315: Chapter 315 A Name That Shatters the Literary World

As soon as Tang He said those words, the lounge, which had been buzzing with whispers, fell into an eerie silence for a second.

Zhang Hao's hand, which was rubbing his buzz cut, stopped mid-air.

He looked at Tang He, then turned to look at Lin Que, and a grin suddenly spread across his face.

He nudged Liu Yu beside him with his elbow and teased with a drawn-out tone.

"Oh, Tang the Great Talent, that 'I like it very much' of yours carries quite a bit of weight,"

"You've got the subject and the predicate, but the object is a bit ambiguous."

"Do you like the writing, or do you like... something else?"

Zhang Hao raised an eyebrow, intentionally dragging out his words.

Liu Yu pushed up the rimless glasses on the bridge of his nose, stifling a laugh:

"This is what you call a double entendre. Tang He, your writing usually isn't this imprecise."

A wave of good-natured laughter immediately erupted in the lounge.

At seventeen or eighteen, they were particularly sensitive to topics involving pink bubbles of romance.

Tang He's originally calm and composed expression finally broke under the teasing.

She suddenly realized that her words indeed held an ambiguity.

A liberal arts student's sensitivity to words transformed into a tangible embarrassment.

A visible blush quickly spread from the base of her neck, burning all the way to her earlobes.

She lowered her head in a slight panic, unnaturally adjusting her black-rimmed glasses to hide her embarrassment.

"Stop talking nonsense, I... I was just purely discussing the writing style."

As she spoke, she stole a glance at Lin Que.

Zhang Hao laughed even harder and was about to tease her more when he was interrupted by a steady voice.

"Your prose is also very brilliant."

Lin Que held his paper cup, his tone natural.

He looked at the blushing Tang He, his expression devoid of any awkwardness,

and certainly lacking the panic or smugness typical of boys his age when faced with such teasing.

"The piece from the Semifinals, 'Autumn Fragments,' used the sketching technique very cleanly."

"There was no unnecessary fluff, which is rare among our peers today."

Lin Que's evaluation was extremely professional, steering the conversation from 'adolescent gossip' back to the track of 'literary discussion' in just a few words.

Long before coming to Shanghai, Lin Que had specifically asked Chairman Gu of the Provincial Writers Association to find copies of the works of the other finalists.

He wanted to see the level of the top peers of this era,

and Tang He's prose had indeed left an impression on him.

Tang He looked up, meeting Lin Que's calm eyes, and the panic in her heart miraculously subsided.

She nodded gratefully to Lin Que.

Seeing the parties involved being so open and composed, Zhang Hao felt like he had punched a bale of cotton and curled his lip.

"Fine, fine, you're all literary masters. We commoners won't butt in."

Zhang Hao was naturally restless; he turned and slipped to the door,

carefully pulling open a crack in the heavy wooden door.

With one eye pressed against the crack, Zhang Hao looked out for a full half-minute.

He gasped and turned back, calling the others in a low voice.

"Wow, come and look at this. The setup outside is absolutely insane."

Liu Yu and several other boys curiously crowded around.

Through that narrow crack, the scene outside crashed into the high schoolers' vision without reservation.

The exhibition area for ordinary world had completely finished its final adjustments.

Four sets of high-wattage spotlights hanging from the ceiling shone precisely on the physical books with khaki covers.

Amid the interplay of light and shadow, the books were gilded with a heavy sense of historical texture.

Dozens of three-dimensional book stacks were arranged in an orderly fashion, like a phalanx about to set out for battle.

Even more exaggerated was the security arrangement.

A full twelve security personnel in black uniforms with headsets stood in a seamless human wall along the perimeter of the exhibition area.

With their hands behind their backs and serious expressions, they surrounded the area like an iron bucket.

And the giant background poster that had plummeted from the second floor firmly seized the visual focus of the entire first-floor hall.

The black Songti characters exuded the unique coarseness and pressure of the Loess Plateau.

Liu Yu looked for a few moments before silently retreating to sit on the sofa.

He shook his head, his tone tinged with a bit of bitterness and a helpless sigh.

"Let's be content, everyone. We should be thankful just to have a booth next to Teacher Jian Shen today."

Zhang Hao closed the door and walked back to join the conversation, looking completely puzzled.

"What kind of talk is that? We're part of a project led by the National Writers Association and the Ministry of Education. Surely Xinchao Publishing House wouldn't kick us out?"

Liu Yu gave a bitter laugh and explained in a low voice.

"You think New Tide wouldn't do it? I just heard Director Hu and the lead teacher spill the beans. New Tide signed an exclusivity agreement for the first floor of Century Book City long ago."

He extended a finger and wagged it in the air.

"According to business rules, only ordinary world should be sold on the first floor today. Our nine tables were originally supposed to be thrown into a corner on the second floor."

The students in the lounge were stunned.

Tang He pushed up her black-rimmed glasses and listened intently.

Liu Yu continued:

"You don't know how New Tide operates?"

"If they wanted to book the whole place, even the Writers Association couldn't stop them."

"I just heard from the lead teacher that we were really supposed to be moved to the second floor."

"It was Teacher Jian Shen who personally spoke up and forcibly vetoed New Tide's plan to clear the floor,"

"insisting on keeping us on the first floor, saying he wanted to compete with us on the same stage."

As soon as he said this, the atmosphere in the lounge completely changed.

The few who had felt a bit aggrieved by the meager setup just now now wore expressions of shock mixed with admiration.

Zhang Hao's mouth hung open for a long time before he could squeeze out a sentence.

"My god, someone of Teacher Jian Shen's level actually spoke up specifically for us high schoolers?"

Another boy named Wang Lei had slightly reddened eyes.

"This is true masterly grace. He could have easily crushed us to the second floor, yet he chose to pull us up to the same level."

He clenched his fists, his tone emotional.

"Being a foil for him is also an honor."

Tang He sat on the single sofa, her hands folded over her knees.

Her eyes held a clarity and admiration beyond her years.

"This isn't being a foil; this is a test. Didn't you see that open email online?"

Tang He's voice wasn't loud, but every word was resonant.

"Teacher Jian Shen said that being pitied is more humiliating than being defeated."

"He is using the most realistic market storm to teach us, the new sprouts in the greenhouse, a lesson."

She looked around at her peers.

"He treats us as true colleagues."

"This respect is weightier than any official endorsement."

"Even if we don't sell a single book today, even if we become total cannon fodder, we must sit here with our backs straight."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Their words were filled with infinite admiration for Jian Shen's breadth of mind and a sense of tragic heroism as they faced the storm.

"Right! Even if we're cannon fodder, we'll be cannon fodder with backbone!"

"To have a book signing on the same day and floor as such a literary giant—I can brag about this for a lifetime!"

The entire lounge was filled with a stirring atmosphere, like the wind whistling across the cold Yi River.

Lin Que sat on a chair next to the water dispenser, holding half a cup of warm water.

The ripples on the surface of the water in the cup hit the inner walls of the paper cup in tiny circles.

He had to use all his strength to keep himself from laughing out loud.

These eight top literary sprouts in the country, the future stars of the literary world,

were currently sitting together, wildly imagining things out of thin air and praising his 'Jian Shen' persona with extremely flowery language.

They were piously grateful for Teacher Jian Shen's mercy in not crushing them.

Their blood was boiling as they swore to pass Teacher Jian Shen's test.

And the literary giant they had placed on an altar and considered unattainable,

was currently wearing a tracksuit worth a few dozen yuan, sitting less than three meters away from them, listening to them praise him to his face.

Lin Que could even picture the expressions on these kids' faces when they learned the truth.

It would definitely be a disaster on the level of a total collapse of faith.

He set down the paper cup, cleared his throat, and put on a serious expression of complete agreement.

"Everyone is right. Senior Jian Shen's breadth of mind is indeed beyond our reckoning."

"When we get to the signing table later, let's all be sharp and not embarrass the senior."

Zhang Hao slapped Lin Que hard on the shoulder.

"Brother, well said! Today we'll follow the champion and witness the true storm together!"

Lin Que's lip twitched, and he forced a solemn nod.

Just as these high schoolers were so moved by themselves that they were almost in tears,

a series of light and hurried footsteps came from the corridor outside the lounge.

The footsteps stopped outside the door.

Then, Hu Yizhao's voice, which usually carried an official tone, rang out.

Now, his voice lacked any air of superiority, instead sounding twelve parts respectful and cautious.

"This way, the children are all waiting inside."

The eight people in the lounge immediately stopped talking and looked toward the door in unison.

Everyone knew that anyone who could make the Director of the Shanghai Writers Association Publicity Office speak in such a tone must be a heavyweight figure in the city.

Lin Que also tucked away the mischievous smile in his eyes and locked his gaze on the wooden door.

The brass handle was pressed down.

The door was pushed open.

Hu Yizhao pushed open the door and immediately stepped aside, his demeanor showing undeniable respect.

A middle-aged man stepped into the lounge.

He wore a black suit without a tie, his shirt collar open.

His brow bone was slightly high, and his gaze was extremely sharp.

He just stood there quietly, without speaking or making any extra movements.

But the air in the entire lounge seemed to turn serious.

That kind of aura was by no means the official authority granted by a position,

but rather a heavy deterrent force precipitated by years of using a pen to dissect the era.

Beside the middle-aged man was a young female assistant wearing rimless glasses.

The female assistant held a thick stack of documents, her expression equally serious and professional.

The eight high schoolers in the lounge instinctively stood up straight, their breathing becoming shallow.

Although they didn't recognize the face, their subconscious awe had already made them shut their mouths.

Hu Yizhao stepped quickly to the middle-aged man's side, facing the nine students present.

He straightened the hem of his suit, his expression solemn to the extreme.

Hu Yizhao cleared his throat, his voice echoing in the quiet lounge.

"Students, let me give you a grand introduction."

Hu Yizhao turned slightly, gesturing toward the middle-aged man with his right palm facing up.

"This is the Chairman of our Shanghai Writers Association."

He paused for a second and uttered the name that was enough to send shockwaves through the entire Chinese Literary World of his previous life.

"Mr. Lu Xun."

...