321: The answers to Chapter 321 are all in the book.

As Lin Que's voice fell, a strange silence descended upon the hall.

In the front row, several middle-aged men wearing dust-covered work uniforms looked at each other.

They had originally come to queue for "ordinary world" on behalf of their fellow workers and weren't interested in some high school essay competition at all.

But that sentence just now—"underclass laborers risking their lives for their children's tuition"—was like a heavy blow that struck them right in the heart.

One of the men couldn't help but tighten his grip on his canvas bag.

He hadn't had much schooling and couldn't understand the concept of space folding.

But he had touched bricks scalding hot from the summer sun; he knew what it felt like to bend his waist into the mud and slush just to scrape together a few hundred yuan for his kid at home.

The man rubbed his calloused hands and remained silent.

He just silently pulled the tightly gripped canvas bag closer to his chest, a flicker of dimness passing through his eyes.

Standing to the side were several young white-collar workers with backpacks and receding hairlines.

The hands they had been holding up with phones ready to record a joke lowered, and the mockery on their faces faded away completely.

"Five million people enjoy the sunshine alone, while fifty million share the remaining night."

A programmer wearing black-rimmed glasses murmured to himself, pushing up his slipping frames.

"This isn't sci-fi; this is writing about us."

"Squeezing onto the subway for two hours every day, leaving before dawn and finishing after dark, barely even seeing the sun... isn't that just living in the folded night?"

Another white-collar worker gave a bitter laugh, his gaze toward the stage showing a hint of soul-shaking shock.

The crowd that had been rowdy and ready to watch a joke gradually fell silent.

Several people in the front row unconsciously stood up straighter.

Looking at the seventeen-year-old boy on the stage, there was less contempt and more curiosity in their eyes.

A young man wearing a baseball cap rubbed his arm. He turned to his companion:

"I take back what I said. This kid isn't just arrogant; he has the capital to be arrogant.

Just for this 'folding' idea, I have to buy a copy of this book today."

His companion also nodded repeatedly.

"It's quite interesting. Just for this setting, if the wait in line gets too boring later, I might as well pick up a copy."

Just as the emotions of the entire audience were firmly gripped by the heavy core of "folding beijing,"

and everyone pricked up their ears, eager to hear if that underclass father named Old Knife finally raised enough tuition money,

Lin Que suddenly stopped.

Holding the microphone, his gaze swept across the faces below, all hungering for an answer. His tone was calm:

"As for whether Old Knife finally crossed that wall..."

He handed the microphone to the host beside him, leaving a perfect cliffhanger:

"The answers are all in the book."

The host reacted quickly, taking the microphone and catching the thread of the conversation steadily, his voice ringing out across the hall.

"Student Lin Que's sharing really leaves one wanting more! What exactly is Old Knife's fate? Can he break through that invisible wall of class?"

The host skillfully cut off the topic, hanging the ultimate suspense high.

"All the answers are hidden in "folding beijing," which officially goes on sale today! I believe this is definitely a masterpiece worth reading carefully!"

A chorus of regretful sighs immediately rose from the audience.

"Why stop there? The suspense is killing me."

"This kid really knows how to whet an appetite."

Many readers even started peering toward the signing table at the individual volumes of "folding beijing," a hint of desire to purchase appearing in their eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the exciting moment has arrived!" The host raised his volume, his tone passionate.

"Next, we invite Chairman Lu of the Shanghai Writers Association, Director Hu of the Publicity Office, and the nine winners of this competition to come onto the stage together!"

Chairman Lu walked forward with a smile, followed closely by Hu Yizhao.

The eight students, including Zhang Hao, Liu Yu, and Tang He, also left their seats.

Their steps were slightly excited as they walked to the center of the red carpet and stood side-by-side with Lin Que.

In the very center of the stage, two staff members pushed out a half-meter-high activation pedestal.

Across it lay a giant gilded lever, shimmering with a dazzling luster under the lights.

"Everyone, please place your hands on the lever."

The host stepped to one side and made a gesture of invitation.

Lin Que reached out his right hand and placed it on the edge of the lever. To his left was Tang He, and to his right was Chairman Lu.

Tang He's fingers trembled slightly, while Chairman Lu turned to nod appreciatively at Lin Que.

"Let's all count down together!"

The host raised his arm, his voice carrying throughout the hall.

"Three!"

The media reporters and front-row readers shouted along.

"Two!"

"One! Launch!"

Everyone pushed down the gilded lever together with force.

Accompanied by a piercing roar of sound effects, the lights in the hall dimmed in coordination.

The giant LED screen became the only light source in the room.

On the screen, a dark map of Huaxia slowly unfurled.

Immediately after, the locations of the four top-tier cities—Shanghai, Beijing, Guang City, and Shenzhen—simultaneously burst with brilliant golden light.

The light pierced through the darkness like swords.

Four pillars of light shot into the sky, interlacing in the center of the screen to form a dazzling net of light.

"A single spark can start a prairie fire, endless and eternal!"

Eight large gilded characters appeared on the screen.

The golden light projected onto the faces of every reader in the audience, coating this event—which was originally a commercial book signing—in a layer of almost sacred cultural heritage.

This visually impactful scene completely ignited the atmosphere.

It symbolized that the literary sparks belonging to the younger generation would be officially lit today from these four cities, sweeping across the country like a prairie fire.

The eight teenagers standing on stage felt their eyes grow warm as they looked at the line of text on the big screen.

At this moment, they truly felt the literary weight they carried on their shoulders.

Enthusiastic applause rang out again. Media flashes flickered wildly, and the sound of shutters clicking merged into one, recording this historic moment.

"I announce that the collection of award-winning works from the national finals of 'Fu Zhi Yao Competition' is officially on sale across all four cities!"

The host's voice resounded through the hall amidst the stirring background music.

The launch ceremony concluded successfully.

Chairman Lu patted Lin Que's shoulder and led Hu Yizhao and the others off the stage to rest in the VIP lounge.

The nine teenagers returned to their seats behind the signing table.

This time, the dejection on the faces of Zhang Hao and Liu Yu had vanished.

"Lin Que, what you said just now was so inspiring!"

Zhang Hao lowered his voice, excitedly pointing at the readers who hadn't dispersed yet.

"Look at the eyes of the people down there; they've all changed. I thought we were going to strike out today, but now it looks like we can sell at least a few hundred copies!"

Liu Yu pushed up his rimless glasses, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

"Just now, Chairman Lu personally came down to endorse us, and with Lin Que's hardcore plot summary, the desire to buy has already been stirred up."

Tang He sat on the edge, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the cover of "glass," her palms sweating slightly.

The eight teenagers looked at the readers below who were no longer heckling.

Their tense nerves relaxed slightly, and a faint sense of anticipation grew in their hearts.

As long as the first batch of readers was willing to pay, word of mouth would slowly ferment.

However,

before this tiny spark of hope could take root, a deafening cheer suddenly erupted from the left side of the hall.

"The checkout system is open! We can pay now!"

"Quick, let's go pay first, or we won't get the limited edition postcards!"

In an instant,

the crowd that had been looking toward the right,

was immediately pulled back by that massive gravitational force,

surging frantically toward the checkout counters on the left.

...