From the crack, countless tiny, black tentacles emerged. Like hungry insects, they instantly covered my arms and burrowed into my body.
I feel my flesh and blood, my bones, everything I am, being devoured by it madly.
In my final moments before consciousness faded, I heard a voice echo in my mind. The voice was ancient, sinister, and full of mockery.
It said, "Thank you for my nourishment."
Then I saw that the spark I had nurtured with my entire life had transformed into a gigantic, ugly worm covered in black tentacles.
It spread its wings, let out a sharp screech, and spewed a thick, foul-smelling...darkness towards this sunless world.
[It turns out, Grandpa wasn't lying to me. The world really has welcomed a new sun.]
[A black sun.]
And I am the one who lit the fire of despair.
[It turns out, I am not a messenger of light. I, and the hope I represent, am merely a firefly that rushes into the darkness, ultimately giving birth to even greater darkness.]
That's all.
Li Yuanchao stood there blankly.
His mind was completely blank, and his hands and feet were ice cold.
An indescribable chill ran from his tailbone all the way up to the top of his head.
What...what is this?!
Where is the hope?!
This is a despair that is even more utterly devastating than having no hope at all!
He dedicated his life to pursuing the light, but in the end, he unleashed darkness with his own hands.
He thought he was Prometheus, the creator of a new world, but he turned out to be nothing more than nourishment to be used and devoured.
This is an instantaneous reversal from heaven to hell.
This most vicious and thorough deconstruction of the word "hope" made even Li Yuanchao, a literature professor in his fifties, feel uneasy.
He suddenly looked up at Lin Que.
The boy had put down his pen and was sitting there quietly.
A faint smile played on his face, like the smile of someone who had successfully pulled off a prank.
"He's not writing about hope... he's killing hope."
Li Yuanchao muttered to himself.
Just then, the bell rang to end the match.
"Time's up! All candidates, please stop answering!"
The staff began collecting the composition books one by one.
When Li Yuanchao received Lin Que's copy, he instinctively reached out and said to the staff:
"Let me take a look at this one first."
He took the composition book, still warm from the boy's touch, and strode back to the judges' table.
Wang Shouyi opened his eyes and saw Li Yuanchao's solemn expression, which puzzled him somewhat:
"Yuanchao, what's wrong? Did you see some promising talent?"
"Old Wang, you...you come and take a look at this."
Li Yuanchao's voice was a little hoarse as he handed over the composition book.
Wang Shouyi accepted it without thinking much of it.
His gaze first fell on the cover of the composition book.
But when he saw Lin Que's name, his indifference instantly turned into obvious disdain, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
"Lin Que? Is that his essay?"
Wang Shouyi snorted and almost threw the composition book back onto the table.
"What's so interesting about his articles?"
"Old Wang!"
Li Yuanchao quickly pressed his hand down, his tone almost pleading.
"Don't judge people with prejudice! Trust me, keep reading, you absolutely must finish!"
Wang Shouyi looked at his old friend with suspicion.
He had never seen Li Yuanchao take a student's essay so seriously, even to the point of losing his composure.
He remained silent for a moment, then finally pulled the notebook back, his eyes fixed on the title with a heavy heart full of doubt.
"Fireflies? The title is alright. Let me take a look..."
He only glanced at the beginning before his brows furrowed.
However, she still forced herself to speak:
"The idea of a world without the sun is nothing but a publicity stunt!"
When he saw the middle section, where the protagonist was carefully nurturing the "spark," he scoffed:
"They're all the same old tropes!"
But when he saw the ending, when he saw that shocking twist, he froze instantly.
His fingers, gripping the text of the book, unconsciously began to tighten.
The office was silent except for the sound of composition books being gently crumpled.
The other judges looked at him curiously.
A full minute passed before Wang Shouyi slammed his hand on the table and stood up!
"You bastard!"
He was so angry that he was trembling all over and his face turned red.
"What does this say?! This is poisonous weed! It's utterly poisonous weed!"
He pointed at the manuscript and roared at the other judges:
He is blaspheming the word hope!
He is spreading negativity and promoting nihilism!
This kind of essay, forget about winning an award, it deserves zero points! It absolutely deserves zero points!
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