237: Chapter 237 Cultural Counterattack

The night deepened, and the streetlights stretched their shadows into distorted shapes.

Lin Que didn't respond to Wu Di's dejected remark; instead, as if he had heard a joke, he let out a scoff.

"A small construction materials shop owner? Wu Di, have you forgotten what you did back in tenth grade?"

Wu Di sniffled, looking somewhat bewildered.

"Tenth grade? Besides being chased by the Dean of Students, what else did I do?"

"Back then, when limited-edition sneakers were released and no one in the whole school could get them..."

"Only you could secure a source and even made a profit on the price difference, practically turning that year's new release into our school's 'official shoe'."

Lin Que didn't follow up on that, but simply held up two fingers.

"Who was it in eleventh grade? Who was the one who dug open that crawlspace under the school wall?"

"Braving Old Fei's fury, you managed to deliver spicy hot pot from outside to every single dormitory in the school."

Wu Di's face flushed red, and he scratched his head.

"That was just messing around. Didn't I get reported later anyway..."

Lin Que's smile faded.

"In this school where grades are everything, that's called neglecting your studies."

"But in the ocean of society, that's called business acumen and resource integration."

"This stuff can't be learned, no matter how high your test scores are."

Wu Di was stunned, the gloom in his eyes seeming to dissipate slightly at these words.

Striking while the iron was hot, Lin Que pointed at the hurried passersby around them, their heads bowed as they scrolled through their phones.

"Look at this world. Technology is advanced, with VR and holographic projections everywhere."

"Everyone is looking for fun in virtual data. Don't you think something is missing?"

"What's missing?" Wu Di asked instinctively.

"A human touch," Lin Que snapped his fingers.

"Young people today can chat all night in online relationships, but when they meet, they can't even squeeze out a word."

"They need a reason—a reason that allows them to have something to talk about, something to do, and even a legitimate excuse to hold a girl's hand, even when sitting face-to-face."

"So, start a Script Kill business?" Wu Di asked with a look of confusion.

"Script Kill? That's too low-level."

Lin Que leaned against the lamppost and pointed at the dark, unfinished building in the distance.

"Let's go big. Rent out an entire floor and turn it into a Republic-era mansion or a haunted hospital."

"Before entering, strip off those designer clothes and put on a long gown or a hospital gown."

"Even you, once inside, have to act according to my script. If you're a spy, you have to make contact; if you're a lunatic, you have to bite people."

Wu Di listened, completely dazed.

"This... can this work?"

"City people today are tired of playing the subservient grandson during the day. Don't they want a place to be the big boss at night? Or even a psycho?"

Lin Que patted his chest.

"What we're selling isn't a script; it's excitement, it's adrenaline."

Lin Que patted his chest.

"Think about it. Making those white-collar workers who usually act all prim and proper pay to come here and scream their heads off—isn't that more satisfying than moving tiles?"

Wu Di's mouth hung slightly open as images began to form in his mind.

"The scene of a group of people sitting together, arguing until they were red in the face over a clue..."

"...crying their eyes out over an ending... It's so exhilarating!"

"But... where do the scripts come from?" Wu Di swallowed hard. "The story is the core of this thing, right?"

It had to be said, he truly did have a sense for business.

"Me."

Lin Que pointed to his own head.

"I'm going to Tsinghua and Peking University to learn how to write stories more beautifully."

"But I can't be in two places at once. All those suspenseful, horrific, and emotional stories piled up in my head need a place to land, don't they?"

He patted Wu Di's broad shoulder.

"Brother, I'll be responsible for creating the dreams, and you'll be responsible for building them."

"Renovation, operations, and even how to scare the players into wetting their pants—those are your strengths."

"When the time comes, you won't be some construction materials shop owner."

"You'll be the manager of the largest dream factory in all of Jiangcheng, maybe even the whole country."

Wu Di's mouth widened, and a rusty string in his mind suddenly snapped.

He seemed to see a room full of young people...

...wearing Republic-era qipaos and zhongshan suits, arguing until they were red in the face over a clue... This stuff seemed ten thousand times more exciting than selling tiles!

A surge of heat rushed straight to the crown of his head.

To hell with the construction materials shop! To hell with just waiting to die!

"Let's do it!"

Wu Di slapped his thigh hard, the force making him grimace in pain.

"Don't get too excited yet. Before that, you must get a diploma."

"No problem, Brother Que! In the future, as long as you dare to write it, I'll dare to build the set!"

"When the time comes, we brothers will join forces and turn Jiangcheng—no, China's entertainment industry upside down!"

Under the streetlights, the two boys' hands slammed together in a high-five.

That crisp sound was exceptionally clear in the sultry summer night.

The inferiority in Wu Di's eyes shattered completely.

Replacing it was the ambition of a hungry wolf seeing meat... The following days seemed to have the fast-forward button pressed.

The final unified exams arrived as scheduled, and the eleventh-grade students throughout Jiangcheng fell into a final frenzy.

The classrooms were thick with the smell of medicated oil and instant coffee.

Everyone had dark circles under their eyes, fighting to the death in a sea of practice problems.

Lin Que was the only outlier.

Because of that "guaranteed admission privilege," he became the only idle person amidst the envious and jealous gazes of the school's teachers and students.

His classmates jokingly called him a "walking College Entrance Examination immunity badge."

They would take a few extra glances whenever they passed by, trying to catch some of his good luck.

As the bell rang for the end of the final English exam.

At that moment, the hormones suppressed for the entire semester completely exploded.

Summer vacation had begun.

The night of July 5th, Xisheng Mansion.

The living room was piled with suitcases and various storage bags; anyone who didn't know better would think the family was moving.

"You must take these thick coats! I saw on the news that the latitude in Europe is high, and the temperature difference between morning and night is large. Don't catch a cold."

"And this cold medicine, anti-inflammatories, Band-Aids... Seeing a doctor abroad is so expensive and requires an appointment. If there's an emergency, it could be the death of you."

Mrs. Wang Xiulian was in a state of extreme anxiety.

She muttered to herself while stuffing things into the suitcases.

It looked as if she wanted to pack half the house for Lin Que to take with him.

Lin Que sat on the sofa, watching his mother's busy figure; several times he tried to help, but was brushed off.

"Mom, I'm going on a trip, not on a wilderness survival mission."

Lin Que said helplessly.

"The supermarkets there have everything. There's no need to bring so much."

"What do you know! Can things outside be as good as those at home?"

Wang Xiulian's eyes suddenly reddened, and her movements slowed.

"You'll be gone for a month. What if you're not used to Western food?"

"What if you're bullied? I heard the public security there isn't good either..."

As she spoke, her voice choked up.

A mother worries when her child travels a thousand miles.

Even though Lin Que was now a national champion, in her eyes, he was still that child who needed looking after.

Lin Jianguo, who had been sitting nearby reading the newspaper, suddenly set it down.

"That's enough!"

Comrade Old Lin stood up and walked over to take a package of cured meat out of Wang Xiulian's hand.

"The boy is grown; you have to let him fly and make his own way."

Lin Jianguo's voice was steady, carrying the authority of the head of the household.

"Look at the look in his eyes on the podium; he's seen the world."

"As parents, we can't always think about keeping him tied to our apron strings. That would only harm him."

Wang Xiulian wiped away a tear, looking at her husband and then at her son.

Finally, she sighed and silently put the cured meat back into the refrigerator.

"I'll listen to you. I won't pack any more."

This is probably the deepest love of Chinese parents.

Worried to death on one hand, yet forcing themselves to let go on the other.

Night fell deep.

Lin Que went back to his room to check his luggage.

Pulling open a compartment in the suitcase, two glass jars wrapped tightly in newspaper were lying there.

Through the glass, he could see the crystal-clear pickled white garlic cloves inside.

That was Mrs. Wang Xiulian's unique specialty—Sweet Garlic.

Sweet and sour, it cuts through greasiness and is a specialized cure for being unaccustomed to a new climate.

Although his mother had agreed not to pack more things, she had still secretly tucked this "life-saving" item inside.

He smiled and didn't take out this heavy token of love... July 6th, early morning.

To avoid the media and influencers camping outside the residential area's entrance...

Lin Que made a point of getting up very early, wearing a baseball cap and a mask, carrying only a backpack...

...and dragging that heavy suitcase, he quietly slipped out from the underground garage.

There were no flowers, no send-off, and he hadn't even notified Wu Di.

10:00 AM, Jiangcheng Bodhi Airport.

A massive Boeing 787 cut through the clouds, flying toward the distant West.

Inside the first-class cabin, the air conditioning was cool.

Lin Que declined the champagne offered by the flight attendant and asked for a glass of warm water.

He adjusted his seat and looked out the window at the surging sea of clouds.

Below the clouds was his familiar homeland; above the clouds was an unknown journey.

He glanced at the mechanical watch on his wrist.

It was now the morning of July 6th, Beijing time.

There were less than 40 hours until July 8th—the simultaneous global launch of "the ferryman" in sixteen countries.

There were only two days left until the debut performance of the girl named Ye Xi at the Vienna Golden Hall.

In this parallel world, his words and her music...

...were about to complete a cross-temporal intersection in that place regarded by Westerners as a temple of art.

"Observer..."

Lin Que silently repeated the word in his mind.

In his past life, Chinese culture was always voiceless in the Western context, an "other" to be scrutinized.

But this time, carrying that story about the soul ferry and that heart-piercing Eastern philosophy...

...he was going to see what kind of fascinating expressions those arrogant Westerners would make when faced with such a soul-searching interrogation.

This was not just a trip; it was a silent cultural counter-offensive...