319: Chapter 319 Daring to Draw One's Sword in Front of Gao Feng

As soon as Chairman Lu finished speaking, the air on the right side of the hall seemed to be completely ignited.

The deeper meaning of these words, implying a clash with Jian Shen's release schedule, was self-evident.

The officials were not backing down at all; they intended to use the mountain that was Jian Shen as a whetstone!

The media reporters below were all shrewd; none failed to catch the subtext.

The group of reporters in the front row instantly boiled with excitement.

Several senior reporters had already quickly flipped open their notebooks, rapidly recording this explosive quote.

The sound of shutters and keyboard clicks intertwined; everyone knew...

...that with the head of the Shanghai Writers Association personally entering the fray, tomorrow's front page was secured.

The sound of shutters instantly rose in unison, and the flashes intertwined into a blinding daylight.

Several cameramen in the front row, lugging long spears and short cannons, even half-squatted on the ground, desperately searching for angles,

attempting to capture Chairman Lu and the giant poster of "ordinary world" behind him in the same frame.

The readers who had originally come with a spectator's mindset now wiped the playful expressions from their faces.

They looked down at the earthy-yellow physical books they were clutching tightly,

then looked up at the literary giant on stage, who exuded authority without being angry, and a sense of awe inexplicably rose in their hearts.

They looked at the thick, earthy-yellow physical books in their hands, then looked up again at the literary giant on stage who exuded authority without being angry;

the noise of the venue was forcibly suppressed by an invisible pressure.

Chairman Lu ignored the commotion below.

Holding the microphone, he turned slightly and looked warmly at the nine youths behind the signing table.

"Those sitting here today are top students from various provinces and cities in East China."

Chairman Lu's voice was transmitted clearly to every corner through the speakers.

"I might as well let you in on something: the works of these students have been scrutinized word by word within our Writers Association."

He raised his hand and pointed to the short-haired girl sitting at the edge.

"This one is a local from Shanghai, Tang He from Fudan Affiliated High School."

Tang He, being called out, was clearly stunned for a moment before quickly standing up.

Her fingers unconsciously gripped the hem of her clothes, her cheeks slightly flushed,

but her gaze met the cameras below head-on.

"Her final entry, 'glass,' is a highly modern urban fable," Chairman Lu commented as if reciting family treasures.

"Comparing the curtain walls of skyscrapers to transparent barriers that isolate human hearts, her writing is sharp and her perspective unique.

If any of you here are from out of town struggling to make it, you might want to flip through it; I guarantee you'll see your own shadow."

A few young people in formal wear below stopped scrolling through their phones,

their gaze crossing the crowd to land on the thin sample book in front of Tang He.

"This one is Zhang Hao from Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, from Hangzhou Normal University Affiliated High School." Chairman Lu's finger moved.

"His writing has the momentum of a newborn calf that doesn't fear the tiger."

Zhang Hao stood up and bowed to the audience, his eyes reddening with excitement.

Chairman Lu's comments were brief but carried immense weight.

This kind of personal endorsement from a national-level literary giant was incredibly significant.

A slight commotion began to stir among the readers who had originally only intended to watch the spectacle.

Someone stood on tiptoe, trying to clearly see the covers of the individual physical books on the signing table.

A few college students in the front row even lowered the hands they were using to hold their phones, a hint of seriousness appearing in their eyes.

After introducing the first eight people, Chairman Lu paused for a full five seconds.

The whispering at the scene gradually subsided; everyone knew the main event was coming.

Chairman Lu turned around to face the entire audience.

His fingers tightened slightly around the microphone, and his volume rose to its peak at this moment.

"Finally, I would like to grandly introduce someone to you all."

With a gaze as bright as a torch, he looked directly at the youth sitting in the center position.

"The national champion of this 'Fu Zhi Yao Competition' essay competition, Lin Que."

Countless long spears and short cannons instantly pivoted, and dense flashes illuminated every detail of the youth's face in the center.

"Many people might think that a seventeen-year-old high school student winning an essay competition is no big deal."

Chairman Lu's voice echoed in the now-quiet hall.

"But I can responsibly tell you all that this session of 'Fu Zhi Yao Competition' has the most stringent judging standards of any session to date."

He held up a finger, his tone becoming more emphatic.

"Regarding Student Lin Que's two works in the Preliminary Round and Semifinals, I believe some of you here have read his writing.

It is not sentimental whining, but rather an analysis of human nature and a depiction of the era."

"And his final entry, 'folding beijing,' uses a highly imaginative sci-fi shell,

wrapping around the coldest, most bone-chilling reality of class barriers; with its ingenious conception and profound intent,

it even secured a unanimous vote from the judging panel with a landslide advantage, seizing the overall championship!"

He held up a finger, his tone becoming more emphatic.

"This level of writing prowess, even if placed within today's National Writers Association, would be enough to make many veteran writers feel ashamed!"

This evaluation was truly too high, even frighteningly so.

The crowd below completely erupted.

"The strictest session ever and he still got a unanimous vote? This level of prestige is insane..."

"Didn't you read his Preliminary Round entry, 'fan jin passes the imperial examination'? It was brilliant!"

"The Semifinals' 'the metamorphosis' actually made me depressed. This guy's writing is indeed terrifying; Chairman Lu really wasn't exaggerating."

"After hearing Chairman Lu say that, I really do want to buy it and see. Sci-fi that can depict class barriers sounds pretty cool."

Several college students in the front row clutching "ordinary world" looked at each other;

although they were shaken by Chairman Lu's words, they looked at the books they had just bought,

then at the overly young champion on stage, their eyes still mixed with a wait-and-see attitude.

After all, the higher he was praised, the uglier the fall would be if no one paid for his work later.

"Now." Chairman Lu took half a step back, yielding the center of the stage, and made a gesturing motion.

"Let us use our applause to invite this champion of the strictest session ever to come on stage and deliver a speech as the student representative of this release event!"

After a brief silence, a hesitant but gradually swelling wave of applause rang out in the hall.

Lin Que gently placed the signing pen he had been twirling between his fingertips onto the table.

He stood up, facing the hundreds of probing and playful gazes from below,

walking steadily onto the red carpet and heading straight for the center of the stage.

As he passed by Chairman Lu, he nodded slightly in greeting, then took the microphone from the host.

The hall gradually grew quiet.

Everyone stared at this youth, wanting to hear what kind of polite clichés he could come up with in such a desperate situation of being completely overwhelmed.

Would he play the victim to seek sympathy? Or follow the official narrative to save face?

Holding the microphone, Lin Que's gaze crossed the dense crowd below,

and cast directly onto the giant poster of "ordinary world" on the left.

Looking at the book he had written, at the readers who were crazy about him, and then at the group of people in front of him waiting to see him make a fool of himself,

a very faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Since he wanted to establish the name "Lin Que," today's fire had to burn a little brighter.

"Just now backstage, someone told me that our sitting here today is a public execution."

Lin Que spoke.

His voice crashed clearly into everyone's ears through the speakers, his tone calm without the slightest tremor.

The readers below looked at each other; no one expected this youth to tear off the mask right away and lay the most embarrassing words directly on the table.

"Opposite us is a literary giant with sales in the tens of millions, while we are just a group of high school students who haven't even sold our first book yet."

Lin Que withdrew his gaze and looked around the hall.

"Some people pity us, some have come to see us as a joke.

They feel that in the face of such a spectacle, we aren't even qualified to be the background."

He paused for a second.

Then, Lin Que's fingers tightened sharply around the microphone, and his voice suddenly rose.

"But what I want to say is, if we don't even have the courage to face this high mountain, then what right do we have to hold a pen? What right do we have to write?"

Lin Que's eyes became sharp, piercing through the spectator-like gazes below.

"The victory or defeat in literature has never been about today's sales.

Selling well is the choice of the market; not selling well means we haven't reached maturity yet."

He raised his empty right hand, knuckles distinct, and forcefully drew a sharp arc in the air.

"The true victory or defeat lies in whether this pen,

dares, in the face of the highest peak,

to unsheathe!"

...