477: Chapter 477, a novella, is a road.

The murmur of discussion in the classroom could not be suppressed.

"Fieldwork!!! Is it finally coming?"

"Four weeks? That's a whole month!"

"Are we really going?"

"So sudden."

"They won't actually throw us onto a construction site, will they?"

"I could handle a construction site, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to write anything even if I went there."

Chen Jiahao's eyes lit up as he listened.

"Master Que, four weeks of fieldwork! Doesn't this mean we're really going to go find the dirt?"

Lin Que glanced at him and nodded.

Xu Changge looked down at his clean fingers.

He had been to many places growing up.

But they were nothing more than museums and bookstores.

However, those places were too suitable for being observed.

He rarely truly entered the daily life of an ordinary person.

The steamed buns, the shouting, the hot soup, and the fried dough sticks at the morning market in Beihai that day had instead become his most unforgettable memory of this period.

Dai Shengzong did not immediately suppress the discussion.

He gave them half a minute.

To let both the excitement and the nervousness surface.

Half a minute later, he raised his hand.

The classroom fell silent.

"You don't need to be too excited."

"Fieldwork is not tourism."

"We will not arrange comfortable routes for you, nor will we let you just glance at things superficially."

"Everyone will be assigned to a different location, and there is only one principle: avoid the place you are most familiar with and most comfortable in."

"Towns, factory areas, mining areas, border ports, old neighborhoods, county hospitals, and grassroots schools are all on the list of candidates."

At this, the expressions of a few students began to stiffen.

The boy who had just said "They won't make us move bricks, will they?" whispered, "This sounds even harder than moving bricks."

The girl next to him replied, "You can apply to move bricks; maybe it'll be easier."

"..."

Dai Shengzong continued, "During the fieldwork, you must complete basic observation journals."

"No less than one thousand words per day."

"This part will not count towards your final literature grade, but it will determine whether you are qualified to enter the next stage."

Someone gasped.

One thousand words of observation journals every day, for four consecutive weeks.

And that was just the foundation.

Professor Liu Zuoqing added from the side.

"Don't even think about writing a chronological account."

"If you submit things like waking up in the morning, eating, walking, and sleeping, I will make you rewrite it on the spot."

The few students who had just had devious thoughts lowered their heads.

Dai Shengzong took back the microphone.

"After returning from fieldwork, everyone must submit a novel that meets the rules for a novella."

The classroom went silent for a moment.

Then, wails erupted in waves.

"A novella?"

"Starting at fifty thousand words?"

"Within one hundred thousand words, right?"

"Four weeks of fieldwork, plus writing a novella—this intensity is too high!"

"I was almost worked to death on the short story; how can I handle a novella?"

"The longest thing I've ever written was thirty-two thousand words."

Chen Jiahao slumped over his desk.

"Master Que, help me."

Lin Que turned a page of his notes.

"Doesn't your family run a business? Writing a fifty-thousand-word business plan shouldn't be hard."

Chen Jiahao looked up at him in pain.

"Business plans have templates, but novels don't."

Lin Que said, "You can also start by writing the table of contents."

Chen Jiahao sat up straight immediately.

"Master Que, do you have a way?"

Lin Que glanced at him.

"First, survive until ten o'clock the night after tomorrow."

Chen Jiahao slumped back down.

Xu Changge couldn't help but chuckle as he listened to their conversation.

But after the laugh, his expression quickly became serious again.

The novella was also a new problem for him.

He was good at structure and precise control in short stories.

Five thousand words, ten thousand words, twenty thousand words—he could place every image in the most suitable position.

But beyond fifty thousand words, characters need to come alive, life needs to unfold, and the plot threads will grow their own branching paths.

If he continued to write while suppressing it with the meticulously crafted style of the past, the work would likely become a beautiful object—cold, accurate, and complete—but with no one truly living inside it.

He thought of the sentence Jian Shen had just said.

A good story never rushes.

Xu Changge wrote two words in his notebook.

"Let go."

Beside him, Dan Yi did not wail.

He just wrote the four characters for "border port" on the paper.

After writing it, he crossed it out.

He came from the northernmost border city and was no stranger to the border.

But precisely because he was familiar with it, he knew all too well that he was prone to falling into the trauma of the past.

He looked up at Lin Que.

Lin Que was looking down, organizing his manuscript with a calm expression.

One month, fifty to one hundred thousand words.

Many people were already breathless from the word count.

What Lin Que really needed to consider was which story to invite out of his memories this time.

On the podium, Dai Shengzong's summary continued.

"It is normal for you to be afraid."

"Short stories emphasize hitting the mark with one strike."

"Novellas test endurance, structure, and the ability of characters to continue growing."

"If a short story is a knife in your hands, a novella is a road."

"There will be crossroads, mud, and pits on the road, as well as people you did not expect."

"This time, what we want to see is whether you can finish the road."

He paused.

"The Qinglan Project does not cultivate people who only know how to show off on paper."

"What we want are people who can walk into reality and bring reality back into literature."

"This is also the true assignment Jian Shen left in today's class."

The classroom gradually quieted down.

The wails from just a moment ago were still lingering in the air.

But everyone's gaze had changed.

The pressure was still there.

But beneath that pressure, there was already a clearer direction.

Professor Liu Zuoqing took the microphone, returning to his usual crisp style.

"The arrangements are finished."

"After ten o'clock the day after tomorrow morning, the backend will be closed."

Chen Jiahao whispered, "This is too scary."

Professor Liu Zuoqing looked over.

"Chen Jiahao."

Chen Jiahao immediately straightened up.

"Here!"

"Since your voice is so loud, your manuscript had better have just as much confidence."

A wave of suppressed laughter erupted in the classroom.

Chen Jiahao's ears turned red.

"I will try my best, Professor Liu."

Professor Liu Zuoqing nodded and looked at the whole room.

"Class dismissed."

When these two words fell, the classroom did not disperse immediately.

Many people were still sitting in their seats, flipping through their notes.

Some had already torn off the first page of their original draft.

Some took out their phones to look up information related to fieldwork.

Some stared at blank documents, their expressions more bitter than before class.

Tang He was the first to stand up.

She walked to Lin Que's side and paused.

"Just now, Teacher Jian Shen asked you to answer that question."

Lin Que looked up.

"Hmm?"

Tang He looked at him.

"You didn't answer by following the prompt to a high level just now."

She paused and added another sentence.

"You dragged the question back to the people. I have a feeling your manuscript will probably be terrifying during the public review the day after tomorrow."

Chen Jiahao immediately interrupted.

"Sister Tang, does it need a 'probably'? When is Master Que's manuscript ever not terrifying?"

Tang He ignored him and just looked at Lin Que.

"I will rewrite it."

Lin Que nodded.

Tang He walked away holding her notebook.

The tall, thin boy at the door also stood up, hesitated for a few seconds, and walked towards Lin Que's side.

He held those three printed pages, his voice a little dry.

"Lin Que."

Chen Jiahao looked up.

"Something up?"

The tall, thin boy looked at Chen Jiahao, then at Lin Que.

"I didn't mean anything else by what I said about it being a waste of effort."

Lin Que put his pen into his pencil case.

"I know."

The tall, thin boy let out a sigh of relief.

"I just feel a bit reluctant to let it go."

He said, crumpling his three pages of manuscript even more.

"I wrote for four days and deleted it many times. Now that I have to overturn it, it feels like those four days were all for nothing."

Lin Que looked at him.

"It's normal to feel reluctant."

The tall, thin boy looked up.

Lin Que said:

"What you are reluctant to let go of is not necessarily the sentences."

"Often, it's the bit of emotion you poured into it while staying up late."

The tall, thin boy was stunned.

Lin Que continued to organize his things.

"Distinguish between the two, then decide whether to delete it or not."

The tall, thin boy stood in place, and after a few seconds, whispered a "Thank you."

After returning to his seat, he tore off the first page directly.

This scene was seen by several people around.

Someone whispered: "Lin Que's two sentences are more useful than me struggling for a whole night."

"No wonder the mentors are all willing to hand problems over to him."

"He can really grasp the crux of the matter."

"I'm starting to worry about his manuscript now. If Teacher Jian Shen can't find any faults during the public review, how are we supposed to live?"

This sentence drifted into Chen Jiahao's ears.

He immediately turned his head.

"So what if he can't find any faults? Master Que is already at a cut-above level."

That person was choked by what he said.

Xu Changge closed his notebook and stood up.

"Let's go."

Chen Jiahao looked at Lin Que.

"Back to the dorm? I have to tear apart my crappy draft immediately."

Dan Yi also packed his things.

"I'm going to the library."

Chen Jiahao turned his head immediately.

"You're going to grind too?"

Dan Yi said: "To look up information."

Chen Jiahao covered his forehead and lowered his voice.

"It's over, our drowning man has started to climb ashore to study."

Dan Yi looked at him.

"If you don't write, you'll really drown."

Chen Jiahao didn't respond for a moment.

Xu Changge laughed out loud for once.

The four of them followed the crowd out.

At the classroom door, Song Yuan was assisting some staff in organizing the equipment registration forms.

He saw Lin Que and nodded in greeting.

Lin Que also nodded in response.

Several masters were still staying near the podium and had not left.

Cui Wen was snapping his silver-gray briefcase shut.

Professor Liu Zuoqing and Dai Shengzong were talking in low voices.

Su Mubai was standing by the window, holding a thin booklet in his hand.

Xu Zhengqing was sitting in the last row, his gaze falling on Lin Que, pausing for two seconds, then turning away.

Lin Que, Xu Changge, and the others walked out of the teaching building.

The wind outside was stronger than in the morning.

Ginkgo leaves were blown to the steps, and stepping on them made a very light, crisp sound.

Chen Jiahao muttered as he walked.

"The day after tomorrow at ten, public review, four weeks of fieldwork, novella."

"Why do I feel like my life has already been arranged clearly and plainly?"

Chen Jiahao looked at Lin Que.

"Master Que, aren't you going to give a pre-battle pep talk?"

Lin Que took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it.

"The pep talk is just one sentence."

Chen Jiahao immediately pricked up his ears.

Lin Que said: "First, survive tonight."

Chen Jiahao: "..."

Xu Changge glanced at Lin Que.

He always felt that when Lin Que looked at his phone just now, his whole rhythm had switched for a split second.

Very short.

Short enough that anyone else wouldn't have noticed at all.

But Xu Changge was becoming increasingly sensitive to such details.

He didn't ask further.

Xu Changge knew very well that Lin Que had many things he didn't want to lay out yet. Proximity between friends should also have a line that shouldn't be crossed.

Lin Que didn't give him a chance to observe further either.

When they reached the fork to the dormitory, Lin Que stopped.

"You guys go back first."

Chen Jiahao turned back.

"Master Que, where are you going?"

"I have something to do, I need to go back to my rented apartment to handle it."

"Eating?"

"Later."

Chen Jiahao wanted to ask more, but was stopped by Xu Changge.

Xu Changge looked at Lin Que.

"Don't push yourself too hard."

Lin Que smiled.

"Don't worry."

Dan Yi looked at him, didn't speak, just pulled his hat brim down, and followed Chen Jiahao towards the dormitory.

The three figures were soon blocked by the tree shadows on the side of the road.

Lin Que stood in place, waiting for them to walk far away.

Then, he turned around.

He didn't go to the cafeteria.

He didn't go back to the dormitory either.

He walked along the path he had just come from, heading back toward the teaching building.

Lin Que stepped onto the steps of the teaching building.

The corridor, which had just been crowded with students, was already empty, and the wind crawled in through the cracks in the windows, curling a few ginkgo leaves against the corner of the wall.

The door to the tiered classroom hadn't been closed tightly yet.

A bit of cold white light leaked through the door crack, and the sound of equipment fans turning low could be heard inside.

Lin Que's hand had just been raised to the door.

Cui Wen's voice came from inside.

"Since you're here, come in."