on Monday.

The latest issue of "Jiangcheng Literature" was delivered to the school's reading room.

This official journal, which is usually ignored, has become the focus of attention today.

"Look, look! This is it!"

"Firefly! It's really been published!"

Several well-informed students gathered around the bookshelves in the reading room, whispering excitedly as they flipped through the pages.

The news quickly spread throughout the school.

"Really? Lin Que's essay was published in a magazine?"

"Holy crap, I just checked, it's in the last segment called 'New Voice'!"

There's also an editor's note preceding it, which I think was written by the editor-in-chief himself, and it's extremely high-rated!

Upon hearing this, Wu Di immediately straightened his back.

He nudged Lin Que, who was dozing off beside him, with his elbow.

"Brother Que! Brother Que! Did you hear that? You're on TV! No, you're in a magazine!"

Lin Que didn't even lift his eyelids, and gave a vague "hmm".

Wu Di got anxious:

"Brother! This is 'Jiangcheng Literature'! It's officially certified!"

Can you at least give me some feedback? This is way more impressive than winning that lousy competition!

"oh."

Lin Que finally raised his head and yawned.

"We should at least add a chicken leg to celebrate tonight."

Wu Di looked at his carefree attitude,

I felt a lump in my throat, and I almost couldn't breathe.

The saying "the emperor isn't worried, but the eunuch is" probably describes him perfectly.

In the front row, Zhang Ya's face was extremely grim.

She finally came to school today, but she looked rather haggard.

When she heard that Lin Que's essay had actually been published, her fingers unconsciously tightened around the pen.

She didn't believe it, she refused to accept it.

The short-haired girl next to her whispered:

"It's just getting published in a magazine. What's so special about that? Maybe Professor Li pulled some strings."

"that is."

Another girl chimed in.

"And look, the last column is obviously just there to fill space."

Unlike our Ya Ya, who won a proper third prize!

Zhang Ya's expression softened slightly after hearing these words of comfort.

She cleared her throat and, in a tone that tried to sound as objective and fair as possible, addressed the students around her:

"I also went to the reading room, and well..."

The story's concept is indeed clever, but the contrived elements are too obvious, and the plot twists seem forced for the sake of twists.

Moreover, the entire piece is permeated with a deliberately profound gloom.

The scope is too narrow, lacking genuine humanistic concern.

Such articles may grab attention, but their literary merit is questionable.

Her words drew unanimous agreement from her girlfriends.

But most of her classmates looked at her as if she were an idiot.

At this moment, Shen Qingqiu walked in, wearing high heels.

The whole class fell silent without prior agreement.

She held a brand-new copy of "Jiangcheng Literature" and a manila envelope in her hand.

His expression remained as aloof as ever, but his eyes held a complex and unfathomable depth.

She scanned the entire class, her gaze lingering on Lin Que for a second.

Then he placed the magazine and envelope on the podium with a light touch.

"I'm sure everyone knows about Lin Que's essay being published."

She picked up the book "Jiangcheng Literature and Art," turned to the last page, and...

He was addressing the whole class, yet it also felt like he was addressing a specific person.

"Some students believe that this article was published through back channels and that it was placed in the last column just to make up the number of entries."

Her gaze swept over Zhang Ya's deathly pale face.

"But the editor-in-chief of Jiangcheng Literature and Art wrote an editor's note for this column and for this article."

I think this carries more weight than any award.

She paused, then picked up the envelope.

"Lin Que, come out here for a moment."

Lin Que lazily stood up and walked to the classroom door under the watchful eyes of the entire class.

Shen Qingqiu handed him the envelope and lowered her voice:

"This is what Professor Li asked me to pass on. It's your article's royalties, five thousand yuan. Be careful with it."