196: Brewing requires fermentation first.

At seven in the morning, the sun in Beijing had just peeked its head out.

In the general command hall on the top floor of the Yuyuan Technology Building, the air was so muggy it felt like it could be wrung out like water.

A few young teaching assistants on the night shift had massive dark circles under their eyes.

They were desperately gulping down coffee, trying to prop open their heavy eyelids that were fighting to close.

On the massive LED monitoring wall, most of the one thousand and six squares were lifeless.

Aside from a few 'involution kings' with bloodshot eyes still tapping away at their keyboards, the vast majority of the screens showed all sorts of bizarre sleeping postures.

*Clang!*

The heavy doors were pushed open roughly, and Tao Zhiyan practically barged in.

This man from the Northwest had clearly been worrying all night and hadn't slept well; the red streaks in his eyes were even more numerous than the proctors'.

He didn't even bother to greet anyone as he entered, heading straight for the monitoring area in the corner.

His booming voice jolted the teaching assistants awake:

"How's it going? Has that kid moved yet?"

A young teaching assistant was startled and stood up with a bitter smile, pointing at the screen:

"Chairman Tao, since you all left last night, Number 0816 hasn't even turned over. He's sleeping... very peacefully."

In the image, that expensive deep blue suit was tossed carelessly over the back of the chair.

The youth was curled on his side under the quilt, his breathing long and steady.

He was sleeping so contentedly, showing absolutely no awareness that he was on the battlefield of the finals.

Tao Zhiyan stared with his bloodshot eyes, wishing he could crawl into the screen and shake him awake.

"What time is it already? Nearly twenty hours have passed! Is he here for a competition or to catch up on sleep? How can his heart be so big!"

"Calm down."

The crisp sound of a porcelain lid clicking against a teapot came from the doorway, perfectly timing the rhythm of Tao Zhiyan's pacing.

"I say, Old Tao, your blood pressure is going to spike from all that shouting."

Gu Changfeng stepped into the hall, the purple clay teapot in his hand rubbed to an oily sheen.

He didn't even look at the screen, simply blowing on the steam rising from the spout.

"Instead of watering the seedlings from your own province, you run over here early in the morning to stare at my person. Aren't you afraid of getting a stye?"

"Stop playing games with me. I'm afraid such a fine piece of unpolished jade might be ruined because he underestimated the enemy!"

Tao Zhiyan wasn't annoyed; he pulled over a chair and sat next to Gu Changfeng, his brow furrowed into a knot.

"Old Gu, let's not beat around the bush."

"I went back and pondered over that 'folding beijing' all night."

"The concept is truly stunning—it's a genius idea! But it's also a massive pit!"

"Oh? How so?"

Gu Changfeng looked at the bloodshot-eyed Tao Zhiyan with interest.

Tao Zhiyan analyzed it, counting on his fingers:

"Folding the city, dividing time among different classes—this setting is too 'hard'!"

"If he can't bring it all together later, this won't be a novel; it'll become a mechanical instruction manual!"

"This long sleep of his makes me nervous. What if he wrote a beginning and now doesn't know how to make up the rest?"

Gu Changfeng took a sip of tea without even looking up:

"Oh, there's no need for us to worry about that."

"Since this kid dared to poke a hole in the sky, he has the ability to patch it up for you."

"Brewing wine requires fermentation. Let him sleep. Who knows how he might be arranging his troops in that head of his."

As the sun rose higher, the command hall gradually became lively.

In addition to the core judges from last night,

many academicians from the School of Liberal Arts who had heard the rumors, and even chairmen from other provinces who had just woken up, hurried over.

A strange sight appeared in the hall:

Over a dozen big shots who usually made the literary world tremble with a stomp of their feet were holding teacups, not looking at the students from their own provinces,

but instead surrounding the dark screen of Number 0816 in the corner, pointing and whispering about a sleeping high school student.

"Truly an eccentric."

"Still sleeping?"

...Someone turned their gaze toward the center of the large screen.

That was Xu Changge's split screen.

It had to be said, he was the quintessential 'other people's child.'

Xu Changge had already finished washing up. He sat with his back straight, fingers flying across the keyboard, his document word count already approaching ten thousand.

On the screen, the words of 'soul of the ancient wall' flowed out, with gorgeous diction and classical references.

"So steady."

An old judge of the beijing school pointed at Xu Changge, his face full of pride by association.

"This child Changge remains calm even in the finals."

"The metaphor of the 'inner wall' progresses layer by layer, bringing the heavy sense of old Beijing to life. This premium selection is a sure thing, I'd say."

Guo Binwen, the Chairman of Ning Province who had just arrived, nodded and then frowned as he looked toward the corner:

"But that one from Su Province... I heard he made quite a splash yesterday, but his word count is still stuck at eight thousand. If he doesn't start writing soon, he won't have enough time."

"You don't understand."

An Old Professor who had been present last night pushed up his glasses and interrupted him with a complex expression.

"Old Guo, don't just stare at the word count. Look closely at that framework."

The Old Professor wearing thick glasses tapped the screen.

Guo Binwen glanced at it casually, but just as his teacup reached his lips, his movements suddenly froze.

A few seconds later, he slowly lowered the teacup, the base clicking against the table with a soft sound.

"Folding the city... turning class stratification directly into physical isolation."

Guo Binwen's voice was a bit tight; his eyes held less disdain and more shock.

"These are the thoughts of a high school student? This is like peeling a layer of skin off this prosperous age."

"It's more than just peeling skin; it's life-threatening."

The Old Professor took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"The Xu family's child is gilding the edges of this prosperous age—steady and beautiful. But this kid from Su Province..."

He put his glasses back on, staring at those cold settings on the screen.

"This child is writing thorns. He has materialized the classes, time, and even resource distribution that we usually turn a blind eye to into that insurmountable wall."

"No wonder Chairman Gu is so calm."

Guo Binwen wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"With such an opening setting the stage, he indeed has the confidence to sleep. But what follows... can he really pull it off?"

Everyone's appetite was whetted.

This wait lasted until eleven o'clock in the morning.

Just as Tao Zhiyan's patience was about to run out, the deep blue suit on the screen suddenly moved.

"He's moving! He's moving!"

A teaching assistant who had come to watch cried out.

Dozens of eyes focused instantly.

Lin Que pulled back the quilt, revealing a face that had slept its fill.

He lazily stretched, the sound of his joints popping audible.

In fact, he had been awake since nine in the morning.

He just hadn't moved because the city in his mind still needed one final brick.

The prompt was 'Wall.'

In Lin Que's view, writing a simple wall was too light.

A real wall is the ruthless cutting that embodies physical rules,

it is the folding of time and space so that people can never see the morning of another group of people.

With his eyes closed, he repeatedly deduced the logic of the original work in his mind,

deconstructing, reorganizing, and localizing all the key information.

Until just now, the final piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place perfectly.

Then, under the expectant gazes of everyone hoping he would immediately pounce on the keyboard,

he stood up and wobbled over to the small bar in the room.

He took out self-heating rice, tore open the packaging, added water, and heated it.

He even took a can of 'Happy Water' from the fridge and popped the tab with a *snap*.

While waiting for the rice to heat up, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling window,

one hand in his pocket, drinking cola while admiring the heavy traffic outside.

But in the depths of his eyes, what was reflected was the earth flipping over, skyscrapers shrinking like building blocks, and that invisible wall crashing down.

In the command hall.

Tao Zhiyan looked at that slow and methodical eating on the screen and laughed out of sheer anger, slamming his water bottle onto the table:

"Fine, here we are worrying our hearts out, and he's here in Beijing on vacation!"

"Calm down."

Gu Changfeng said this, but his thumb was repeatedly rubbing the handle of his purple clay teapot.

A structure of thirty thousand words, a seventy-two-hour time limit.

The longer the buildup in the beginning, the more explosive the follow-up must be.

If he loses his breath for even a moment, a masterpiece will end up as a botched job.

This kid is playing with fire.

Twenty minutes later.

Lin Que swallowed the last bite of rice and carefully sorted and disposed of the meal box.

He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, droplets sliding down his jawline and into his collar.

He then leaned against the sink, looking up into the mirror.

The gaze of the person in the mirror was no longer unfocused.

He wiped his face haphazardly, not even reaching for a towel, letting the water droplets fall.

He turned and returned to his seat.

The ergonomic chair made a slight *creak*.

He didn't put his hands on the keyboard immediately, but instead gently closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

As this breath was fully exhaled,

his originally lazy posture quietly adjusted, his whole body becoming like a drawn bow.

In that instant, everyone in front of the screens subconsciously held their breath.

They realized...

That lazy youth was gone.