12: They have keen insight into the subtle and profound, and their understanding is far-reaching and far-sighted.

The third day after the essay competition ended was Monday.

A minor earthquake occurred throughout the entire literary circle of Jiang City.

The epicenter was the judging panel of the Qingyun Cup essay competition.

Namely, Chairman of the Writers Association Wang Shouyi and Jiangcheng University literature Professor Li Yuanchao.

These two heavyweights of the Jiang City literary scene had slammed their hands on the table and turned against each other on the spot over a high school student's essay.

Wang Shouyi was so enraged that he walked out of the session.

Not only that, he also left behind harsh words: as long as he remained Chairman for a day, that "poisonous weed" of an article would never win an award.

This news quickly spread through various Writers Association member groups and literary enthusiast forums.

For a time, everyone was asking what kind of extraordinary essay could possess such immense power.

"Have you heard? Professor Li completely fell out with Chairman Wang over that essay!"

"What was actually written? How could it make Old Wang that angry?"

"I heard from a friend who was there that the topic was 'Hope,' but the student wrote a dark dystopian story and completely extinguished hope at the end!"

"Holy crap, that's intense! Are high schoolers these days really playing it this bold?"

"The article is called firefly, and the author is a student from Jiangcheng No. 1 High School named Lin Que.

It's said Professor Li gave it perfect scores from both categories on the spot, saying it was the best student essay he'd seen in the last ten years, bar none!"

"So, did it win an award in the end?"

"It's looking grim! Chairman Wang made it clear that whoever dares to let this article win is making an enemy of him.

It'll probably just be given a consolation prize at best, or it might even be dropped entirely."

All sorts of rumors were flying around, pushing the names firefly and Lin Que into the eye of the storm.

Countless people were bursting with curiosity, wanting to catch a glimpse of this legendary masterpiece—or poisonous weed.

Shen Qingqiu's phone hadn't stopped ringing since Sunday.

It was all messages from colleagues and friends in the Writers Association, subtly asking her about Lin Que and that essay.

"Qingqiu, what's the deal with that student of yours? He really got under Chairman Wang's skin."

"Little Shen, can you privately send me a copy of firefly to look at? I'm so curious!"

All day long, she didn't know how many times she had said, "I'm not sure," or "I don't have it either..."

She was feeling very troubled.

On one hand, Li Yuanchao's intense admiration for Lin Que made her feel a sense of shared pride, confirming her own judgment.

On the other hand, the conflict between Lin Que's rebellious style and the traditional literary world represented by Wang Shouyi made her deeply worried.

She feared that this uncut gem, Lin Que, would be smashed like a common stone before he even had the chance to shine.

During Monday's morning self-study, Shen Qingqiu walked into the classroom, her gaze habitually sweeping toward Lin Que's seat.

That boy was slumped over his desk, seemingly... sleeping?

Shen Qingqiu's temples throbbed twice.

This guy—the outside world was arguing itself hoarse over him,

yet he was perfectly fine, even having the heart to catch up on sleep during morning self-study.

Just how big was his heart?

She suppressed the urge to throw a piece of chalk at him and cleared her throat:

"Begin morning reading! Let me hear your voices!"

The whole class immediately picked up their Chinese textbooks and began reading aloud.

Only Lin Que slowly raised his head.

He let out a yawn before reluctantly picking up his book and pretending to move his lips.

He wasn't sleeping; he was resting with his eyes closed, planning his next move.

After showing his hand to his parents yesterday, the results were better than expected.

The impact of two million yuan was large enough that they didn't have the heart to delve into the details of the "holographic game script."

This morning, Wang Xiulian and Lin Jianguo had taken time off work.

They said they were going to the bank to confirm things and would stop by some real estate developments in the city center.

Lin Que was happy for the peace; his mind was now entirely occupied by his "studio" and his next work.

The success of the human world is like a prison was only the first step of his plan, the accumulation of original capital.

While it could bring immense fame and wealth, it was ultimately web literature that couldn't enter the halls of high art, and was even viewed by many as "spiritual opium."

He needed another identity.

A bright, great identity that could be accepted and even worshiped by the mainstream literary world.

An identity that would allow him to put out works like To Live and One Hundred Years of Solitude in the future without being questioned.

He needed a brand-new Jian Shen,

a name diametrically opposed to the madness and darkness of the Hell Dream Weaver.

This name had to be low-key enough,

like an undercurrent beneath deep waters, not showing its hand,

yet containing enough power to subvert everything.

Lin Que's fingers tapped unconsciously on the desktop as his gaze fell on the silent skyline outside the window.

He thought of two characters: "Jian Shen."

Insight into the subtle, far-reaching vision.

To hear thunder in the silence, and see blossoms in the colorless.

He would be called Jian Shen.

This name was worthy of the warm and great story he was about to begin.

And the first shot fired by "Jian Shen" had to be loud and beautiful.

The work he had chosen was the healing masterpiece by Keigo Higashino from his previous life—The Miracles of the Namiya General Store.

This work had too many advantages.

First, it was warm, healing, and filled with the radiance of humanity.

Second, its structure was exquisite, using letters to link several seemingly independent stories through intersecting time and space; the concept was brilliant.

Finally, its core was about choice and redemption, full of positive energy.

It was perfect for countering the accusations of dark thoughts from the likes of Wang Shouyi.

Use the warmest story to launch the brightest identity.

Simply perfect.

He had also decided on the submission platform: the city's top pure literature journal—New Tide.

New Tide magazine had been in publication for nearly a century.

It was a temple of serious literature, and countless literary masters took pride in having their work published there.

Li Yuanchao was one of the special editorial board members for New Tide.

If The Miracles of the Namiya General Store could make it into New Tide,

then the name "Jian Shen" would essentially stand at the top of the pyramid overnight.

"Lin Que!"

His deskmate Wu Di nudged him with an elbow and whispered:

"Brother Que, have you heard?

The article you wrote for the essay competition offended the judges, so it looks like you won't get an award."

This news had already spread among the students.

"Oh."

Lin Que's reaction was flat.

"Oh? Just an 'oh'?"

Wu Di got anxious.

"Brother! My dear brother! That's ten thousand yuan! Do you know how many skins that could buy? And you just say 'oh'? Doesn't your heart ache?"

Lin Que glanced at him, thinking: Ten thousand yuan? Do I care about that now?

"It doesn't ache."

"Fine, you're the man."

Wu Di was completely sold and gave him a thumbs up.

"By the way, Zhang Ya and the girls in the front row are all saying you were just being a show-off, and now that you've hit a brick wall, you deserve it."

Lin Que followed his gaze.

Sure enough, he saw the Study Representative Zhang Ya huddled with several girls, looking his way from time to time with expressions of schadenfreude.

Lin Que didn't bother to pay them any mind.

A summer insect cannot speak of ice.

Quarreling with them was beneath him.

What he needed to do now was find a suitable house as soon as possible and set up his studio.

Throughout the entire morning, Lin Que was "daydreaming."

His mind had already begun to construct the opening of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store.

The Namiya General Store, the three thieves, the milk box... those familiar scenes flashed through his mind one by one.

When school let out at noon, he was just about to head to the cafeteria when Shen Qingqiu stopped him.

"Lin Que, come to my office for a moment."

Shen Qingqiu's expression was very serious.

Lin Que followed her to the office; no other teachers were inside.

Shen Qingqiu closed the door and turned to look at him, her beautiful eyes filled with incredibly complex emotions.

There was scrutiny, curiosity, worry, and even... an admiration she hadn't noticed herself.

"Sit down."

She pointed to the chair opposite her.

Lin Que pulled out the chair and sat down with a calm expression, looking as if he were waiting for a lecture.

"You've heard about the essay competition, right?"

Shen Qingqiu began.

"Yes, I heard."

"You have nothing to say?"

Lin Que smiled, a very faint smile:

"Teacher, when a group of people argue over whether the light of a firefly is bright enough, is it really the firefly that's in the wrong?"

"You!"

Shen Qingqiu was irritated by his completely unbothered attitude.

"Wipe that grin off your face! Do you have any idea what kind of status Chairman Wang Shouyi holds in the Jiang City literary world?

You've offended him; if you want to walk this path in the future, it will be very difficult!"

"Teacher, when did I ever say I wanted to walk this path?"

Lin Que asked in return.

Shen Qingqiu was stunned.

"I write things just for fun.

If they like it, they can read it; if they don't, then forget it.

As for winning awards or literary status, I don't care."

Looking at him, Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness.

She had prepared a bellyful of words to warn him, to guide him,

and to tell him to restrain his sharp edges and learn to adapt to the rules.

But now it seemed that these words were all quite laughable in front of this youth.

He simply didn't care about the rules of this world.

He was a world unto himself.

"However, Professor Li Yuanchao admires you very much."

Shen Qingqiu changed the subject, her voice softening slightly.

"He asked me to tell you not to lose heart because of this setback. He thinks you are the hope of our Jiang City literary world."

"Hope?"

Hearing this word, Lin Que couldn't help but laugh.

"Teacher, do you think an author who was almost labeled a poisonous weed can become the hope of the literary world?"

His smile carried a trace of subtle mockery.

Looking at his impervious-to-reason appearance, Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt

that all her worries and warnings were like punching cotton.

The professor's description of him as a "monster" echoed in her mind as she looked at the youth's indifferent smile.

An uncontrollable impulse finally overcame the professional reserve of a teacher.

She had to see for herself exactly what that firefly, which had set off such a massive wave, looked like.

"Your... firefly."

She asked almost subconsciously.

"Can I see it?"