Li Bowen closed his eyes in despair.

He stepped out from behind Lin Que, his voice barely audible:

"Grandpa...Grandpa, what brings you here?"

"cough--"

Zhang Ya almost choked to death on her own saliva.

Her eyes widened, her mouth formed an "O" shape, and she pointed at Li Bowen, unable to speak for a long time.

After all that, it turns out that this science nerd, who usually only obsessively studies logic and writes articles like solving math problems,

He's actually Li Yuanchao's grandson?

Isn't this gene mutation a bit too outrageous?

This isn't a mutation, this is genetic fraud!

"I'm classmates with your principal, can't I come?"

Li Yuanchao rolled his eyes at his grandson, then turned to look at Lin Que.

That wrinkled face instantly blossomed into a smile, its change of expression as fast as a Sichuan opera performance.

"Kobayashi, it's been a long time."

Lin Que adjusted his expression and responded with a smile:

"Professor Li, I never expected to see you here. I still remember how you stood up against all odds for the students' essays."

Li Yuanchao smiled and waved his hand.

"That's because you wrote it well. I just don't want talent to be buried."

He then pointed to the middle-aged man next to him.

"Oh, let me introduce you. This is Lü Songran, the new chairman of the Jiangcheng Writers Association."

Lu Songran carefully examined Lin Que, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes.

He stood up slowly and gently extended his hand:

"Lin Que, do you still remember me? We met at the Qingyun Cup. I've read your essay 'Firefly' so many times!"

Lin Que shook hands with him, his touch dry and firm.

"I remember, Chairman Lü, you flatter me."

He subtly observed the new chairman.

Lü Songran smiled gently, his demeanor impeccably refined.

Compared to the rigidity of Wang Shouyi, he is clearly more suited to navigating the complexities of the literary world.

"Don't be shy, everyone, please sit down."

Fei Yuncheng invited the group to sit down, while he stood aside pouring water, willingly acting as a waiter.

"This visit is actually against the rules."

Li Yuanchao took a sip of tea and spoke slowly.

"More than a hundred students from the whole school made it to the preliminary rounds, but only the three of you were called here. It seems a bit like giving you special treatment."

Therefore, Chairman Lü and I are here today in a private capacity, not on behalf of the Writers' Association or Jiangnan University.

Li Bowen curled up beside the armrest of the single sofa.

Half of his body was almost shrouded in shadow, and his head was lowered even more than when he was doing practice problems.

This is the most tragic scene imaginable.

"The main reason is that I have a competition next week."

Lü Songran picked up the conversation.

"This 'Fuzhiyao' event is of a very high standard, and it is also highly valued by the higher authorities."

Although Jiangcheng is a major city for education, it has indeed been somewhat lacking in literature in recent years.

We also hope to encourage you.

“Especially you, Lin Que.”

Li Yuanchao put down his teacup, his gaze intense.

"I read your article 'Listening to the Snow.' It's a really good article."

Compared to the original "Firefly," it's less sharp and more profound.

That compassionate spirit towards humanity and the divine—it possesses a certain grandeur, truly rare!

Lin Que humbly replied:

"Professor Li, you flatter me. It was just something I wrote casually and it's not as good as you say."

"Oh? You just jotted it down?"

Li Yuanchao glanced at his grandson in the corner, his tone instantly turning one of disappointment and exasperation:

"Some people can scratch their scalp until it bleeds, but they still can't write with that kind of flair."

“Wenwen, I read your preliminary draft. The logic is sound, but it’s an expository essay, not a prose essay!”

Are you treating the judges like emotionless grading machines?

Li Bowen shrank back and muttered under his breath:

"Genetics is something that can't be guaranteed to work..."

"What did you say?"

Li Yuanchao raised his eyebrows.

"No...it's nothing."

Li Bowen quickly shut up, his survival instinct kicking in.

Seeing this lively grandfather and grandson pair, the atmosphere in the office became much more relaxed.

Lin Que leaned back on the sofa, a smile playing on his lips.

Although this world is culturally barren, it doesn't seem so boring with these vibrant people.

Li Yuanchao cleared his throat, leaned forward slightly, and his expression became more serious:

"Xiaolin, there's something I'd like to ask you about."

...