虎嗅

A food delivery rider has won the Lu Xun Literature Prize

原文:一位外卖骑手,获得了鲁迅文学奖

Core Summary

Wang Jibing, a food delivery rider, has become the first food delivery worker to win the Lu Xun Literature Award for his poems that document his delivery experiences and life reflections. His creative journey has been full of twists and turns: he stopped writing in his early years due to his father's opposition, picked up the pen again in middle age to cope with life’s pressures and loneliness, using the pseudonym “Shifang” (Scavenger) to remind himself not to forget the hardships of life and to turn the fragments of everyday experiences into poetry. His poems serve not only as an outlet for his personal emotions but also help resolve family conflicts, giving voice to the ordinary people—just as he says, contemporary literature no longer focuses solely on the elite; instead, it allows the “silent majority” to shine like stars.

Detailed Analysis

1. From “Burning Manuscripts” to “Literary Award”: How Difficult Was His Writing Journey?

Wang Jibing’s dream of writing was nearly shattered by his father. In 1992, obsessed with writing novels, he even dressed in white to immerse himself in his characters (a taboo in the countryside), which led to criticism from his elders. In a fit of anger, his father burned all his manuscripts and demolished the small cottage where he wrote. To get married and support his family, he agreed to stop writing for 25 years.

However, the seed of creativity never died: he continued to write in secret after marriage, discarding his works immediately after completion. While working as a street vendor and scavenging, he would read old books. In 2009, when his family bought a computer, he began writing poems anonymously on QQ Space (without adding his wife as a friend). It was only later, when he submitted his work again using the pseudonym “Shifang,” that he truly took off.

When his father found out about his writing, he said, “I’ve wasted so many years of your life,” which moved Wang to tears. Eventually, he transformed from a literary youth opposed by his father into a “food delivery poet” who won the Lu Xun Literature Award—a journey that took nearly 30 years.

2. Behind the Pseudonym “Shifang”: How Does Hardship Become Sweet Poetry?

The name “Shifang” has two meanings: first, he actually scavenged for a living—when he first arrived in Kunshan and couldn’t make enough money from vending, he collected used cardboard boxes and beverage bottles to sell, sometimes earning more than from his street business. Second, writing is like scavenging—transforming the hardships, fatigue, and grievances of life into heartfelt poetry.

For example, once, after making three mistakes with a customer’s address and climbing 18 floors in frustration, he wrote “The People in a Hurry”: “Driving out the wind from the air / Driving out the knives from the wind / Driving out the fire from the bones / The people in a hurry have no seasons / Only this stop and the next one.” Writing about such moments made him feel better; “It’s all worth it when there’s poetry as compensation.”

He also turned his observations during scavenging into poems: for instance, after returning home at midnight with a flat tire, he wrote “The Midnight Peddler,” comparing himself to a “stubborn tree”; upon seeing the old cemetery in his hometown transformed into a lawn, he wrote “Metaphor,” preserving the memories of his ancestors. These poems are not mere complaints but reflections of real feelings drawn from life.

3. Poetry as Both Pain Relief and Family Bond

Wang Jibing believes that writing is an outlet for pain. His wife initially opposed his writing, saying it was unmanly, which made him feel lonely. But as he continued to write and won awards and prizes (such as using a 3000 yuan prize to buy her a 5000 yuan mink coat), her attitude changed—she realized that writing was not meaningless.

His relationship with his father also improved through poetry; after his father’s death, Wang would often send him poems and voice messages on WeChat as if they were having a conversation. In one poem, “Father and Son,” he wrote, “I reach out to touch the weeds on the grave / Imitating my father’s wheat seedlings,” expressing his guilt and longing for him through his words.

Even his children have changed their views: his daughter initially cried against his work as a food delivery worker but later searched for articles about him; her son would share his poems on social media, saying, “These were written by my dad.” Poetry has become a bond that brings them together.

4. The Label “Food Delivery Poet”: A Window or a Restriction?

Wang Jibing is clear about the label “food delivery poet”: “It’s a window that shows people the writing of ordinary people, but it shouldn’t define us.” He acknowledges that people may be surprised by a food delivery worker writing poetry, but he knows that, despite the label, he remains the same person. Poetry critics say his achievements go beyond being a food delivery worker, but he remains humble: “I’m just an amateur who’s written thousands of poems; it’s normal for a few to be good.” He avoids joining rider groups and reads when he’s not delivering, maintaining his own pace. For him, the label is an opportunity to let more people see the writing of ordinary people, but he doesn’t want to be confined by it—writing is his way of life, not an additional role.

5. The Power of Ordinary People: The Significance of His Award Goes Beyond Literature

What’s most touching about Wang Jibing’s award is that it shows that ordinary people can also shine. He says, “Literature used to be like a pyramid, but now it’s like a starry sky.” In the past, literature seemed exclusive to the elite, but he proves that food delivery workers, scavengers, and street vendors can all create powerful poetry.

His poems lack fancy rhetoric; they are filled with everyday details—the hardships of delivering orders, his father’s silence, his mother’s prayers, the coldness of scavenging. These details give voice to the “silent majority”—not because they can’t express themselves, but because no one listened before. Now, his poetry shows that ordinary lives contain the most genuine poetry.

As he says, “Stars are more fascinating than the sun and the moon.” Every ordinary person can be a star in their own life.

This story isn’t just about a food delivery poet winning an award; it also illustrates that no matter how difficult life is, we can find our own light—for Wang Jibing, that light is poetry. For us, it could be anything we passionate about; as long as we persevere, we can grow and shine.