Chapter 52: Royalties
After finishing the eighth class, Li Heng hurried straight to the English teacher’s house.
By then, Chen Xiaomi and Zou Ping were already there. Wang Runwen was helping the two by brewing tea, pouring water, and chatting with them.
As he appeared at the door, the three of them simultaneously turned their heads, and the lively conversation in the living room instantly fell silent.
After changing his shoes, Li Heng calmly walked over and sat down, apologizing, “Class just ended; sorry to keep you both waiting.”
With the formalities over, he wasted no time and got straight to the point: “Regarding the print-run royalties, what have you two decided?”
Li Heng looked at Chen Xiaomi, who remained silent.
Zou Ping, however, spoke happily: “The publishing house insists that the contract for the regular issue pays 30 yuan per thousand characters. If the influence is significant, then royalties kick in only after the print run for the single novel edition exceeds 300,000 copies.”
Three hundred thousand copies for a single book?
If the book is priced at 3 yuan, that means 45,000 yuan in royalties.
Wow!
Forty-five thousand yuan in the 1980s!
Such a staggering sum, comparable to millions in later years—it startled him unexpectedly.
Though he didn’t understand the literary market of this era well, a print run of 300,000 seemed challenging, but the returns were solid.
Still, Li Heng felt that “Harvest” was very considerate to him; after all, the contract for the regular issue guaranteed payment at 30 yuan per thousand characters, securing his manuscript fee without risk.
Hearing Zou Ping’s words, Chen Xiaomi frowned slightly, finding it incredible that “Harvest” magazine would really carve out a special exception for a newcomer.
Even if that exception was somewhat conservative, they had not shortchanged Li Heng, paying him at the highest industry standard upfront.
She recalled that when she reported the matter to the chief editor, there was a long silence on the other end before the call was abruptly ended, with no further discussion.
Under Zou Ping’s expectant gaze, Li Heng didn’t hesitate and readily agreed.
Next came the much-anticipated signing of the publishing contract. Having once been a businessman, Li Heng carefully reviewed the agreement, found no issues, then signed and stamped it.
“Mr. Li, welcome to the ‘Harvest’ family. The 4,050 yuan manuscript fee will be in your hands within a week. We hope you’ll consider us first for future works.”
At the moment the contract was signed, Zou Ping breathed a huge sigh of relief and warmly shook his hand.
“Thank you, Editor Zou!” Li Heng responded sincerely, shaking his hand firmly.
His words were genuine, with no hint of perfunctory politeness.
After all, “Harvest” valued him, granted him special privileges, and paid his manuscript fee without skimping.
For such generosity and integrity, he would remember it for a lifetime.
What he didn’t know was that the reason “Harvest” treated him so leniently was that Mr. Ba, moved by Li Heng’s youthful talent and the quality of “To Live,” had taken a liking to him.
Though at 30 yuan per thousand characters, the 4,050 yuan fee for “To Live” seemed substantial, for a major magazine like “Harvest,” it was just a small gesture—barely a scratch.
Of course, “Harvest” was not naive; they had their calculations.
If “To Live” gained enough influence to warrant a standalone volume and surpassed 300,000 copies, the revenue for the magazine could reach millions, making the payment to him quite reasonable—a win-win situation.
The question was whether “To Live” could achieve such impact.
Li Heng himself was uncertain.
“Harvest” was equally unsure.
Everything remained unknown, awaiting the future.
Zou Ping left happily, his arms full, walking away with a spring in his step.
At the school gate, Li Heng watched his retreating figure, muttering to himself, “Damn it! Five percent royalties still feel too low.”
But he knew this couldn’t be rushed; the fact that they made an exception for him was already monumental.
Once he wrote a second good novel and had more confidence, he would negotiate for a higher rate.
From the moment Zou Ping agreed to the print-run royalties, Chen Xiaomi knew her chances were gone.
Yet, she did not leave immediately; instead, she watched the absurd scene unfold with curious eyes.
Indeed, royalties seemed a wildly unconventional and absurd notion to her—no one had ever mentioned or dared to ask for them before.
And now…
More astonishing and unbelievable was that the inexperienced Li Heng not only asked but that Mr. Ba actually agreed.
It was almost unimaginable!
If this leaked out, who knew what a storm it would cause.
She guessed it was Mr. Ba’s doing because no chief editor alone would dare risk the interests of all publishers.
Only someone like Mr. Ba, a transcendent figure, would be unafraid.
At that moment, Chen Xiaomi’s feelings toward Li Heng were more complex than ever.
A sudden thought sprang to her mind: if she had known he possessed such prodigious talent last summer, she might not have opposed the match so fiercely; she might even have persuaded her elder sister-in-law to accept Aunt Run’e’s proposal.
Aunt Run’e... that was such an old-fashioned title, long unused.
Noticing Li Heng’s gaze, Chen Xiaomi composed herself and unexpectedly said to him:
“You’re incredible; everyone else has underestimated you.”
By “everyone,” she meant the entire Chen family and the gossiping women of the village.
She could hardly imagine the sensation if news spread that Li Heng had become a great writer.
How dramatically would the villagers’ attitudes change?
Probably, the once deserted Chen family home would become bustling again.
After all…
Few people nationwide could produce a work rivaling “To Live.”
Chen Xiaomi didn’t know why she had had the sudden urge to praise him, but the words were out and she could not take them back, so she kept her expression indifferent.
Li Heng was a bit stunned, thinking he must be hallucinating.
Ha! This woman complimenting him to his face?
Was this some kind of international joke?
To know, in both this life and the last, this woman had never spoken well of him before—this was like the sun rising in the west!
He wanted to say thank you but instinctively only nodded.
They exchanged a glance without further words. Chen Xiaomi politely thanked the English teacher and then left without looking back.
Once the motorcycle carrying Chen Xiaomi disappeared down the road, Wang Runwen teased, “Not bad, you’ve conquered an enemy.”
That’s just the beginning!
The women of the Chen family were not so easily won over.
But the English teacher—now he was impressive.
Li Heng glanced back reflexively, then quickly turned to enter the school gate.
Wang Runwen crossed his arms and coldly watched him from behind.
He almost cursed aloud: “Are all the folks from Shangwan Village crazy? Women like that, men like this.”