Secretly, she switched to the frantic gold vault mode.

“Thank you, Jiayou. Once the payment slip comes in, I’ll treat you all to the braised pork in the cafeteria!”
Zha Jianying nodded shyly at Feng Jiayou, her face glowing with excitement.
“Hehe, then we’re in luck this time! Too bad my manuscript got sent back by Sister Bai Ling for revisions!”
Huang Beijia grinned foolishly, mentioning her own manuscript, which had been rejected by her editor Bai Ling for revisions—how frustrating! If only she could’ve had her piece published alongside Zha Jianying’s!
“Beijia, you’re already a seasoned author at Yanjing Literature. I was the one who introduced you to Sister Bai Ling! So just make the edits—maybe next issue she’ll pass you!”
Zha Jianying tried to comfort Huang Beijia. She herself had initially submitted to October, but after being rejected, she took Beijia’s advice and sent her work to Bai Ling at Yanjing Literature.
But the unexpected happened: while Beijia, the “veteran” with Bai Ling, didn’t get accepted, she, the newcomer rejected by October and submitting for the first time to Yanjing Literature, made it through!
Zha Jianying hardly knew how to console her.
“Let’s hope so,” Huang Beijia sighed. Thinking of Feng Jiayou, she asked, “By the way, Jiayou, has your mom passed your manuscript yet?”
“If not, why don’t you just do what Jianying did and submit to Yanjing Literature? Jianying made a few changes and Bai Ling approved her on the first go!”
At first, they hadn’t realized that Feng Jiayou’s mother was the senior editor at October magazine. When the semester started in September, Huang Beijia had already published something in Yanjing Literature.
Once Feng Jiayou and the others started writing, she let them read her finished piece for reference. Beijia thought it was decent and figured it would easily pass at Yanjing Literature if submitted.
But Jiayou instead chose to send hers to October, which had only recently resumed publication. They all assumed that, with the magazine just returning from a long hiatus, there would be a shortage of submissions and Jiayou would surely succeed by taking this “shortcut.”
Who could have expected that a manuscript likely good enough for Yanjing Literature would be rejected by October, freshly back from its break?
It was quite the shock for Beijia and Jianying.
Truly!
If Jiayou hadn’t suddenly submitted to October, none of them would have known the magazine was back! With hardly anyone aware of the relaunch, there must be a dearth of submissions and getting published should be easy, right?
They all regretted not having a ready manuscript to submit themselves.
But who would have thought—Jiayou’s piece was actually rejected. That couldn’t be! Was October, desperate for submissions, really so picky?
Later, after asking, they found out that Jiayou’s own mother was October’s senior editor, and the high standards and repeated rejections were her mother’s way of pushing her. Any manuscript of borderline quality would be sent back.
That’s when Beijia and the others finally realized Jiayou’s mother held that senior position.
From then on, they witnessed how Jiayou suffered her mother’s “special attention,” enduring the torment of endless revisions!
Having a mother as a senior editor, it seemed, wasn’t exactly an easy shortcut after all.

Had Jiayou revised her manuscript five or six times by now?
Still, it hadn’t been accepted!
Beijia and Jianying were truly impressed by the scholarly rigor of Yanjing families—the strict standards they upheld for their own children.
“Hehe, I haven’t told you both yet, but I did get published!”
“And my mom brought home the payment just last night!”
Feng Jiayou had planned to wait until the sample copy arrived before sharing the news at school. But since they’d asked, she could hardly keep it to herself and spoke with a giggle.
“You did?! Your mom finally passed you?!”
“Do you have the sample copy? Is it out yet? I’m dying to see what your final draft looks like after all your mom’s strict revisions!”
Beijia was stunned at first, then quickly pressed her for a look at the sample copy, genuinely curious about the final result that had finally satisfied her mother.
In Beijia’s opinion, Jiayou’s first draft had been quite good, and just a few edits should have sufficed.
But Jiayou’s own mother—her actual mother!—had rejected her four or five times!
“The sample copy will take a couple more days. I was going to wait for it to arrive before bringing it to show you both.”
Jiayou’s eyebrows arched with delight—so this was what it felt like to have an article accepted and published!
“Congratulations, Jiayou! You’d better treat us to a meal. Remember, we all agreed: whoever gets published has to treat the others to a celebration!”
Jianying, having also just been published, spoke with confidence.
They’d all made that pact when they started writing together. Beijia was already an established author at Yanjing Literature; Jiayou, though unpublished, had the advantage of a mother at October.
Jianying had felt it was a bit unfair, as she was the only newcomer, but now that she’d been published too, her perspective had completely changed!
“Of course! My husband’s been studying in the library these days, so let’s have lunch together in the cafeteria—our treat!”
“He’s been wanting to thank you for showing him the way the other day, Beijia! He’s wanted to treat you to a meal ever since!”
Jiayou grinned, ready to officially introduce her man to her two best friends.
If only they knew that the lead story in this issue of Yanjing Literature was written by her husband—she wondered how astonished they’d be!
“He’s here too? Then he really does owe me! You didn’t know, Jiayou, but that day your husband was waiting outside our classroom for you…”
The three women, chatting and laughing, walked off together into the distance.

Meanwhile, after dropping Jiayou off, Cheng Xueming rode his bicycle to the library.
But instead of starting on his own manuscript right away, he headed to the periodicals section to browse magazines and newspapers.
If he wanted to boost his chances of publication and build up his private savings, he’d need to “sharpen his tools before working.” Cheng Xueming figured he ought to get a general sense of the editorial preferences at all the major domestic journals.
Though “scar literature” was all the rage, and he could probably get published just by channeling a classic piece from his memory, he had much more to offer than just that genre.
Specializing in one type of subject matter felt monotonous—he needed variety to keep things fresh.
“People’s Literature,” “China Youth,” “PLA Literature,” “Yanjing Literature,” “October,” “Artistic Shanghai,” “Harvest,” “Yanhe Literature,” “Jiangcheng,” “Yellow River”…
He flipped through all the renowned journals, both national and regional, and also glanced at some newspapers to get a feel for their respective styles.
He paid special attention to Yanjing’s publications, cross-referencing what Jiayou had mentioned about their editorial preferences.
He found that “Yanjing Literature” and “October” were indeed a notch below “People’s Literature,” making them the second tier among Yanjing’s literary magazines.
The first tier were the national-level publications like “People’s Literature,” “China Youth,” and “PLA Literature”—easy to distinguish by their titles alone.
According to Jiayou, her classmates were all daring to challenge “People’s Literature” now!
But Cheng Xueming just chuckled at that.
After all, the payment rates were fixed nationwide, and getting into “People’s Literature” didn’t mean earning more than seven yuan per thousand characters. The only perk was the fame, since it was a national publication with greater influence and faster recognition.
But what Cheng Xueming wanted now was a well-stocked private fund—fame would only complicate things!
So he set his sights on regional journals with similar influence to “Yanjing Literature” and “October,” like “Artistic Shanghai,” “Harvest,” or even “Yanhe Literature” from his native Shaanxi.
Better to submit far from home—if he did become a minor celebrity, the news would only spread locally and wouldn’t reach Yanjing quickly, nor would Jiayou be likely to discover his secret.
Decision made!
He immediately began plotting his little financial empire: in the mornings at the university library, he’d write more of the novella Jiayou was supervising; in the afternoons, he’d secretly work on his own stash; and in the evenings, he’d submit to her watchful eye again.
With his speed, he figured he could “pay homage” to three to five short stories a month, sending them off to different journals and earning three or four hundred yuan in pocket money.
Three or four hundred a month would let him live in style—just thinking about it made him happy!
…