Chapter 19: Submitting The Tree King, The Chess King Script Approved

Li Yonggang pedaled the old branch secretary’s Phoenix-brand bicycle. The wheels spun happily along the country path, carrying Lin Junsheng toward the town at a brisk pace.

Originally, Li Yonggang had intended to take the commune’s old tractor into town, as it would have been both faster and less strenuous. However, when he broached the request to the old branch secretary, he was politely turned down. The old man’s sharp eyes seemed to pierce right through him, and with a faint smile, he said, "Yonggang, the tractor is the commune’s treasure; it can't be used at whim. But, for Junsheng's sake, I'll lend you my bicycle."

At these words, Li Yonggang’s heart blossomed. The old secretary’s bicycle was his pride and joy—he rarely even rode it himself. To have it lent to him was a tremendous honor. He cast a grateful glance at Lin Junsheng, who was sitting on the back rack, clutching an envelope tightly. Inside that envelope was his meticulously revised manuscript for *King of Trees*, which he intended to mail to *Shanghai Literature* at the town post office today.

Li Yonggang, however, had developed a keen interest in the envelope. He asked curiously, "Brother Junsheng, who are you sending that letter to?"

Lin Junsheng was slightly taken aback, but a faint smile played on his lips. "Why are you so nosy? This is my private business; why would I tell you?"

But Li Yonggang was like a child whose curiosity had been ignited; he wasn't about to pass up this chance to uncover a secret. "Oh, come on, Brother Junsheng, tell me! Is there someone you like in another county?"

In this era, sending letters was common, but for them as rural folk, they had no relatives in other counties or provinces. It was indeed unusual, so Li Yonggang’s curiosity was not entirely unfounded.

Lin Junsheng found himself at a loss for whether to laugh or cry. Li Yonggang usually seemed so honest and steady; why had he turned into such a gossip, like a chattering old woman? "I… just focus on your riding and stop worrying about things that don't concern you." He tried to use a commanding tone, but it had little effect.

"Brother Junsheng, just tell me! Who is it? Is it that educated youth who came to our village a few years ago?" Li Yonggang persisted.

At the mention of her, an image of that female educated youth surfaced in Lin Junsheng’s mind. Fair-skinned, beautiful, and long-legged—those descriptors were not an exaggeration. Back then, she had been the center of attention in the entire village; every man, young or old, would cast a second glance her way.

After the resumption of the college entrance exams, she had returned to the capital. Rumor had it she had even been admitted to a university there, becoming a true intellectual. Lin Junsheng gave a bitter smile at the thought. He was only a junior high graduate; how could he ever hope to aspire to someone like her?

Still, he couldn't let Li Yonggang know about his manuscript submission. Not even his mother or sister knew. Whenever he received mail, he simply claimed it was from a friend he knew, and his sister, Lin Junwan, never pressed for details.

"If you keep pestering me, I’ll add another two hundred to the bride price and see if you can still afford to marry her," Lin Junsheng said, feigning anger in an attempt to make Li Yonggang back down.

It worked. Li Yonggang immediately wilted. "Don't, Brother Junsheng, I'll stop, won't I? Please, don't raise the price; my meager frame can't handle that." He looked pained, his face a picture of supplication.

Lin Junsheng asked, "How much have you saved up? Is it enough for the wedding?"

Li Yonggang looked a bit sheepish. "The money my family has scrimped and saved over the last few years only adds up to about two hundred yuan. My parents are still trying to borrow money everywhere to see if we can scrape together five hundred. Even if we do, I haven't the slightest clue what to buy for the 'big items.'"

Lin Junsheng had already thought this through. He smiled and explained, "Of the 'three rounds and a sound,' the best is the bicycle. For us country folk, it’s essential for travel and errands. Think about it: riding a bike with your new bride on the back—how glorious that would be!"

Li Yonggang’s eyes lit up, but then he looked worried. "Doesn't a bike require a coupon to buy? In our neck of the woods, those are hard to come by."

Lin Junsheng said with full confidence, "Don't you worry, leave it to me. The village gets a quota for bicycles every year. I have a good relationship with the old branch secretary, and I'll get a coupon for you. But you have to save up that five hundred yuan first; otherwise, having the coupon is useless."

Li Yonggang looked at him with profound gratitude. "Brother Junsheng, you’re my savior! I’ll make sure to scrape that five hundred together as fast as I can to bring Xiao Wan home!"

The two continued their bumpy journey until they reached the town. Li Yonggang parked the Phoenix bike, and they walked into the post office together. It was bustling and noisy inside. Li Yonggang went to the counter with his passbook to withdraw his money, while Lin Junsheng slipped his manuscript envelope into the mailbox. He had already attached the stamps and sealed the envelope with rice paste at home; now, he only had to wait for a reply.

"Well now, isn't this the boy from the Lin family?" A familiar, weathered voice rang out behind him.

Lin Junsheng turned to see a middle-aged man in a green postal uniform looking at him with a smile, holding a heavy, military-green mailbag. He recognized the man—the town mailman who spent his days riding his "twenty-eight" heavy-duty bicycle through the streets and alleys, including deliveries to their village. All the mail Lin Junsheng had ever received had been delivered by him.

"Uncle, it's you!" He hadn't expected the busy mailman to remember him.

The mailman nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "I knew your father. Years ago, when my old ox got sick, it was your father who cured it. It's just a pity... good people don't always have long lives." His expression dimmed, seemingly lost in painful memories.

Lin Junsheng felt a pang of sadness, but he didn't want to linger on it. "Uncle, is there something you needed today?"

The mailman snapped back to reality, tapped his forehead, and laughed. "Almost forgot. I have a piece of mail for you." He reached into his bag and handed a letter to Lin Junsheng.

Lin Junsheng took it and checked the address. His heart raced; it was from the Shanghai Film Studio. The contents were likely news that his screenplay had been accepted. He thanked the mailman profusely. The man waved, walked to the door, mounted his bicycle, and continued his rounds.

Lin Junsheng clutched the letter tightly and walked to the entrance. Turning into a quiet alley, he couldn't wait any longer and tore open the envelope. The elegant handwriting confirmed it: his screenplay had been accepted.