48: Doctors and nurses

Thunderous applause erupted.

Zhou Yang froze in place, the microphone still held high in mid-air.

That usually glib mouth opened and closed a few times, but in the end, nothing came out.

He had imagined countless endings.

Student Lin Que might angrily retort, might fall into panicked silence,

or even be led into his logical trap and admit that he preferred thrilling horror novels.

But the one thing he didn't calculate was,

that this teenage high school student could actually break free from the dead end of an "either-or" choice,

and stand at a higher dimension,

forcefully kneading the two irreconcilable factions together.

Doctors and nurses.

The scalpel and the suture.

This metaphor was too exquisite, and too impregnable.

"Reporter Zhou."

Wang De'an walked over with a glowing face,

seemingly patting Zhou Yang affectionately on the shoulder, but with astonishing force.

"It seems everyone is very satisfied with the answer given by our student representative.

Do you have anything else to ask? For instance... asking him his views on the hospital again?"

A burst of laughter erupted from the surroundings.

At this moment, the gazes of his peers looking at Zhou Yang,

undoubtedly, were full of gloating.

The journalism circle was like this;

if setting a trap succeeded and you got a blockbuster news story, it was your capability,

but if the trap failed and you were bitten by the prey instead, then you became a joke.

Zhou Yang's face turned livid, and he glared fiercely at Lin Que,

squeezing out of the crowd dejectedly, forgetting even to take his expensive camera.

"Alright, alright, dear media friends."

Shen Qingqiu timely stepped in front of Lin Que, resuming that stern yet polite teacher persona.

"Today's interview ends here."

She turned around and looked at the youth behind her.

Lin Que, who had originally stood tall and confident, talking eloquently just moments ago,

now slumped his shoulders and returned to that sleepy, lazy appearance,

even taking advantage of people's inattention to secretly loosen the tie that was choking him uncomfortably.

"Teacher, did I do okay?"

He muttered softly.

"You won't deduct points from my Chinese grade for this, right?"

Shen Qingqiu loosened her fingers tightly gripping the lesson plan.

Looking at the unserious youth before her, she suddenly felt that all her previous worries had become a redundant joke.

This "poisonous" tree had already formed a scenery of its own.

"No deductions, full marks."

Shen Qingqiu said softly.

Lin Que was stunned for a moment, then grinned:

"Can that be cashed out as an exemption from next week's early morning self-study?"

"What kind of good things are you dreaming about? Not making you write today's weekly journal is already me showing mercy!"

Shen Qingqiu glared at him,

but the smile at the bottom of her eyes could not be hidden no matter what.

Lin Que let out a wail,

and was driven toward the backstage by Shen Qingqiu like herding ducks.

...

Backstage lounge.

As soon as Lin Que stepped through the door,

he was surrounded by two warm flames.

"Son! You really brought honor to your dad!"

Lin Jianguo was flushed with excitement,

and the camera in his hand was still replaying the scene from just moments ago.

"Although Dad didn't quite catch that rotten meat stuff, seeing that reporter deflated made Dad feel so good!

What is this called? This is called having reason makes it possible to go anywhere!"

Wang Xiulian's eyes were even redder as she grabbed Lin Que's hand and wouldn't let go:

"I keep saying my son is the best! Those reporters too,

asking such strange questions, good thing my son is smart!"

Lin Que resignedly let his parents fuss over him, but his heart was filled with warmth.

Just at this moment, the door of the lounge was gently knocked.

A young woman wearing a beige windbreaker and ear-length short hair stood at the doorway,

holding an unopened copy of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store in her hand.

It was Xu Lan.

She looked at Lin Que, a complex gleam in her eyes.

"Student Lin Que, hello."

Xu Lan walked in and proactively extended her hand.

"I am Xu Lan, an editor at New Tide. I'm the one who sent you the text message."

Lin Que politely shook her hand:

"Hello Editor Xu, you must be laughing at me."

"No, you are the one who has enlightened us."

Xu Lan shook her head, her tone earnest.

"That metaphor just now, if I hadn't heard it with my own ears,

I would find it hard to believe it came from the mouth of a high school student.

Your understanding of pain and healing is deeper than that of many adult writers."

She paused, staring intently into Lin Que's eyes:

"Especially that line about without the former, pain cannot be seen clearly, and without the latter, one cannot survive pain.

May I boldly ask, you who wrote such despairing words as firefly,

usually... do you prefer being a doctor or a nurse?"

This was still a probe.

As the responsible editor of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store,

although she was grateful for Lin Que rescuing the situation today, as a literary professional, she sensed that

inside this youth's body, there truly seemed to dwell completely different souls.

Lin Que looked at Xu Lan.

He could see the sincerity in this female editor's eyes.

She was genuinely discussing literature, not trying to create gimmicks like Zhou Yang.

Therefore, he smiled and gave an ambiguous answer.

"Editor Xu, after getting off work, doctors and nurses are actually ordinary people."

Lin Que pointed at that copy of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store.

"Sometimes, when a doctor is tired, they also need to drop a letter into a general store.

Sometimes, when a nurse is angry, they might want to read ghost stories to relieve stress.

Don't you agree?"

Xu Lan was stunned for a moment, then closed the notebook in her hand.

She understood.

This answer was more perfect and more transparent than she had anticipated.

She murmured to herself, then broke into a smile.

"Student Lin Que, you're right. It's us who are too obsessed with labels."

She took a business card out of her bag and handed it to Lin Que with both hands.

"If you have new works, whether it's a scalpel like firefly or something else, you are always welcome to submit them to New Tide.

Our magazine, although focusing primarily on pure literature, doesn't exclude sharp things either."

Lin Que took the business card and tucked it into his pocket:

"Definitely."

...

The book signing was still ongoing, but the most exciting climax had already ended.

As the on-site video was uploaded to the internet by major media and self-media outlets,

this "line struggle" that was originally filled with gunpowder,

rapidly evolved into a national carnival.

# High School Student's God-Tier Metaphor #

# Doctors and Nurses #

# High School Student Angrily Rebukes Unscrupulous Reporter #

These few search terms rushed onto the hot search list at rocket speed.

Sun Jingshi's article "What Kind of Vanguard Do We Need",

originally intended to provoke antagonism, ended up having its comment section completely flooded with Lin Que's golden quotes.

[Professor Sun, listen to what the high school student said!

Stop making everything black and white all day long, adults in this world want both!]

[I want to see the Dream Weaver Great Master holding a scalpel, and I also want to see the Jian Shen Great Master holding a needle and thread. Does this conflict?

No conflict! I am just that patient bleeding while being sewn up, in pain yet happy!]

[This little older brother named Lin Que is way too handsome!

Upright values, great eloquence, and most importantly, that gaze—I love it, I love it!]

[Is it only me who thinks the CP pairing of Dream Weaver and Jian Shen is even more shippable now?

One is responsible for killing, the other is responsible for burying... oh no, responsible for saving. This is simply the epitome of a love-hate relationship!]

The direction of online public opinion had completely changed.

The originally tense and hostile "Dream Weaver fans" and "Jian Shen fans",

under the new concept of the "medical-nursing combination", had unexpectedly reached a certain eerie harmony.

Some people even started asking for comfort in the review section of the human world is like a prison,

and asking for thrills in the review section of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store.

...

Jinling.

Fang Zhenyun sat in his office,

watching the eloquently talking youth on the computer screen, his face so gloomy water could drip from it.

The ashtray in front of him was already stuffed with cigarette butts.

"Editor-in-Chief, regarding Zhou Yang's side..."

Assistant Xiao Liu spoke cautiously.

"Tell him to get back here."

Fang Zhenyun interrupted coldly.

"A good-for-nothing who ruins more than he accomplishes. I told him to dig a pit, but he ended up burying himself instead."

He turned off the video, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the desktop.

This round, he had lost again.

And he lost to a wet-behind-the-ears high school student.

That metaphor of "doctors and nurses" was like a loud slap,

striking his face, and also striking his meticulously constructed avant-garde theory.

Now, no matter how much he emphasized the critical nature of the human world is like a prison,

it would automatically be categorized by the public as a "scalpel"

——although sharp, it had to be used in conjunction with the "suture".

He wanted to kill Dream Weaver with praise, but instead ended up helping Jian Shen solidify his position.

Fang Zhenyun stubbed out a cigarette he had only taken two puffs of.

Staring fixedly at the youth on the screen.

"Xiao Liu."

Fang Zhenyun's voice was somewhat hoarse; he didn't turn back, merely pointing at the screen.

"Do you think these words are something a teenager could make up on the spot?"

Xiao Liu was stunned for a moment:

"Editor-in-Chief, do you mean... someone taught him?"

"No."

Fang Zhenyun shook his head.

"This cannot be taught."

He stubbed out the cigarette, with a force that almost crushed the cigarette butt into pieces.

"Go investigate. Even if you turn Jiangcheng upside down, dig out what's behind him."

Fang Zhenyun's voice was very soft, yet it exuded a chill.

"Yes."

Xiao Liu acknowledged the order and left.

Fang Zhenyun re-lit a cigarette, watching the neon lights gradually brightening outside the window.

"Lin Que..."

He exhaled a ring of smoke.

"Since you like playing the peacemaker so much, then let's see,

when a real scalpel cuts into your own body,

if you can still smile this composedly."

...