"Hahahaha! I'm dying of laughter! Wang Shouyi: Please, Master Jian Shen, come down from the mountain to slay the demons! Master Jian Shen: Okay, take this!"
"The most outrageous thing is that Wang Shouyi can't even refute it! How could he dare say that Jian Shen was wrong? He just hailed him as a god!"
"This is called an official betrayal, and it's the most lethal kind!"
...
Jiangcheng University, Professors' Apartment.
In the dead of night, a burst of hearty laughter suddenly erupted in Professor Li Yuanchao's apartment.
"Hahaha! Good! What a wonderful guardian shrine! That was a satisfying insult!"
He looked at the reply on the screen, his face flushed with excitement.
It's as if I'm seeing my younger self, the one who once commanded the world and wrote passionately.
Without the slightest hesitation, he directly forwarded Wang De'an's post using his own verified account.
Furthermore, a definitive comment was attached.
[Integrity lies in daring to confront injustice, not in building high walls. Professor Jian Shen embodies the spirit of our time! A salute to him!]
This comment, like a heavy hammer blow, completely shattered Wang Shouyi's last shred of dignity.
If Wang De'an's repost was the fuse that ignited the fire,
Professor Li Yuanchao's public endorsement of the movement was tantamount to igniting a war!
This signifies a complete break between the highest literary institution in Jiangcheng and the Writers' Association!
...
Municipal Writers Association.
The chairman's office was in a mess.
Wang Shouyi stared intently at the screen.
There was no anger in his bloodshot eyes, only heavy breathing.
The phone slipped from his trembling hand and fell to the ground.
The screen cracked into a spiderweb pattern, but he was completely unaware.
"traitor……"
He squeezed out broken syllables from his throat.
It's like questioning the void, or judging oneself.
"Why... am I right... I was clearly doing this for literature..."
He couldn't understand it!
He clearly occupied the moral high ground, he clearly wanted to purify the literary world, and he was clearly on the side of justice!
Why?
Why would the god he so cherished turn around and cast him into hell?!
"Ring ring—"
The landline on the desk rang at an inopportune moment.
Wang Shouyi took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his surging blood and qi, and grabbed the microphone.
On the other end of the phone was the calm, even indifferent, voice of Wang De'an, editor-in-chief of "New Tide".
"Chairman Wang, I heard you were looking for me?"
"Wang De'an!"
Wang Shouyi gritted his teeth.
"What do you mean by this? Are you trying to make an enemy of the Chinese literary world?!"
"Chairman Wang, I'm just an editor who published an article that I felt should be published."
Wang De'an's tone was neither warm nor cold.
"As for you, you probably don't represent the entire Chinese literary world either!"
Wang Shouyi's pupils suddenly contracted!
"you……!"
"Beep...beep...beep..."
The phone went dead, but Wang Shouyi still held the receiver, maintaining that posture.
After a long while, he slowly put it down.
His gaze swept across the office.
A plaque reading "Literature as a vehicle for conveying moral principles" hangs on the wall.
His bookshelves were filled with his proudest works and trophies.
These were his medals in the past.
He slowly reached out his hand, trembling.
He stroked a golden trophy, but ultimately let it fall limply.
Those hands that once wrote countless inspiring words
At this moment, I can no longer hold a pen.
...
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