126: Hospitality

The person who stood up to cause trouble was the head of the third-year Chinese department, Yan Fang.

This old lady is a legend at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School, and it is not just because she is known for being strict.

No one knows how many palms have been struck by the ruler she holds in her hand.

Just last night during study hall, she had confiscated three printed copies of "soul ferry" from the class,

and even harshly scolded several top students who were engrossed in reading them, accusing them of having their brains corrupted by "internet trash."

Just before entering the venue, she was still giving the students a pep talk, telling everyone to learn from geniuses like Ye Xi who were influenced by orthodox and elegant art.

As it turned out, the role model she had praised to the heavens actually quoted lines from that book—which she considered "taboo"—in public, and even revered them as her faith.

In her eyes, this was not just a slip of the tongue by Ye Xi, but a public profanity against the very word "art," and a devastating misguidance to the hundreds of students in the audience.

She could not stand it.

Decades of teaching had formed a near-paranoid sense of responsibility in her; even with the leaders of the Education Bureau sitting in the audience, she had to put a stop to this unhealthy trend.

"Student Ye Xi!"

Yan Fang pushed up her thick-rimmed glasses, her expression filled with the heartache of seeing someone fail to live up to her expectations.

"I have also read that web novel you mentioned. What is it about? It's about dead people, about ghosts! It is filled with horror, gore, and feudal superstition! As an internationally renowned young artist, you represent the face of our province. Yet on such a solemn occasion, you treat lines from such low-class web novels as your life motto. Do you think you are worthy of the words 'artistic exchange'?"

The entire conference center was deathly silent.

The students, who had just been full of burning enthusiasm, were instantly frozen.

Yan Fang's intimidating presence was too deep-rooted; it was a conditioned reflex etched into their bones.

On stage, Ye Xi unconsciously tightened her grip on the microphone.

She was no stranger to big occasions; the spotlights in Vienna were far more blinding than this.

If this were a debate, she could have cited sources and left her opponent speechless.

Facing this elder's condescending accusation, she wanted to retort that it was literature, not superstition!

But she held back.

She was a guest, and the other party was an elder, a teacher on home turf.

The rebuttal rolled in her throat a few times, but was ultimately swallowed back down by her good upbringing.

Her eyes were slightly red, but she stubbornly bit her lower lip, standing there without saying a word.

Sitting in the front row, Principal Jiang Changfeng's face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot.

"Teacher Yan!"

Principal Jiang Changfeng stood up abruptly, trying to smooth things over.

"Academic viewpoints can be discussed later, now it is..."

"Um... excuse me."

A lazy voice abruptly interjected.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads.

"Minister Zheng, this..."

Principal Jiang Changfeng looked embarrassed and wanted to explain to Zheng Songxue, but was interrupted by a wave of his hand.

From the shadows on the side of the stage, a boy wearing a red volunteer vest walked out.

He was holding an unopened bottle of mineral water, his pace unhurried, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere at the scene.

Lin Que walked straight to the center of the stage and handed the water to Ye Xi.

"Student Ye Xi, you've been speaking for so long, your throat must be dry, right? Drink some water and moisten it."

Ye Xi was stunned, looking at this guy who had suddenly appeared.

His red volunteer vest was worn over a hoodie, looking a bit incongruous, but there was a smile hidden in his eyes, like a deep pool, steadily catching all her grievances and embarrassment.

"Lin..."

Ye Xi subconsciously wanted to call his name.

Lin Que nodded slightly, and while handing over the water, he patted her shoulder very lightly.

The touch was very light, but it carried a strange sense of comfort.

"It's okay, take a break."

Lin Que said in a low voice, then turned around, a microphone appearing in his hand at some point.

Facing the aggressive Yan Fang in the audience, he wore that unique, disarming smile.

Yan Fang certainly knew Lin Que.

He was a prominent figure at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School; whether it was the first prize winner in the essay competition a while ago, or the literature forum that had caused such a stir a few days ago, this name appeared in the teachers' office more frequently than the Dean of Students.

"Lin Que?"

Yan Fang frowned even tighter.

"You are a volunteer, do your service work well. This is none of your business, don't meddle!"

"Teacher, that's where you're wrong."

Lin Que put one hand in his pocket and held the microphone with the other, his tone as relaxed as if he were chatting.

"I am a volunteer, and my job is to serve our guests. Student Ye Xi is a guest, and since the guest hasn't finished speaking, you are already rushing to define and criticize her. That doesn't align with our school's hospitality, does it?"

"What criticism! I am discussing the seriousness of literature with her!"

Yan Fang did not budge, speaking sharply.

"Web novels poison teenagers; that is a fact! Lin Que, you are talented, you should have better discernment. Tell me, the protagonist in that book points a gun at a ghost, isn't that promoting violence? A ghost dies and refuses to leave the human world, isn't that superstition? Aside from creating anxiety and terror, what value does this kind of thing have?"

The students in the audience looked at each other, many of them breaking into a cold sweat for Lin Que.

Debating with Yan Fang was basically suicide.

Lin Que didn't rush to respond, but first bowed slightly to Yan Fang, his manners so impeccable that no one could find fault.

"Teacher Yan, you are an elder and an authority in the Chinese department. Everyone sees your protectiveness and your worry that students might go astray."

"But if you insist on labeling it as feudal superstition, then I have to debate this with you."

Lin Que's eyes became sharp.

"You said that the book is about ghosts. But if a border defense soldier sacrifices himself in a no-man's-land, his body not yet cold, and his soul still guarding the boundary marker, refusing to leave—in your eyes, is this also a lonely ghost? Is this also feudal superstition?"

Yan Fang was stunned and opened her mouth:

"This... how can you conflate the two? That is a hero!"

"But the ghost you were just criticizing was also a police officer."

Lin Que's voice suddenly deepened, putting away his previous laziness.

"That criminal investigator named A-Zhe died in the line of duty while pursuing a serial killer case. After he died, in order not to let the murderer go unpunished, he held onto his final breath, refusing to dissipate, and possessed his colleague to continue the investigation. Only when the killer was brought to justice and righteousness was served did he salute and leave peacefully."

Lin Que took a step forward, standing at the edge of the stage, looking down at Yan Fang.

"Teacher Yan, you have taught Chinese for so many years, you should understand better than me what rhetoric is, what metaphor is. In that story, the 'ghost' is not superstition at all; it is a persistent obsession, a responsibility that transcends life and death."

"You only saw that he was writing about ghosts, but you didn't see that he was writing about people."

"You say it is ghost talk."

Lin Que pointed to Ye Xi behind him, then to the students in the audience with eager eyes.

"But in our eyes, that line, 'Rules are dead, but faith is alive,' is human talk. It is human talk that tells us to hold onto our true selves even within the established rules."

Wow—

The originally quiet crowd in the audience was like a lit fuse.

"Lin Que, you... you are twisting words!"

Yan Fang's steps were a bit unsteady.

"No matter how you put it, literature must have style and a medium! Things published on the internet for profit, how can they be mentioned in the same breath as serious literature?"

"Teacher Yan."

Lin Que interrupted her, his lips curling up slightly.

"People in the past felt that vernacular Chinese lacked style, and then they felt that those who wrote novels were just low-class storytellers, and only classical eight-legged essays were orthodox. But look at it now, what do you think?"

"No one has stipulated that only what is printed in lead type is literature, and that what floats on the internet and exists in mobile phones is trash."

Lin Que turned around, no longer looking at Yan Fang, but instead facing the two thousand students in the audience, and also at Ye Xi behind him, saying calmly:

"As long as it can warm a person's heart, and as long as it can make someone want to persist a little longer when they are in despair, that is good writing."

"As for whether it comes from a classic or a web novel, does it matter?"

The last three words fell, the microphone was gently placed back on the podium, making a "thump" sound.

The dull sound was like a knock on everyone's heart.

In the audience, someone took a breath, and then the first round of applause rang out.

It was a boy in the corner who was usually the most inconspicuous.

Then came the second, the third...

Until Minister Zheng in the first row also smiled and raised his hands, and the applause finally merged into a tide.

"Clap, clap, clap."

The applause spread from the first row, like a prairie fire, instantly sweeping through the entire conference center.

"Well said!"

Someone in the back row shouted.

Immediately after, the applause turned into thunder, mixed with the long-suppressed cheers of the students.

Yan Fang froze in place, the words "does it matter" repeating in her mind.

Looking at those young faces flushed with excitement, seeing the light in their eyes that she hadn't seen in her Chinese classes for a long time.

She had taught for a lifetime, had been fastidious about style for a lifetime, and her classes had never received such pure, such fervent applause.

In that instant, the persistence she was so proud of seemed to have a crack in it.

On stage, Ye Xi held the bottle of water, the coolness of the bottle seeping into her palm, but her heart was burning hot.

She looked at the back blocking her, a strange radiance shining in her eyes.

This was the first time that someone had not only not let her suffer in such an occasion, but also helped her say what she wanted to say but didn't dare to say, and said it so thoroughly.

The applause gradually faded.

Principal Jiang Changfeng's heart hadn't calmed down yet when he heard the exclamation from Minister Zheng beside him.

"Principal Jiang."

Zheng Songxue looked in the direction of Lin Que, his eyes full of admiration.

"What is this student's name? Quick-thinking, clear logic, and what's most rare is this spirit of being neither humble nor pushy. He's a talent."

"Minister Zheng, he is Lin Que."

Principal Jiang Changfeng quickly replied, that sense of pride bubbling up in his tone again.

"He is the one who won the provincial Jian Shen Cup first prize winner recently."

Principal Jiang Changfeng had promised Shen Qingqiu not to reveal the honorary member matter.

"Oh?"

Professor Yu Yan beside them also became interested.

"No wonder. That remark just now, although sharp, was insightful. Today's children are much more thoughtful than we were when we were young."

Yu Yan turned to look at Ye Xi on the stage, her eyes filled with deeper meaning:

"Ye Xi, this child, it seems she didn't come to Jiangcheng in vain; she found a kindred spirit."

Principal Jiang Changfeng was an old hand after all, and seeing that the atmosphere had eased slightly, he immediately stood up with a smile to smooth things over:

"Alright, alright, the truth becomes clearer with debate! Teacher Yan is also just concerned about the students. I see it is getting late, now is the time for consultation on art examination issues. Student Ye Xi must be tired from speaking for so long. That, Lin Que, you take Student Ye Xi to the lounge to rest first, and by the way, show her around our campus culture."

Lin Que nodded, turned his head, and looked at Ye Xi who was still in a daze.

"Let's go, Teacher Ye."

"I'll take you to get something warm."