176: Blue and Green Project

In the meeting room, only the rustling of Zhou Wenyuan flipping through documents remained.

A red-headed document bearing the national emblem was spread out on the table.

“The [Qinglan Project].”

Zhou Wenyuan tapped his finger on the title, his gaze sweeping across every Provincial Writers Association Chairman present, his voice steady and powerful:

“This is a strategy jointly finalized by the Writers Association and the Ministry of Education. There is only one goal:

To break conventions and select talents without sticking to one pattern.”

He held up three fingers.

“The top thirty contestants who make it to the finals will be directly selected for the ‘Qinglan Training Camp’.

At that time, we will invite top domestic literary giants—including those who have long since stopped writing—or highly influential rising stars to teach in person.”

As this point was revealed, the breathing in the room grew noticeably heavier.

But Zhou Wenyuan clearly didn't intend to stop there; he threw out a second, even more lethal bargaining chip.

“As for the top ten in the final assessment.”

Zhou Wenyuan paused, his eyes burning bright:

“They will directly receive guaranteed admission to the Qingbei School of Literature.”

“What?!”

Tao Zhiyan's hand, which had just unscrewed a water bottle, froze in mid-air.

Direct admission to Qingbei?

You see, while everyone present was a regional titan of the literary world, who didn't have a few relatives or juniors currently at the age for the College Entrance Examination?

The value of this ‘golden ticket’ was enough to drive any family wild.

“Regardless of grade.”

Zhou Wenyuan added:

“For seniors, admission letters will be issued directly. For juniors, their student status will be reserved, they'll be exempt from the College Entrance Examination, and they'll enroll upon graduation.

Even for freshmen prospects—though it's more difficult—as long as they make the top ten, they will become key national cultivation targets.”

The meeting room instantly erupted in an uproar.

This wasn't just selecting literary prospects; this was clearly selecting the future pillars of the literary world!

“Old Zhou, this move... isn't it a bit too grand?”

Tao Zhiyan wiped the water stains off the table, his eyes showing both shock and undisguised envy:

“If news of this gets out, won't those thousand kids heading to the capital fight for their lives?”

“That's exactly what we want. If they don't fight now, then when?”

Zhou Wenyuan smiled faintly and closed the document again:

“Literature isn't a dinner party; it requires blood. Without this kind of ‘burn-your-bridges’ temptation, how can we force out the potential in their bones?”

He looked around, seeing the colorful expressions on the chairmen's faces, and changed the subject.

“Since we're talking about potential, let's see just how arrogant this year's kids have become.”

Zhou Wenyuan waved his hand, and his secretary immediately distributed a stack of bound photocopies.

“You all know the rules from previous years: ‘premium selection’ only happens in the finals. But this year, there was an exception.”

Zhou Wenyuan picked up his teacup and blew on the foam:

“Between the preliminary round and the Semifinals, a total of three ‘monsters’ emerged that couldn't be measured by conventional scores. The organizing committee made an exception and promoted them early.”

Tao Zhiyan impatiently flipped open the first document in front of him.

The title was only four characters—‘fan jin passes the imperial examination’.

“A preliminary round work. The recommender is Chen Jingzhi from the Fudan College of Liberal Arts.”

Zhou Wenyuan's voice sounded at the right moment:

“Dean Chen's comment was: ‘On the surface it writes of joy, but in reality, it writes of madness; on the surface it writes of the past, but in reality, it stabs at the present.’ This is a short story worthy of being recorded in the history of satirical literature.”

The meeting room fell silent, with only the sound of pages turning.

Five minutes later.

“Slap!”

Tao Zhiyan slapped his thigh hard, the force making the water bottle in front of him jump.

“Brilliant! Simply bloody brilliant!”

This man from the Northwest didn't care about his image at all as he pointed to a paragraph in the article:

“This guy named Fan Jin went crazy after passing the exam? And his father-in-law slapped him awake? This satirical flavor is sharper than aged vinegar!”

He looked up, his eyes burning as he stared at Gu Changfeng:

“Old Gu, this article is from your Su Province, right? This writing style is as seasoned as an eight-hundred-year-old demon. You're telling me a high schooler wrote this?

I don't believe it! This is definitely some old monster who has seen through the coldness of the world, reincarnated!”

Gu Changfeng's hand holding the purple clay teapot was as steady as Mount Tai; he even took his time to blow on the foam:

“Old Tao, your voice is still as loud as ever. Don't go spilling this fine tea.

What old monster? Kids these days just read a bit more widely and have a little bit of talent, that's all.”

“Luck, it's all luck.”

Gu Changfeng took a sip from the teapot, using the rising steam...

to hide the smugness in his eyes that he couldn't quite conceal.

“Luck my...”

Tao Zhiyan grumbled, but held back the rest of the curse.

“If this kind of writing that skins the imperial examination system alive can be produced by luck, I'll eat this table!”

The other chairmen nodded one after another, their expressions solemn.

This ‘fan jin passes the imperial examination’ had indeed shattered their perception of ‘exam essays’.

It wasn't answering a prompt; it was using the prompt as a pretext, pointing at the examiners' noses and cursing the state of the world.

“Now look at the second one.”

Zhou Wenyuan signaled for everyone to continue.

The second piece was ‘wedding banquet in the hutong’, from a key high school in the capital.

After reading it, everyone nodded.

“Not bad. The technique is skillful, and the emotions are delicate.”

“It has a strong Beijing flavor; he's a good prospect.”

The evaluations were fair, but that was all.

They were all experts; all goods suffer by comparison.

If ‘wedding banquet in the hutong’ was a bowl of meticulously prepared, top-grade bird's nest soup,

then ‘fan jin passes the imperial examination’ was a bowl of strong liquor laced with arsenic.

The bird's nest is good, but forgotten after eating; the strong liquor burns the heart and lungs as it goes down—a pain that cannot be forgotten.

With a masterpiece preceding it, this excellent work that should have received a perfect score now seemed somewhat mediocre.

“Alright, the main event is at the end.”

Zhou Wenyuan set down his teacup. He didn't read it out immediately but took a deep breath first.

From the bottom of the folder, he pulled out the final, separately bound document.

This document was thicker than the previous two,

and even the edges of the paper were slightly curled, as if it had been flipped through countless times.

“This is the ‘premium selection’—the only one born among the nation's top students during the eight-hour limit of the Semifinals.”

Zhou Wenyuan emphasized the word ‘only’, his gaze sweeping the room with an indescribably complex emotion:

“The recommender is the Dean of the Qingbei School of Literature, Dai Shengzong.”

The moment those three words landed, the slight sound of rustling paper in the meeting room vanished completely.

Several chairmen who had been leaning back in their chairs almost subconsciously straightened their spines.

He was a true titan, a living fossil of the Huaxia literary world.

Anything that could catch his eye was a once-in-a-decade occurrence.

“Elder Dai's comment consists of only three sentences.”

Zhou Wenyuan looked at the paper in his hand and read slowly:

“‘I see the tragedy of an insect, and I also see the alienation of humans in modern civilization.

It makes me feel fear, and it also makes me feel compassion.

If ‘Fan Jin’ is mocking the past, then this piece is predicting the future.’”

Predicting the future?

Fear?

Using these words in a comment for a high schooler's essay—wasn't that a bit too heavy?

With immense doubt and curiosity, Tao Zhiyan was the first to flip open the cover.

Then, three characters slowly came into the view of the big shots.

‘the metamorphosis’

...