spent a single cent!"

As soon as she locked the door, Cheng Xuemin backed away, tripping over the bed frame and falling onto the bed.

"You said you were suffering from writer's block and needed my help to find inspiration! What about this novella?" Feng Jiayou demanded, closing in on him. "I've been working so hard to help you find inspiration, and this is how you repay me? By using the inspiration we created together to build a secret stash?"

"No, no, no! Wife, listen to me, it's just the beginning, I really haven't been hiding it from you..."

"Fine," Feng Jiayou said, deciding to deal with the "little treasury" later. She reached under the pillow and pulled out the thick *Marxism-Leninism* textbook. "Come, sit here, Xuemin. Let's reconcile the numbers. There's still a discrepancy of two hundred yuan."

"Wife, a discrepancy?! I really haven't spent a cent, the money is all here, how could there be a discrepancy?" This was a disaster. All his pseudonyms were exposed, and now she said the numbers didn't add up!

"We'll see if you spent it or not!" She patted the bed, signaling him to sit. "Reconcile it with me! *Women's College Dormitory*—twenty-seven thousand words..."

"One hundred and eighty-nine yuan!" Cheng Xuemin answered instantly; he remembered every fee clearly.

"And *Loess Plateau*—assume thirty thousand words at seven yuan per thousand..."

"The magazine was poor, they only paid six yuan per thousand—one hundred and eighty yuan!" he corrected her quickly.

"What about Sister Xiaolin's *The Traitor*? How long is it and what's the rate?"

"I don't know! You saw it yourself, Sister Xiaolin hasn't given me the payment slip yet!"

"Then there's a discrepancy of three hundred yuan! What other magazines have you submitted to?"

Cheng Xuemin froze. He had forgotten about the three hundred yuan he’d earned from illustrations! He had been so focused on his writing income that he’d completely overlooked it.

"Illustration! Wife, I've been drawing illustrations the past few days, that's where the three hundred came from!"

He tried to pass it off, but when Feng Jiayou reached under the mattress and pulled out a sample copy of a *Journey to the West* comic book, Cheng Xuemin knew his game was up. Was this the end of his secret stash empire?