Jiangcheng City Cultural Palace.

One of the few landmark buildings in the city.

Unlike the surrounding futuristic suspended tracks and holographic billboards.

The building retains the rustic style of the last century.

The gray brick walls and tall columns exude a solemnity that seems out of place with the times.

Lin Que stood in the square in front of the Cultural Palace, carrying a simple schoolbag.

I looked up at the huge banner hanging at the entrance—

"The semi-finals of the 18th Qingyun Cup Middle School Students' On-site Writing Competition in Jiangcheng City".

He pursed his lips, finding it somewhat amusing.

In his past life,

For the sake of a script's naming rights, he was willing to drink until he suffered a stomach hemorrhage at a dinner with investors.

Now, I have to come back and compete with a bunch of high school students who haven't even grown up yet in writing 800-word essays.

Life is truly full of dark humor.

Lin Que's gaze swept across the crowd and settled on a familiar figure beside a Roman column.

Shen Qingqiu.

She wasn't wearing her signature business suit today; instead, she wore a beige trench coat.

The light blue turtleneck sweater made her face look even paler.

Gone is the sharpness of the past; instead, it exudes a sense of weariness and softness.

She was forcing herself to stay awake, and even her gaze towards people seemed less focused.

The shock of "Human World is Like Prison" has kept her up at night for several nights.

Lin Que walked over quickly.

"Teacher Shen, I'm here."

Shen Qingqiu's expression was complicated when she saw him.

She opened her mouth,

But looking at the noisy surroundings, he ultimately swallowed his words.

"Okay, good to see you here. Sign in and get ready to go in."

Her tone returned to its usual coldness.

"Oh, isn't this Lin Que?"

While I was signing in, a sarcastic voice rang out from the side.

Lin Que turned his head and saw Zhang Ya, their class's academic representative.

She was walking over arm in arm with a classmate wearing a school uniform from another school.

"I never expected you to participate in the semi-finals. Professor Shen really has a keen eye."

She deliberately emphasized the phrase "having keen insight," and anyone could hear the sarcasm in it.

Last time,

Shen Qingqiu announced in front of the whole class that Lin Que and she would represent the school in the competition, which made her feel resentful ever since.

In her opinion,

Lin Que, a poor student who relies on a little cleverness to write sensationalist things, is an insult to literature.

Therefore, I am ashamed to associate with him.

"Yes, I didn't expect that either."

Lin Que was too lazy to argue with her and replied in a flat tone.

"Maybe it's because I'm good-looking."

"you!"

Zhang Ya was speechless at his shameless words, and her face turned bright red.

She pushed up her thick-rimmed glasses and snorted angrily.

"Lin Que, the competition is not a place for you to write those mystical things to grab attention."

If the theme this time is a grand narrative, your clever tricks won't be of much use.

Don't go off-topic and embarrass our school.

After saying that, she took her friend's hand and walked into the examination room with an air of arrogance.

Lin Que watched their retreating figures, feeling somewhat bored.

Arguing with these kids really lowers my own standards.

He yawned and slowly followed them inside.

Shen Qingqiu called out to him, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping herself.

“Um… Lin Que. Remember what I told you, the judges are rather conservative, so you… you should take it easy when you write.”

She wanted to say, "Don't write those scary things," but then she realized it wouldn't be appropriate.

She is feeling conflicted right now.

On the one hand, as a teacher, she hoped that Lin Que could get a good ranking and bring glory to the school.

On the other hand, deep down I was secretly looking forward to seeing what other amazing things this young man could write.

"Understood, teacher."

Lin Que nodded, his expression revealing nothing.

The competition venue was the auditorium on the third floor of the Cultural Palace, where many students were already seated.

The participating students sat in their designated seats, spaced far apart from each other, eliminating any possibility of cheating.

Lin Que found his exam area at No. 1 High School and sat down in the seat with his name on it.

A row of judges sat at the front of the classroom.

Lin Que glanced at them and saw that there were about five or six people, all of whom were middle-aged or elderly people with gray hair and wearing reading glasses.

He looked like a highly respected old scholar.

Sitting in the very center was an elderly man with a thin face and a serious expression.

The nameplate on his chest reads:

Chairman of the Jiangcheng Writers Association.

Wang Shouyi.

Lin Que understood.

As his name suggests, this man is probably the leading figure of the "conservative faction" that Shen Qingqiu mentioned.

At 9:00 a.m. sharp, the bell rang.

Wang Shouyi cleared his throat, picked up the microphone, and began to speak in a formal, inflectional tone.

"Students and teachers, welcome to the semi-finals of the 18th Qingyun Cup Middle School Student On-site Writing Competition in Jiangcheng City."