Reborn in 1977

It has to be said that the food at the service stations has always been terrible, from ancient times to the present.

After tasting a bit of everything, Chen Fan didn't bother with the flavor. He quickly devoured all the food, wiped his mouth, and left.

He got in the car and continued on his way.

After consulting the map and asking for directions, he finally found the place more than half an hour later.

But it was just the general area.

The location of the Jiangnan Literature Magazine, in modern terms, was in the CBD area, surrounded by various provincial government departments, as well as People's Square, Cultural Palace, the First Department Store, Xinhua Bookstore, various restaurants, and so on.

The area where the magazine was located was the cultural district.

Chen Fan looked at the map, circled a dark building, lingered at the entrance of the Workers' Cultural Palace, and finally attracted the attention of a guard who directed him to drive down a small alley to a one-story building with a parking lot.

The parking lot was even concrete!

So extravagant.

This was the Cultural Palace Guest House, where the conference participants checked in.

So Chen Fan still hadn't found the magazine office.

It wasn't too late yet. The iron gate of the courtyard wasn't closed, and the lobby of the guest house was lit, but there was no one to be seen.

Chen Fan got out of the car without taking his luggage and walked straight over.

From the outside, the conditions here didn't seem very good. If the rooms inside were also bad, he planned to leave and stay in a cadre room at the Health Department's guest house.

Anyway, he would never mistreat himself.

It was also snowing in the provincial capital, but not as heavily as in Yunhu. Only a few snowflakes were falling, melting almost as soon as they hit the ground, with little impact on traffic.

If it had been heavy snow all the way from Yunhu to the provincial capital, even with Chen Fan's driving skills, he wouldn't have been able to travel quickly.

Because of the cold weather, the door of the guest house was naturally closed.

Chen Fan stood at the door and peered inside a few times, then pushed open the glass door. ... Of course, it wasn't the pure glass door of later generations, but a wooden door with glass embedded in it. The lower half was pure wood, and the upper half was like a window. This was very common in the 1990s. People standing outside could see inside through the glass.

Then a woman suddenly appeared in front of him, looking at him through the glass, "What do you want?"

She was wearing a long blue cotton coat, blue pants, black leather shoes, and a liberation cap made of the same material. It was clearly a complete uniform.

Chen Fan was startled and instinctively shrank his neck. "I'm here to register."

"Register?"

The woman opened the door, and the light shone out, illuminating Chen Fan. She couldn't help but brighten her eyes and sized him up, her tone becoming much more polite. "Are you here to attend the Federation of Literary and Art Circles working conference?"

Then she held out her hand. "Where are your letter of introduction and invitation letter?"

Chen Fan immediately took out his credentials from his pocket and handed them over. "This is the invitation letter, this is the unit's letter of introduction, and this is my work permit."

The woman took them and looked at the invitation letter first. "That's right, Jiangnan Literature Magazine is also one of the organizers and has the right to invite people."

She suddenly paused as she looked at the letter, raised her head to look at Chen Fan strangely, and then quickly looked at the unit's letter of introduction and work permit.

After quickly scanning them, she quickly raised her head, her eyes full of surprise. "Are you Luwan Chen Fan?"

Chen Fan blinked. "If it's Chen Fan from Lujiawan, then it's me."

The woman looked very happy. "That's you then. Isn't it Luwan that you write about in your works? So everyone calls you Luwan Chen Fan."

Chen Fan was a little confused. Who is 'everyone'?

The woman extended her right hand and said generously, "Hello, Writer Chen. I'm a front desk attendant at the Cultural Palace Guest House. You can call me Xiao Peng."

Chen Fan blinked again, reached out and shook her hand. "Hello, Xiao Peng."

Hey, Attendant Xiao Peng, can you let me in first?

Xiao Peng then realized that she was shaking hands with Chen Fan through the door. Her face immediately turned red, and she turned around to invite him in. "Please come in. I'll check you in."

After Chen Fan walked in, she trotted to the front desk, took out the registration book, and said, "The registration time for the conference is from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM. During this time, people from the organizers will be responsible for reception. If you miss the time, you can only check in here first and then be connected with the relevant person in charge tomorrow morning."

Soon, she registered Chen Fan's information, returned his credentials to him, and said, "However, Editor He from Jiangnan Literature Magazine is also staying here. He shouldn't be asleep at this hour. Do you want me to notify him?"

Chen Fan shook his head without thinking. "No need. There's nothing important anyway. We can talk tomorrow."

"Okay."

Xiao Peng took a key, walked out, and said, "I'll take you to your room."

As soon as she finished speaking, she looked at Chen Fan strangely. "Didn't you bring any luggage?"

Chen Fan said "Oh" and turned to point outside. "The luggage is in the car. I'll go get it."

He turned to walk outside.

Xiao Peng curiously followed behind. When she came out of the door and saw Chen Fan taking a backpack out of a Jeep, she couldn't help but widen her eyes. "You drove here yourself?"

No wonder she seemed to hear the sound of a car just now. Writer Chen can actually drive?

Chen Fan came back with his backpack, smiled modestly, and said, "I just happened to have learned how to drive. The unit arranged a car."

Xiao Peng couldn't help but give a thumbs up. "Writer Chen is really talented!"

Chen Fan, "A little bit, a little bit."

Entering the door again, Xiao Peng led him inside, through a door, and there was actually another courtyard behind.

Chen Fan suddenly understood, realizing that the Cultural Palace Guesthouse couldn't possibly be just a small bungalow.

Behind this courtyard, there was also a three-story building, its layout similar to school dormitories of later generations, with a staircase in the middle and corridors along the outer walls on both sides, with rooms lining the corridors.

At this moment, most of the rooms were dark, with only a few lit up.

Little Peng didn't go upstairs, but directly led him to a room on the first floor and said softly, "The first floor is the most convenient. There are no mosquitoes in winter. This building was just completed half a year ago. The leadership demanded high standards at the time, so we referenced the rooms of foreign affairs hotels and built bathrooms inside, with hot water too."

While speaking, she had already opened the door and entered the room, turning on the light. Chen Fan saw the furnishings inside.

It was indeed a high standard. There was a bathroom right at the entrance, redwood flooring, and inside the room, besides the bed, there was also a desk, sofa, coffee table, and a large wardrobe.

If one of the beds could be removed, turning the double room into a single room, Chen Fan would be even more satisfied.

Little Peng handed the key to Chen Fan and smiled, "Writer Chen, I won't disturb your rest. Breakfast will be served in the cafeteria at 7:00 AM tomorrow, ending at 9:00 AM. Don't be too late, or you'll miss the meal."

Chen Fan smiled and nodded, "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

Little Peng waved her hand, reluctantly leaving.

Chen Fan saw her out and locked the door before going to the bathroom to wash up.

After taking a shower and wrapping himself in a cotton coat, he lay on the bed, bored, and looked at the time. It was only a little past 7:00 PM.

Was he really going to sleep so early?

But besides a telephone in the room, there wasn't even a radio. He hadn't brought any books either, so he had nothing to do to pass the time.

Oh, a telephone?

Chen Fan jumped out of bed, walked behind the desk, sat down, and looked closely at the telephone. Sure enough, there was a small card next to it.

Hmm, it turned out to be an internal telephone, only able to call other rooms within the guesthouse, not outside lines. To make an outside call, you had to apply to the guesthouse.

He had been thinking of calling the Jiang family, but it seemed impossible.

He yawned regretfully. Forget it, he might as well just sleep.

Just as he was about to get up, the telephone on the desk suddenly rang.

Chen Fan was startled, staring blankly at the telephone. Who would be calling at this hour?

Could it be that Little Peng couldn't sleep and wanted to chat with him at night?

Shaking his head, Chen Fan picked up the receiver, "Hello, who is this?"

A middle-aged man's voice came from the receiver, "Is this Comrade Chen Fan?"

Chen Fan's eyes flickered slightly, and he hesitated for two seconds before saying, "Yes, this is Chen Fan."

A burst of hearty laughter suddenly came from the other end, "Hello, Comrade Chen, I am He Qingsheng, the editor-in-chief of Jiangnan Literature Magazine."

Chen Fan raised his eyebrows slightly, "So it's Editor He, hello, hello."

He Qingsheng laughed heartily, "Hello, hello, I'm sorry to bother you so late. I was just looking for Little Peng about something and heard her say you had arrived, so I wanted to chat with you. I don't know if it's convenient?"

Chen Fan chuckled dryly, "Convenient, convenient. I just happen to be unable to sleep. How about this, which room are you in? I'll come over to visit you?"

Jiangnan Literature Magazine was a provincial-level publication. The president was a director-general level cadre, and the editor-in-chief or chief editor was a deputy director-general level cadre, the same level as the deputy director of Yunhu Prefecture.

He, a small deputy section chief, was separated from him by a full three levels. The difference was not small.

Moreover, as the editor-in-chief of Jiangnan Literature, he could almost be regarded as the leading figure of Jiangnan Province's literati, or at least one of them. Would Chen Fan dare to say "inconvenient" to such a person?

Not to mention convenient, even if it was really inconvenient, he would have to say it was convenient.

And it was best to visit him himself, rather than have him take the initiative to come over.

Fortunately, this Editor-in-Chief didn't stand on ceremony. Hearing Chen Fan's words, he immediately laughed and said, "No need, no need. I'm in the front hall. It's also convenient for me to come over to find you."

After a pause, he added, "I'll come over now."

Before Chen Fan could say anything, he hung up the phone with a snap.

Chen Fan put down the receiver, patted his head, and then looked around. He took two cups from the coffee table next to him to make tea, and then walked to the door and opened it.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw a middle-aged man in his fifties striding up the steps. Before he even reached the door, he stretched out his right hand, as if he was about to knock.

Without needing an introduction, Chen Fan guessed that this man was He Qingsheng, and immediately took two steps forward, extending his right hand from afar, "Hello, Editor He, I am Chen Fan."

He Qingyun quickly walked two steps forward, grabbed Chen Fan's hand, shook it vigorously, and looked at Chen Fan with a face full of surprise, "Hello, hello. Although I knew you weren't old, judging from your appearance, you shouldn't be even twenty years old yet?"

All along, he and Chen Fan had only been in contact through writing, and mainly discussed manuscripts, so he didn't know much about Chen Fan's situation.

It was only just now in the front hall that he heard Little Peng say that Writer Chen was a very young man.

Although he was mentally prepared, he was still very surprised when he saw Chen Fan's appearance.

At the same time, he couldn't help but be a little skeptical. Were those sophisticated articles really written by this young man?

Seeing that Editor He was so direct, Chen Fan smiled and said, "I'm 18 this year, so I'm indeed not yet 20 years old."

Well, having turned 17 and entering 18, he never lied.

Then he let go of his hand, stepped aside to open the door, "Editor He, please come in and talk."