102: Who defined the mainstream?

Inside the Xu Ji Old Duck Soup Restaurant,

"Click—click—"

The sound of camera shutters created a continuous flash of light.

Facing the cameras and microphones practically shoved in his face, along with the reporters' aggressive questioning,

Lin Que unhurriedly pulled out a tissue and wiped a non-existent grease stain from the corner of his mouth.

"As a student who previously won the first prize winner, was leaving mid-session an intentional act to humiliate the Su Province Writers Association?"

"Student Lin Que, please explain yourself!"

The reporter pressed on.

"Explain?"

Lin Que tossed the tissue accurately into the trash can, as if he had heard a joke.

"I was starving inside the venue,

I came out and spent ten-odd yuan on a bowl of soup to survive. This is called humiliating the Writers Association?

If I hadn't come out to eat, would starving to death inside be considered respecting teachers and valuing morality?"

The reporter paused, then quickly adjusted his attack:

"Please don't change the subject! We are asking about your attitude!"

"I am merely stating a fact.

It is you who insists on turning the act of eating into a political issue.

Isn't that a bit too much bullying of us high school students?"

The shop fell silent for a moment, then erupted in noise.

"Exactly, they're making such a big deal out of eating."

"The young man is right. No matter how important your meeting is, can it be more important than filling your stomach?"

The reporter was embarrassed by the laughter,

his face alternating between green and white... "But you used the word 'fraud' at the conference!"

A reporter from the second row pushed his way to the front, practically shoving the microphone into Lin Que's mouth.

"You accused a senior Editor-in-Chief and a Provincial Writers Association director of committing literary fraud.

Isn't this an extreme form of attack?"

The surrounding diners stopped eating and craned their necks curiously.

The boss stood at the kitchen entrance holding a strainer, looking utterly confused.

Lin Que smiled.

This is what reporters are like.

They don't care what you ate;

they only care if they can scrape out a scrap of meat from between your teeth that can ignite a trending topic.

Even if it means taking things out of context or maliciously misinterpreting them,

as long as it brings traffic, they don't mind calling black white.

He didn't take the bait, which was full of traps.

He simply pointed to the empty bowl in front of him, which only had soup residue left.

"I know you're in a hurry, big brother. Take a look at this bowl of soup."

The reporter was stunned and subconsciously pointed the camera at the greasy bowl.

"This bowl of duck blood vermicelli soup is heavy on oil and heavy on chili,"

Lin Que's voice was measured and calm.

"According to the standards of many purists or health experts,

this stuff is unhealthy and non-traditional."

"But look, this place is packed. Everyone is sweating profusely and saying how satisfying it is."

Lin Que stood up, his youthful figure appearing straight as a pine tree under the dim yellow light.

He looked directly into the camera, a slight smirk on his face.

"Editor-in-Chief Fang wants us all to drink plain boiled water, telling us that is the most sophisticated taste.

But my classmates and I happen to love this heavy-flavored duck blood soup.

We think this is the taste of being alive."

"If speaking the truth is an attack, and choosing a flavor you like is an act of defiance."

Lin Que spread his hands, looking innocent.

"Then consider me defiant.

After all, the mouth is on my body, and the stomach is mine too,

I can't just starve myself to death to cater to the so-called 'mainstream,' can I?"

"Hear, hear!"

Someone in the corner shouted,

followed by sparse but exceptionally sincere applause throughout the restaurant.

The reporter was choked speechless by this "duck blood vermicelli soup theory," his face turning green.

He was about to change his approach and continue harassing Lin Que.

"That's enough!"

Just then,

the cotton door curtain of the small shop was violently thrown open.

Shen Qingqiu, breathless, pushed her way through the crowd.

She had been restless in the hotel lobby.

Seeing the reporters rush out of the venue like madmen, she chased after them without a second thought.

She first glanced at Lin Que, confirming he was unharmed,

before her tightly wound nerves snapped, turning into towering fury.

Shen Qingqiu shoved the camera lens away.

She positioned herself directly in front of Lin Que,

her usually serene face now covered in frost.

"Which media outlet are you from? Do you have permission to interview?"

Shen Qingqiu's voice was as stern as the Dean of Students giving a lecture.

"Student Lin Que is still a minor and a student at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School!

Your ambush interview, conducted without the consent of his guardian and the school, has already infringed upon his legal rights!"

"Teacher, public figures have an obligation to accept supervision..."

The reporter tried to argue.

"He is just a student attending a literary forum! He is not a public figure!"

Shen Qingqiu stood her ground, her gaze sharp.

"This interview ends now!

If you continue to harass him, I will immediately call the police,

and contact the Provincial Department of Education to accuse you of disrupting normal educational order!"

Upon hearing the four words "Provincial Department of Education," coupled with Shen Qingqiu's intimidating demeanor,

the reporters' arrogance immediately deflated.

After all, this forum was official in nature; if things escalated, they wouldn't be able to handle the consequences.

"Let's go!"

Shen Qingqiu didn't give them time to react.

She grabbed Lin Que's arm and pulled him outside.

It wasn't until they walked out of the noisy alley of Old Gate East and the cold wind hit them,

that Shen Qingqiu's tense shoulders finally relaxed.

She let go of Lin Que, turned around, and glared at him fiercely.

"What exactly happened to you at the venue? How did you end up holding a press conference!"

Lin Que rubbed his wrist and approached her with a cheeky grin:

"Teacher, the way you blocked them just now was really cool. You had the style of a heroine."

"Stop fooling around!"

Shen Qingqiu gave him an exasperated look,

but the anger in her eyes had long dispersed, replaced by a deep sense of helplessness and lingering fear.

"Hurry up and go back to the hotel to pack.

I don't think we can stay in Jinling anymore. We're going back to Jiangcheng first thing tomorrow morning!"

The two walked back along the tree-lined path outside the Zijin Mountain Villa.

The sky was already darkening, and the streetlights stretched their shadows long.

As they neared the hotel entrance, Lin Que suddenly paused.

In front of the hotel's massive revolving door, there were not the usual taxis,

but a single black Audi sedan parked alone.

The license plate was ordinary, but the red pass sticker on the front window was strikingly conspicuous under the streetlight.

The people inside the car seemed to notice their approach.

The car door opened.

A middle-aged man wearing a dark jacket got out of the front seat,

quickly walked to the back, and opened the rear door.

Following him, two white-haired, distinguished-looking elderly men slowly stepped out.

One of them wore a Zhongshan suit, idly rolling two walnuts in his hand. His face was gaunt, but his eyes were astonishingly bright.

The other wore a suit and gold-rimmed glasses, appearing refined and amiable.

Shen Qingqiu's steps froze instantly, and her breathing hitched for a moment.

As a member of the Jiangcheng Writers Association,

how could she not recognize these two faces that frequently appeared in textbooks and Writers Association documents?

Chairman of the Su Province Writers Association, Gu Changfeng.

Executive Vice Chairman of the Su Province Writers Association, Liang Wenyou.

These two were the true pillars of the Su Province literary scene!

Why were they here?

Were they here to hold Lin Que accountable for causing a scene at the forum?

Shen Qingqiu's heart leaped into her throat instantly, and a strong sense of unease surged within her.

She subconsciously wanted to shield Lin Que behind her,

but found that Gu Changfeng's gaze had already pierced the night and landed precisely on them.

There was no anger in his eyes; instead, there was a trace of gentle amusement?

"Chairman Gu... Chairman Gu, Chairman Liang."

Shen Qingqiu steeled herself and walked forward, her voice slightly trembling from nervousness.

"It's so late. Are you two..."

"You must be Teacher Shen?"

Liang Wenyou smiled and nodded, his demeanor so kind it felt like a spring breeze.

"No need to be nervous. We aren't here to cause trouble.

We are here waiting for Student Lin Que."

...