276: Chapter 276 Three Lighthouses

Beijing, Xu Family courtyard.

The courtyard lights were dim, and the chirping of cicadas in the night was particularly noisy.

Xu Zhengqing sat in a rattan chair, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the light from his phone screen reflecting on his wrinkled face.

He read the "Preface to the Readers" word by word, his fingers lingering on the screen for a long time.

"Jingwen." Xu Zhengqing took off his glasses, his voice a bit hoarse.

Xu Changge stood to the side, watching the moisture well up in his grandfather's cloudy eyes.

"Grandfather?"

"I have lived for seventy-three years and have seen too many literary figures." Xu Zhengqing handed the phone back and looked up at the night sky.

"Some bow for fame and fortune, some pretend to be mysterious for the sake of being aloof.

But like Jianshen, who truly lowers himself into the mud, this is the first time I have seen it."

He paused, his voice tinged with self-deprecation.

"We... are all inferior."

Xu Changge's hand holding the phone tightened slightly.

His grandfather's words carried too much weight.

"Jingwen, you should also read the trial text."

Xu Zhengqing put his glasses back on, his tone returning to calm.

Xu Changge nodded and walked quickly back to the study.

He opened the app and clicked into the preview page.

On the screen, the Loess Plateau of 1975 slowly unfolded.

Cold rain, the dining hall, the three categories of A, B, and C.

Xu Changge had originally held a critical attitude, wanting to see if this "serialized mode" would destroy the integrity of literature.

But when he saw Sun Shaoping hiding in a pile of broken bricks, swallowing black-flour buns with rainwater, his whole body froze.

That rough, cutting reality was like a dull knife, scraping his heart over and over again.

Only the simplest words, yet so heavy that they made one unable to breathe.

Xu Changge remembered his previous visceral disgust for "paid serialization," remembered using the eyes of a scion of a noble family to speculate on Jianshen's motives.

He suddenly felt that he was ridiculous.

Xu Changge's eyes turned red, he blinked quickly, suppressing the soreness.

He continued to scroll down.

One chapter, two chapters, three chapters...

When he saw Sun Shaoping carrying stones at the construction site, his back rubbed bloody and raw, Xu Changge could no longer hold it together.

He put down his phone, braced his hands on the desk, and took a deep breath.

"I was wrong."

He muttered to himself, his voice filled with shame.

"I was really wrong."

Xu Changge wiped his face and picked up his phone again.

He wanted to tip.

He wanted to express his respect for this book in the most direct way.

Xu Changge opened the tipping page, the colorful options making him feel a bit dazzled.

On the screen, the words "New Tide Shells" were prominent.

He stared at them for a long time, a sense of bewilderment rising in his heart.

He tried clicking [Recharge], and a bank card binding page popped up.

Xu Changge stared at the input boxes, feeling somewhat lost.

Card number, password, verification code...

What were these?

He had been immersed in books since childhood and lived a simple life, so he really knew little about these emerging electronic payment methods.

Xu Changge suppressed the discomfort in his heart and took out a bank card from his wallet.

He faced the screen, his fingertips trembling as he entered the card number.

After entering one wrong digit, he carefully deleted it and re-entered it.

After finally binding it successfully, he opened the recharge page and pressed "1" followed by four "0"s.

Ten thousand yuan.

However, a line of red text popped up on the screen: "Single recharge limit is 5000 yuan."

Xu Changge was stunned for a moment.

There was a limit?

He had to recharge in two batches to make up ten thousand New Tide Shells.

Then he clicked the tipping page and selected "Tip Author."

Another line of red text: "Single tip limit is 1000 yuan."

The veins on Xu Changge's forehead throbbed.

He took a deep breath and began to click the tip button mechanically.

Once, twice, three times...

Until the tenth click, the ten thousand yuan was finally fully sent.

Xu Changge leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath.

This exhaustion was harder than finishing a ten-thousand-word article.

But his heart was filled with unprecedented satisfaction.

This clumsy persistence was the most sincere respect he offered to that literature deep in the soil.

...

Jiangcheng, Xisheng Mansion.

Lin Que was just about to go to sleep when his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

Chen Jiahao.

Calling at this hour, it must be nothing good.

Lin Que answered the phone, and before he could speak, a deafening roar came from the other side.

"Master Que! Teacher Jianshen is simply a god!"

Chen Jiahao's voice was so excited that it was out of tune, as if he wanted to shatter the phone.

"Did you see that preface? Did you see it? I said Teacher Jianshen couldn't be coerced by capital! What is this called? This is called 'If I don't go to hell, who will?' He is using his own divinity to pave the way for the common people at the bottom!"

Lin Que moved the phone slightly away to avoid the deafening roar piercing his eardrums.

He replied calmly:

"Yeah, I saw it all."

"You saw it and you can still be so calm?" Chen Jiahao's voice was full of disbelief.

"Master Que, do you know what this means? Teacher Jianshen has already transcended those worldly fame and fortunes! He is simply a saint in the literary world!"

The corners of Lin Que's mouth rose slightly, suppressing the unspeakable secret joy in his heart, and he replied unhurriedly:

"Yes, Teacher Jianshen is indeed remarkable."

Chen Jiahao continued to output.

"I just read the first ten chapters, and I cried! As a grown man, I watched Sun Shaoping eat black-flour buns, and tears streamed down my face! Master Que, how do you think Teacher Jianshen did it? How could he write about that poverty and dignity so realistically?"

Lin Que leaned against the head of the bed, the smile on his lips becoming more obvious.

"Who knows? Maybe he was born knowing the taste of suffering."

Chen Jiahao slapped his thigh.

"I now seriously suspect that Teacher Jianshen must have suffered a lot when he was young! Otherwise, how could he write it so truly? Master Que, how old do you think Teacher Jianshen is now?"

Lin Que looked at himself in the mirror and then at the calendar.

Seventeen years old.

"I don't know." He said calmly.

"Forget it, it doesn't matter." Chen Jiahao waved his hand.

"Anyway, in my heart, Teacher Jianshen is already a god! Master Que, let me tell you, I just topped up one thousand yuan, ready to subscribe to the full book as soon as it goes online tomorrow! You should also hurry up and top up, we can't let Teacher Jianshen down!"

Lin Que laughed and agreed.

After hanging up the phone, he looked at the recharge screenshot sent by Chen Jiahao on his phone screen and couldn't help laughing out loud.

...

The northernmost tip of China, Mo City.

In the cold, dark room, only a dim desk lamp was on.

Danyi Lopivich sat on the bed, the light from his phone screen reflecting on his deeply contoured face.

He originally didn't care for Jianshen's healing style like The Miracles of the Namiya General Store.

That kind of warmth did not belong to an "outcast" like him who had been excluded for a long time.

But the noise on the Internet made him curious.

He clicked on the preview of ordinary world.

The Loess Plateau in 1975, cold rain falling.

Sun Shaoping was hiding in a pile of broken bricks, swallowing black-flour buns with rainwater.

Dan Yi's finger froze on the screen.

That posture of hiding like a thief to maintain his pitiful dignity hit his heart like a hammer.

He understood it too well.

That feeling of gritting his teeth and refusing to yield in the midst of poverty and discrimination was something he experienced every day.

Dan Yi continued to scroll down.

Sun Shaoping carrying stones at the construction site, his back rubbed bloody and raw.

Sun Shaoping running wildly in the rainstorm, gritting his teeth and refusing to kneel in the rotten circumstances.

Every word seemed to be describing himself.

Dan Yi's breathing became rapid.

He suddenly realized that this realistic novel, which seemingly had no monsters, brought a sense of oppression and shock that overlapped with the suffocation he felt when reading that Cthulhu novel.

It was all an interrogation of the depths of the soul, all a direct look at alienation.

Dan Yi put down his phone and looked at the pitch-black night sky outside the window.

At this moment, he silently listed three names in his heart.

Jianshen.

Hell Dream Weaver.

And that teenager who wrote the metamorphosis.

"Three lighthouses."

There was a determined light in Dan Yi's eyes.

He opened his notebook and began to record this surging thought.

On the last page of the notebook, he wrote solemnly:

"In this life, I will surely walk side by side with you all."