If you write in line with the mainstream,
With his writing skills, it wouldn't be difficult for him to get a high score and advance to the semi-finals by writing a eulogy-filled article.
But that's too boring.
Since it is "to ride the whirlwind," since it is to "soar up ninety thousand miles on a whirlwind."
Then you can't fight with others for food in the mud.
If you're going to do something, be the one who flips the table.
Lin Que closed his eyes, and the bookshelves in his mind began to spin rapidly.
He needs a story.
An article that can dissect the word "happy event" into fragments.
A story that can thoroughly satirize this kind of "joy" built on fame and fortune.
The True Story of Ah Q?
Kong Yiji?
no.
What he needs is neither a cry of compassion nor a call to find joy in suffering.
He needed an extreme absurdity, a frenzy performed amidst deafening gongs and drums.
What kind of story should it be?
A scene gradually became clear in his mind:
Countless fawning smiles surrounded a disheveled man covered in mud, like stars fluttering around the moon.
The man clapped his hands, laughing and crying amidst the shower of congratulatory gifts and compliments...
A name, a monumental work that had been gathering dust in this world, crashed into his consciousness.
The Scholars.
And in that book, there is a story...
It's practically tailor-made for today's topic.
An old scholar who spent half his life taking the imperial examinations, until his beard turned white and his family was so poor they couldn't afford to eat.
Amidst countless taunts, cold stares, and insults, one day, he suddenly won.
That's a tremendous joyous occasion.
But this joyous occasion was too great, too great for his long-suppressed and distorted heart to bear.
So he went mad.
Amidst the crowd's compliments, disheveled and covered in mud, he clapped his hands and laughed loudly:
"Hey! It's done! I won!"
It condenses a person's entire life into the explosive moment of passing the imperial examination.
That's the ultimate irony.
A seemingly absurd "madness" exposed the cannibalistic nature of the entire feudal system.
It also exposed the ugly faces of those sycophants around them.
That's it.
Lin Que had an idea.
However, it cannot be copied verbatim.
"The Scholars" is written in classical vernacular Chinese, so it can still be understood in this world.
However, some contextual and official title settings need to be slightly adjusted to better align with the world's vague understanding of ancient times.
At the same time, the dramatic conflict needs to be amplified.
What he wants to write about is not just a madman.
What he wants to write about are all the souls in this world that are twisted in their pursuit of a better life.
Lin Que took a deep breath and picked up his pen.
The examination room was quiet, with only the scratching sound of pens gliding across paper, like silkworms munching on mulberry leaves.
Most test takers wrote phrases like "Sunshine bathes the earth" and "Sweat irrigates the flowers."
Lin Que's lips curled into a faint smile.
He neatly wrote four characters in the title bar:
Fan Jin's Success in the Imperial Examination.
The title is so cliché, it's downright trite.
But the first line of the text was like a thunderclap, exploding on the page.
There is no description of the environment, and no prelude to expressing emotions.
He threw that most ironic, noisy, and absurd scene directly at the judges' faces.
Lin Que, with his swift and powerful pen, penned the opening of that classic story:
Fan Jin either didn't read it at all, or he read it once and then read it again.
He clapped his hands, laughed, and said:
"Alas!
I won!
I won!
...
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com