116: Ghost Detective

Storms on the internet often come and go quickly.

But some storms are destined to evolve into a long-lasting typhoon.

Just two hours after "soul ferry" was released,

the flame war regarding "clout-chasing" and "plagiarism" had entered a fever pitch.

Although the high-quality content of the first chapter made many readers exclaim how good it was,

there was still a small group of die-hard Jian Shen fans

who believed that Dream Weaver's act of using a similar title when a competitor's popularity was at its peak was a lapse in business ethics.

Just then,

a long post titled "The Art of Bloodsucking: A Critique of the Speculation in 'soul ferry'"

was pushed to the front pages of major literary forums.

The poster's ID was "Cold-Eyed Observer," known in the circle for his sharp tongue.

[...I don't deny that Dream Weaver is talented, and Zhao Li's setting is stunning. But talent isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card!

Using an extremely similar title and a contrary concept to 'clout-chase' when a competitor is at their peak,

that's not a tribute—that's bloodsucking! It's blatant commercial parasitism!

If this behavior is tolerated, who will bother with original work in the future?

Everyone might as well just open a branch under a Great Master's title!

Master Jian Shen's silence is a mark of his character, but we cannot let that character be used as capital for some people's shamelessness!]

This post was logically sound; it acknowledged talent while occupying the moral high ground,

instantly becoming the guiding document for the anti-"Dream Weaver" camp.

"See! Even Great Master Cold-Eyed says it's an insult!"

"Dream Weaver's behavior is just bloodsucking! We must boycott!"

Just as public opinion was about to lean one-sidedly again,

the New Tide magazine's official Microblogging platform, which had been silent, suddenly updated its status.

No lawyer's letter, no stern condemnation.

Only a picture and a short sentence.

The picture was an ink wash painting of a surging river,

with a small boat drifting downstream, while deep in the dark forest on the riverbank,

an old jeep's headlights were on, piercing through the mist.

Caption:

[Two answers regarding 'ferrying':

Someone raises a torch on the wasteland, for love and courage, going against the current—

this is Master Jian Shen's "the ferryman," a fairy tale for the living.

Someone lights a cigarette in a late-night convenience store, for obsession and regret, seeing someone off—

this is Dream Weaver's "soul ferry," an elegy for the dead.

The world of literature is vast; it can accommodate the warm sun of heaven and the glimmer of hell.

As Master Jian Shen said: Two flowers on one stem, each blooming in its own way.

I am also curious, what does the ferryman in hell look like? @Hell Dream Weaver]

As soon as this post went out,

the once noisy comment section experienced a brief vacuum, followed by an explosive wave of reposts.

[Holy crap! Is this the breadth of a Great Master's mind?!]

[I'm still on the first floor cursing people, while Master Jian Shen is already in the atmosphere enjoying the view!]

Not just the fans, but even several influencers who had followed the trend of criticism silently deleted their Microblogging platform posts.

Xu Lan looked at the interaction data surging in the backend,

turned to look at Wang De'an, her eyes full of admiration:

"Editor-in-Chief, this move is brilliant. Not only did it defuse the crisis, but it also raised the prestige of 'the ferryman' significantly.

The direction of public opinion has completely changed; everyone is praising Master Jian Shen for his grandmaster-like grace."

The tide of public opinion shifted subtly in an instant.

What was originally a tense crusade turned into a collective celebration of Jian Shen's character and magnanimity.

Even many people who were originally uninterested in horror novels, because of Jian Shen's words,

decided to check out what kind of book "soul ferry" was to have earned the original author's recognition.

However, amidst this peaceful praise, that "Cold-Eyed Observer" popped up again.

He replied in his own comment section:

[Master Jian Shen is indeed magnanimous, but this only highlights Dream Weaver's arrogance.

The senior has already extended an olive branch, yet as the party that caused the controversy,

Dream Weaver has had no response so far, not even a thank you.

With this kind of arrogant attitude, I'm afraid he won't go far.]

This comment was like a thorn, piercing the hearts of some rational fans.

That's right, the original author even spoke up for you; why are you playing dead?

Thus, the comment section broke into an argument again.

"Dream Weaver Great Master might be coding and hasn't seen it!"

"An excuse! How many minutes does it take to post a Microblogging platform?"

"He writes books based on his ability, why should he bother with this superficial socializing?"

"This is called being rude! Master Jian Shen gave him face!"

Seeing the two groups of fans about to clash again, the official Microblogging platform of New Tide magazine actually replied under "Cold-Eyed Observer's" comment.

[New Tide Magazine]:

The charm of literature lies in diversity, and also in the vast differences in authors' personalities.

Some authors are as gentle as jade, while others are as wild as fire.

We respect every creator's way of expression, and we ask everyone to focus more on the work itself.

This "biased" way of mediating was simply a stroke of genius.

It maintained Jian Shen's noble image while cleverly portraying Dream Weaver as a wild, untamed genius,

dissolving the accusations of rudeness and transforming them into "personality."

Wang De'an stared at the constantly jumping popularity index on the screen,

his tense shoulders finally relaxing.

He closed his laptop and tapped the cover twice with his fingertips.

This fire had finally spread from the readers' emotions to the eyebrows of the capital.

Meanwhile, in the grade 11, class 3 classroom of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School,

Lin Que looked at his phone screen, his lips curling up unconsciously.

"That 'Cold-Eyed Observer' is quite interesting,"

Lin Que thought to himself.

"Although he's nitpicking, every strike hits the main artery of traffic; he's good material for a hype man."

Just as he was thinking, the sound of high heels clicking on the floor suddenly came from the front door of the classroom.

That was the oppressive rhythm unique to the class teacher.

The students who were still whispering about the plot instantly fell silent,

each burying their heads in piles of books, pretending to be in a life-and-death struggle with math, physics, and chemistry.

Shen Qingqiu walked into the classroom.

Today, there were faint dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept well last night.

She stood still at the podium, tightly clutching her lesson plan folder.

Her gaze didn't scan the class as usual;

instead, it pierced straight toward the window seat in the back row, her expression so complex it was hard to read.

"Lin Que."

This call-out made the hearts of the whole class leap into their throats.

Wu Di frantically bumped Lin Que's thigh with his knee under the table,

his eyes screaming, "It's over, it's over, you must have been caught reading a novel during morning self-study."

Lin Que was calm, standing up slowly:

"Present!"

"Come to the office with me."

Shen Qingqiu finished speaking and turned to leave, crisp and neat.

The classroom instantly boiled over.

"I told you! The bird that sticks its head out gets shot!"

"It's definitely because he was too high-profile in the essay contest,

or he was caught looking at his phone just now."

"Brother Que, take care! We will miss you!"

Lin Que ignored the sympathetic gazes around him,

stuck his hands in his pockets, and followed her out unhurriedly.

The wind in the corridor was a bit cool, carrying the scent of damp earth.

Shen Qingqiu walked ahead, her pace not fast, as if she were thinking about something.

When they reached the office, the other teachers had gone to class, and the room was very quiet.

Shen Qingqiu sat down behind her desk,

and pointed to the chair opposite her.

Lin Que sat down as instructed, his gaze sweeping across the desk.

On top of a neat stack of lesson plans lay a few sheets of A4 paper,

their corners slightly curled, clearly having been flipped through many times.

Shen Qingqiu looked at Lin Que, a never-before-seen hesitation in her eyes.

"Lin Que, the atmosphere in the class has been a bit restless lately."

Shen Qingqiu spoke, her voice not loud.

"Everyone is discussing ghosts and gods, discussing that Convenience Store No. 444.

As your class teacher, I should have banned these 'idle books' from the classroom and even confiscated your phones."

Lin Que raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't speak, waiting for what came next.

"But..."

Shen Qingqiu paused, reached out to pick up those printed pages, and handed them to Lin Que.

"Before confiscating them, I'm used to first understanding

exactly what it is that has my students so obsessed."

Lin Que took the papers.

They were the latest chapters of "soul ferry."

"ghost detective"...