76: Let's talk about fear again.

Saturday.

New Tide Magazine Office.

A low-pressure atmosphere permeated the air.

Xu Lan held a stack of documents, walking on tiptoes,

afraid of making even the slightest sound that might disturb the “Great Buddha” in the Editor-in-Chief's office.

The office door was ajar.

Inside sat a middle-aged man.

He was dressed in a suit and leather shoes, his hair slicked back smoothly.

Fu Bencai,

the Editor-in-Chief of Suyin Magazine Office and a popular figure in the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles.

At this moment, he was sitting with his legs crossed,

holding the Pu'er tea that Wang De'an treasured, and smacking his lips.

"Old Wang, it's not that I want to criticize you."

Fu Bencai put down the teacup.

"This tea lacks sufficient aging. Come to my place another day, and I'll give you two cakes of truly good tea."

Wang De'an sat across from him, wearing a polite smile and holding a cigarette case.

"Editor-in-Chief Fu, you didn't travel all this way just to invite me for tea, did you?"

"Of course not."

Fu Bencai smiled,

took a contract out of his briefcase, and pushed it toward Wang De'an.

"I came specifically this time because I value talent."

"Jian Shen is a rare and exceptional author.

A book like The Miracles of the Namiya General Store, published by your New Tide, is a pearl cast before swine."

Fu Bencai knocked on the table, creating an aggressive sound.

"Our Suyin has the best distribution channels in the province, and recommendation resources from the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles.

We can even help him pursue various literary awards. Entrusting him to me is also being responsible for his career."

Wang De'an didn't even look at the contract.

"Editor-in-Chief Fu, we discussed this over the phone last time."

Wang De'an lit a cigarette, and his gaze gradually hardened amidst the rising smoke.

"I also replied to you then. Teacher Jian Shen is unwilling."

"Unwilling?"

Fu Bencai sneered.

"Old Wang, we're all this age now, stop playing games.

Is he truly unwilling, or is it because you haven't offered him the right terms?

Or are you, Wang De'an, deliberately holding onto him out of selfish motives?"

Fu Bencai paused and changed his tone.

"Old Wang, sentimentality is worthless in the face of resources."

Fu Bencai leaned back against the chair, his fingers lightly tapping the desk.

"The list of key provincial support projects for next year is about to be finalized.

Suyin has slots, but your New Tide... you know that the print media is currently facing a harsh winter.

Whether many magazine offices can survive next spring is just a matter of a single word from above.

Sacrificing the livelihoods of everyone in the office for one author—is that your vision?"

A naked threat.

Xu Lan, standing outside the door, felt her blood rush,

wishing she could rush in and smash the documents in her hands onto that greasy face.

Wang De'an remained silent.

He smoked, puff after puff.

Fu Bencai saw that he wasn't speaking and assumed he was scared,

a triumphant smile appearing on his face.

"A wise man submits to circumstances.

Old Wang, give me Jian Shen's contact information, and this matter is settled."

Wang De'an stubbed out the cigarette.

He looked up at Fu Bencai and suddenly smiled.

"Editor-in-Chief Fu, do you know something Teacher Jian Shen once told me?"

"What?"

"He said, if you want to collaborate, first learn to speak like a human."

Fu Bencai's smile froze on his face, which instantly flushed red:

"What did you say?!"

"I said, you can't understand human speech."

Wang De'an stood up.

Although he wasn't as tall as Fu Bencai, his aura was in no way inferior.

"This is New Tide, not your Suyin.

Don't try to pressure me with your bureaucratic style."

"Teacher Jian Shen is right here, but he doesn't want to see you."

Wang De'an pointed to his own chest.

"Because he thinks you are unworthy."

"You!"

Fu Bencai trembled with rage, pointing at Wang De'an's nose.

"Fine! Fine, you Wang De'an! You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!

You just wait! I'll see how many more days this broken magazine of yours can run!"

With that, he grabbed his briefcase and stormed out of the office in a fit of pique.

As he passed Xu Lan, he glared fiercely at her.

Xu Lan met his gaze, wearing a standard professional fake smile,

stepped aside to open the door, and made an exaggerated "Please" gesture.

"Editor-in-Chief Fu, take care, watch out for slippery floors."

Fu Bencai snorted coldly, adjusted his tie which had been crooked by anger,

and strode out, pushing the door open forcefully.

In the office, Wang De'an let out a long breath,

slumping into his chair as if completely exhausted.

Xu Lan cautiously walked in:

"Editor-in-Chief, are you alright? That was so cool just now!"

Wang De'an gave a wry smile:

"What good is being cool? Now we've completely offended this plague god.

The days ahead will probably be tough."

"What are you afraid of!"

Xu Lan waved her fist.

"We have Teacher Jian Shen! As long as he's here, we have nothing to fear!"

"Yes, with him..."

Wang De'an looked at the computer screen.

It displayed the draft of the first chapter of ""the ferryman"".

"Xu Lan, notify the Layout Department, they'll be working overtime tonight.

Get the preview for ""the ferryman"" laid out,

I want to deliver a resounding slap to Fu Bencai in the next issue of the magazine."

...Meanwhile, Lin Que was spacing out in his SOHO studio,

staring blankly at the computer screen.

On the screen were two completely different documents.

The left was the detailed outline for the latest chapter of the human world is like a prison, and the right was the opening plan for ""the ferryman"".

One side was an Asura field where fierce ghosts roared, and the other was a ferry boat where souls found peace.

Lin Que felt as if he had been split in two.

Half was looking up at the stars from the gutter, and the other half was looking down at the abyss from under the stars.

The email notification sounded; it was a message from Wang De'an.

[Wang De'an: Fu Bencai came by and I chased him away.]

[Wang De'an: Teacher Jian Shen, this time I've staked everything I have on ""the ferryman"".]

Lin Que smiled and replied with a message.

[Don't worry.]

Putting down his phone, Lin Que's fingers flew across the keyboard.

"""The Ferryman,""" Chapter One:

[If I truly exist, it is because you need me.]

The wind of the desolate plains was about to blow into this world... Monday's long recess.

On the playground of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School,

the banner reading "Commendation Ceremony" was visible across the entire campus, and thousands of students were lined up neatly.

Just moments ago, Zhang Ya and Zhao Zichen finished their respective speeches.

The content was monotonous, thanking everyone from top to bottom.

Next came the highlight of the ceremony.

On the Chairman's platform, Fei Yuncheng held a speech manuscript,

nervously staring at Lin Que, who was waiting nearby.

"Lin Que, let me confirm the manuscript again."

Fei Yuncheng lowered his voice.

"The first paragraph thanks the school, the second thanks the teachers, the third shares study experience,

and the last elevates the theme to aspiring to serve the country. Is that right?"

Lin Que, wearing a faded school uniform, hands in his pockets, looked obedient:

"No problem, Fei Yuncheng. I've memorized it perfectly."

"That's good, that's good."

Director Fei stared into Lin Que's eyes, his lowered voice carrying a hint of pleading:

"Lin Que, the head of the Municipal Bureau is sitting right there below the stage.

You absolutely must read it word for word. Don't improvise."

Lin Que blinked, flashing a harmless smile,

and even thoughtfully helped Fei Yuncheng straighten his crooked ID badge:

"Don't worry, Director, I'm the kind of person who takes advice."

As the host announced him, Lin Que walked onto the Chairman's platform.

The morning wind lifted the hem of his clothes, making him look somewhat fragile.

Below the stage, thousands of eyes were fixed on him.

There was envy, jealousy, but mostly numb waiting—

waiting for yet another monotonous speech full of nonsense.

Lin Que stood before the microphone,

pulling out the neatly folded speech manuscript from his pocket.

Fei Yuncheng sighed in relief beside him.

However, the next second, Lin Que did not unfold the manuscript,

but placed it on the podium, holding it down with a paperweight.

He looked up, without glancing at the manuscript.

"Hello everyone, I am Lin Que, from Class Three, Grade Two."

His voice was clear and carried across the playground through the speakers.

"Director Fei just asked me to thank the school and thank the teachers.

I think those words are too polite; everyone is tired of hearing them, and I'm tired of saying them."

Fei Yuncheng's smile froze on his face, and the thermos cup in his hand nearly dropped to the ground.

He wanted to rush up and stop him, but it was too late.

Lin Que saw the nervousness on Director Fei's face and gave him an "OK" gesture.

"Today, I want to talk to everyone... about fear again."

...