471: Chapter 471 Connecting with Mr. Jian Shen

Five titans lined up in front of the podium.

Professor Liu Zuoqing was in the center, Dai Shengzong stood to his right, and Elder Cui stood on the far side, carrying a silver-gray suitcase.

Su Mubai and Xu Zhengqing stood on either side, relaxed, like two old neighbors out for a stroll after dinner.

But no student dared to think that.

This lineup would be enough to headline a roundtable forum at any national literary event.

Right now, they were standing in front of an ordinary tiered classroom, their five gazes covering the room, and the backs of the Qinglan Project students were as stiff as steel bars.

Professor Liu Zuoqing walked to the microphone in the center of the podium.

He didn't rush to speak.

First, he rested his hands on the edge of the podium, leaned forward slightly, and let his gaze sweep across the students.

That gaze landed precisely on the middle seat of the first row.

Lin Que.

"Lin Que."

Professor Liu Zuoqing opened his mouth, his tone carrying a hint of undisguised teasing.

"You put on quite a show at Beihai Park the other day. Do you know my office phone has been ringing off the hook these past two days?"

Someone stifled a laugh.

Professor Liu Zuoqing gave a thumbs up.

"Professor Liu from the Renmin University Chinese Department called me, asking if I was hiding a poetry genius in the Qinglan Project, because their poetry club students were so beaten they wanted to quit the club."

Then he raised his index finger.

"Old Zhong from the Beijing Literature Research Institute sent me three voice messages, each over a minute long. The core message was one word: snatch. He wants to snatch you."

Then he raised his middle finger.

"The Ministry of Education also sent word, asking me to inquire if you'd be interested in participating in the Yayun Conference at the end of this year."

The atmosphere in the room shifted from tension to astonishment.

People on the left and right turned to look at Lin Que simultaneously.

Lin Que leaned back in his chair, hands crossed on the table, his posture unchanged from before.

Facing the collective gaze of five titans and Professor Liu Zuoqing's teasing, he merely nodded slightly.

Chen Jiahao, sitting next to him, was shaking with excitement.

He leaned in, whispering:

"Master Que, the Yayun Conference! That's the official annual year-end poetry gala. Anyone who can get on that stage is basically part of the elite circle of contemporary poetry!"

Lin Que didn't speak.

Seeing Lin Que's unmoving demeanor from the podium, Professor Liu Zuoqing's smile deepened.

He turned to look at his four colleagues behind him. Xu Zhengqing was stroking his non-existent beard, his eyes full of smiles.

"Alright, we'll talk about this later."

Professor Liu Zuoqing withdrew his finger, his tone shifting from relaxed to formal.

"Today, however, isn't about old news."

His gaze swept over the room again, very slowly, as if ensuring everyone was listening carefully.

"Everyone here, at midnight last night, New Tide APP and Hong Guo Net each launched two works."

Professor Liu Zuoqing paused.

"Raise your hand if you've read them."

Almost everyone raised their hands.

Some raised them hesitantly, clearly having only read the beginning before falling asleep.

Others raised them confidently, their faces showing the exhaustion and satisfaction of having pulled an all-nighter.

Chen Jiahao not only raised his hand, but his entire upper body sprang up from his chair,

his mouth opening as if ready to deliver a book review of at least three thousand words.

Seeing his posture, Professor Liu Zuoqing's mouth twitched.

"Sit down."

Chen Jiahao's bottom instantly nailed itself back to the chair.

Professor Liu Zuoqing nodded with satisfaction.

"Good."

He turned and walked to the side of the podium, where a laptop connected to a projector sat.

He didn't open it, just placed his hand on it, and turned his gaze back to the students.

"The format of today's class is different from the past."

The classroom went quiet.

That silence carried a premonition.

Over the past half-month, the thirty students had developed a conditioned reflex to these titans.

Whenever Professor Liu Zuoqing said the words "different,"

whatever followed would surely blow their minds.

"Me, Dean Dai, Elder Cui, Old Su, Old Xu."

Professor Liu Zuoqing pointed to the four people lined up behind him.

"None of us are lecturing today."

A pen slipped from someone's fingers in the front row, hitting the table with a crisp sound.

The classroom was silent for two seconds.

A boy sitting by the window finally couldn't help it and tentatively raised his hand.

"Professor Liu, then... what about the essays we submitted?"

As soon as these words were out, over twenty gazes in the room lifted immediately.

Clearly, this was the question everyone wanted to ask.

They had stayed up for days and nights, repeatedly overturning, revising, and rewriting, all for this review today.

Professor Liu Zuoqing looked at the boy.

He smiled.

He didn't answer.

This smile made the atmosphere in the classroom even tighter.

"We are just auditing today."

Professor Liu Zuoqing slowed his speech, stressing every word.

"The person who will truly be teaching you is a specially invited new friend."

The air froze.

"This friend, you have just read his writing."

Chen Jiahao's breathing stopped for a moment.

Professor Liu Zuoqing looked at the thirty faces filled with disbelief, and without stalling, he dropped the name.

"He is the author of 'ordinary world', Jian Shen."

Silence.

Absolute, vacuum-like silence.

It lasted for a full two seconds.

The next second, an extremely suppressed exclamation erupted from every row of seats.

"What?!"

Chen Jiahao slammed his hands on the desk, his entire body springing up half a seat,

and the water cup on the desk rattled in place.

His voice was loud enough to pierce the ceiling.

"Jian Shen? Teacher Jian Shen is going to teach us?!"

An uncontrollable burst of exclamations erupted from the back row.

"No way?"

"Jian Shen himself? Is this real?"

"Wait... doesn't he never show his face?"

The gazes of thirty students darted around the classroom, as if trying to find a stranger in every corner and every door crack.

Some subconsciously turned to look at the back door of the classroom.

Some stared at the side door behind the podium leading to the teachers' lounge.

Some even looked at the windows.

The buzzing discussion in the classroom was almost enough to flip the roof.

Lin Que sat in his seat, not moving at all.

His right hand rested on the table, his left hand tucked into his hoodie pocket.

His facial expression formed an almost comical contrast to the classmates around him who were excited to the point of fainting.

Xu Changge sat to his right.

Lin Que's peripheral vision swept over, and he could see Xu Changge's body leaning forward a few degrees, his fingertips resting on his knees, his knuckles slightly tightened.

Xu Changge's shock was well-hidden, but it couldn't be concealed.

"Jian Shen" meant something to this noble scion who had grown up surrounded by literary titans, and Lin Que knew exactly what it was.

In Xu Changge's cognitive system, the fact that Jian Shen wrote a work of the magnitude of 'ordinary world' already placed him in the same echelon as his grandfather.

Moreover, this person was extremely mysterious; he didn't show up at award ceremonies, and even the Chairman of the Writers Association had returned empty-handed after visiting personally.

And now, this person was going to teach them in person.

Dan Yi's reaction was more restrained than Xu Changge's.

He sat next to Chen Jiahao, his hat brim didn't move, his gray-blue pupils widened slightly, his lips pursed gently, and he didn't make a sound.

But his spine straightened.

On the podium, Professor Liu Zuoqing looked at the scene of being struck by lightning and exchanged glances with the four titans behind him.

Su Mubai had a faint smile on his lips, like he was watching a group of children opening gifts.

Xu Zhengqing stood to the side with his arms crossed, his gaze pausing for a moment on his grandson Xu Changge's face, then moving away nonchalantly.

Elder Cui placed the silver-gray suitcase on the table behind the podium,

moving unhurriedly, not opening it yet.

Dai Shengzong stood behind Professor Liu Zuoqing, hands behind his back, his expression the calmest of the five.

"Students."

Professor Liu Zuoqing raised his hand to press down, signaling everyone to be quiet.

His voice wasn't loud, but the noise in the classroom was suppressed by his one sentence.

"Stop looking."

Everyone's movements froze.

Professor Liu Zuoqing continued:

"Mr. Jian Shen is currently connecting via an encrypted node in Su Province, and his itinerary is not public.

Therefore, he will not appear in this classroom."

A sigh of disappointment arose from the audience.

Chen Jiahao's shoulders slumped, his face filled with regret.

He turned to Lin Que and muttered:

"I thought I'd be able to see a living person this time..."

"However."

Professor Liu Zuoqing raised a finger.

Everyone's attention was instantly pulled back.

"Dean Dai confirmed with Mr. Jian Shen's encrypted email through Xinchao Publishing House repeatedly, and finally set this two-hour window this morning.

He will teach everyone online via remote connection."

"But due to the need for identity confidentiality, Mr. Jian Shen will not use his original voice.

Today's connection uses a secondary voice-changing channel, and all responses will have a one to two-second system delay."

Real-time.

Online.

These two words hit them, and the disappointment in the classroom was quickly washed away, replaced by an even more fervent anticipation.

What does teaching online mean?

It means they can hear Jian Shen's voice.

It means a mysterious writer who has never appeared will have direct interaction with them using real language in this class today.

This is ten thousand times more precious than any pre-recorded audio.

Chen Jiahao's eyes reddened bit by bit.

He gripped the edge of the table tightly, as if just by letting go a little, the surging emotion in his chest would rush out on the spot.

From the first time he read the first chapter of 'ordinary world' on the New Tide APP,

from the moment he cried his eyes out reading the passage where Sun Shaoping read books by the streetlights under the bridge in Huangyuan City, the words "Jian Shen" had been carved into his spiritual world.

He had imagined countless times what this person looked like.

Was it a middle-aged person who had experienced hardship? A white-haired old educated youth? Or a young person about their age?

There was never an answer.

Jian Shen was like a cloud of fog.

Only words came out of that fog, hitting your heart word by word,

making you cry, making you hurt, making you believe again in the middle of the night that living itself is worth recording.

And today, a voice was about to come out of that fog.

Chen Jiahao sniffed hard, trying not to look too uncomposed in front of thirty classmates.

Xu Changge noticed his reaction and didn't say anything, just handed him a pack of tissues.

Chen Jiahao took it, whispered "Thanks, brother Changge," and then clutched the tissues in his hand, not pulling out a single one.

Dan Yi sat on the other side of Chen Jiahao.

He didn't have the externalized emotions like Chen Jiahao, but his body language betrayed him.

His hands were flat on the desk, his ten fingers crossed.

For Dan Yi, "Jian Shen" meant something else.

The hardship, struggle, and unwillingness of Sun Shaoping in 'ordinary world' formed a resonance across time and space with his own experiences in Mo City those years.

Those passages about eating black flour buns while hiding in a corner made him realize for the first time that hardship doesn't need to be beautified, nor does it need to be pitied.

It just needs to be written down truthfully.

That alone was enough.

Lin Que took all this in.

His expression remained unchanged.

If anyone were to observe his facial muscles closely at this moment, they would find a tiny arc at the corner of his mouth.

The amount of information contained in that arc was enough to write a whole novel.

On the podium, Professor Liu Zuoqing had already started giving technical instructions.

"The remote connection method is one-way video.

The connection end only receives the panoramic low-definition view of the classroom and the podium audio, to facilitate Mr. Jian Shen in judging the rhythm of the class."

Someone in the audience made a slight "ah" sound.

Professor Liu Zuoqing looked at the person.

"Mr. Jian Shen's identity has always been confidential. Everyone should be clear about this.

He is willing to teach you, which is already the first time in history.

Respecting his privacy is the bottom line."

Everyone nodded in unison.

No one raised any objection to this arrangement.

In this classroom, no student dared to say "no" to Jian Shen's choice.

Professor Liu Zuoqing turned with satisfaction and looked at Elder Cui.

Elder Cui was already squatting in front of the long table on the side of the podium, and the suitcase opened with a click.

Inside, a silver-white device, impossibly thin, was neatly arranged,

connected to two data cables and a pair of noise-canceling headphones with bone conduction microphones.

"I'll adjust the equipment."

Elder Cui didn't even look up, his fingers operating quickly on the device panel.

"The line delay is kept within thirty milliseconds, and the voice end reserves one to two seconds of processing time.

It's enough for classroom interaction."

Professor Liu Zuoqing nodded.

"Students, get ready."

He turned back to face the audience, his tone steady.

"The next two hours are Mr. Jian Shen's class for you.

The five of us will sit in the back and audit, not interfering, not commenting."

He paused and added,

"If there is a Q&A session, think carefully before speaking. It's a rare opportunity."

The audience was silent.

Thirty students sat upright in their respective seats, their posture comparable to military training.

No one dared to slack off.

Chen Jiahao's eyes were still red.

He bit his lower lip hard, swallowing all the words he wanted to shout back.

He just stared at the projection screen that hadn't lit up yet in front of the podium, his eyeballs unmoving.

Xu Changge sat to Lin Que's right, opened a blank notebook, and the cap of his carbon pen had already been unscrewed.

His fingers were steady and didn't shake at all, but he was gripping the pen three times harder than usual.

Dan Yi's hat brim was pushed to the highest point of his forehead.

His gray-blue eyes were completely exposed to the light, staring unblinkingly at the direction of the podium.

Lin Que leaned back in his chair.

His expression was calmer than anyone else in the classroom.

Even more relaxed than the five titans on the podium.

Chen Jiahao attributed this relaxation to "Master Que's consistent composure."

Xu Changge attributed it to "Lin Que's sense of rhythm that is never disturbed by the outside world."

Dan Yi didn't think about anything; his attention was entirely focused on the voice that was about to come.

Only Lin Que himself knew that his relaxation was justified.

The so-called "Mr. Jian Shen" far away in Su Province was sitting in the middle of the first row at this moment, hands crossed on the table,

watching thirty geniuses hold their breath because they were about to hear his voice.

This scene was more absurd than any script he had written in his previous life.

Elder Cui finished debugging the equipment on the podium side.

He stood up, patted the non-existent dust on his hands, and nodded to Professor Liu Zuoqing.

Professor Liu Zuoqing glanced at the watch on his wrist.

8:47 AM.

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the thirty young faces filled with anticipation and awe.

"It's about time."

Professor Liu Zuoqing's finger touched the connection button of the silver-white device.

"Are you all ready? I'm connecting to Mr. Jian Shen."

...