"The fact that you can think this way proves that you have really grown up."
Shen Qingqiu's voice carried the pride of a teacher.
"From now on, we will work hard in this direction."
Stop writing unconventional works like "Fireflies".
I believe that with your talent, you might very well become someone like Professor Jian Shen in the future.
"Thank you, teacher."
Lin Que stood up and bowed deeply.
"I will definitely work hard, absorb positive energy, and live up to your expectations."
Watching Lin Que's departing figure, Shen Qingqiu leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh of relief.
She felt she had finally taken control of the situation.
She even began to look forward to what surprises Lin Que's next essay would bring.
...
night.
28th floor, SOHO Future City.
Lin Que threw himself into the ergonomic chair.
He turned on his computer but did not log in to Hongguo.com.
Wang Shouyi is probably still angry. Making any rash updates would be like giving him ammunition.
Let him suffer for a few more days in the embers of the online community's demise.
He opened Jian Shen's dedicated email address.
Xu Lan, the editor of "New Tide", has already sent several emails.
The latest one is a huge compressed file.
【Dear Professor Jian Shen, this is the first batch of letters we selected from a flood of reader submissions.】
We've done some preliminary categorization based on the contents of the letters. Please take a look and see if there's anything that interests you.
Lin Que unzipped the file.
Inside were scanned copies of hundreds of letters, divided into several folders such as "About Dreams," "About Love," and "About Family."
He casually opened the folder "About Dreams".
[Dear Professor Jian Shen, I am an art student, and I draw very well. However, my parents think it's a waste of time and are forcing me to take the civil service exam. What should I do?]
[Dear Mr. Jian Shen, I'm 35 years old and working as a junior manager at a mediocre company. But I've always had a rock and roll dream. Is it too late for me to quit my job and form a band?]
...
Most of them are ordinary life troubles.
Lin Que quickly browsed through the pages, his fingertips unconsciously sliding across the mouse.
For him, answering these questions was not difficult.
In his previous life, when he was a screenwriter, he studied countless character biographies and psychological models.
It can easily provide the most standard and comforting answer.
But that's a completely different thing from how he feels when he's writing novels.
In the novel,
He can play God and control the fate of his characters.
And here,
He was facing real, living people.
He was about to close the folder.
But my attention was drawn to the title of the last letter.
It was an unclassified letter with a title consisting of only one word:
[SOS]
Lin Que's heart stirred, and he clicked on it.
The letter paper was the kind of card-style letter paper used by elementary school students.
It also features a cute rabbit pattern.
The handwriting is that of an elementary school student.
It's crooked and uneven, but each stroke is written with great effort.
Hello, Grandpa Namiya.
My name is Xiaoduo, and I'm nine years old. My mom says that if I write my troubles in a letter and drop it into a magical general store, I'll get help. Is this the general store?
My problem is that my dad always hits my mom.
He hits me when he's drunk, and he also hits me when he's not drunk but in a bad mood. My mother is always covered in bruises, and she cries secretly at night.
I'm scared.
I told the teacher, and the teacher talked to my dad. That night, my dad beat my mom even more severely. He also said that if I dared to say anything out of line again, he would beat me to death.
Grandpa Namiya, I don't want to stay in this house anymore.
I want to run away with my mom, is that okay? Where should we run to?
At the end of the letter was a smiley face drawn with a red marker.
But two equally red, crooked tear tracks were streaming down her smiling eyes.
...
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