The third day after the essay competition ended was Monday.
A minor earthquake struck the entire literary circle of Jiangcheng City.
The epicenter was the judging panel of the Qingyun Cup Essay Competition.
Wang Shouyi, chairman of the Writers Association, and Li Yuanchao, professor of the Department of Literature at Jiangcheng University.
Two influential figures in Jiangcheng's literary scene slammed their fists on the table and turned on each other over a high school student's essay.
Wang Shouyi was so angry that he left the room immediately.
Not only that, he also made a harsh statement, saying that as long as he was chairman, that "poisonous" article would not be allowed to win an award.
The news quickly spread through various writers' association member groups and literature enthusiast forums.
For a time, everyone was asking what kind of amazing essay it was that could have such magic.
"Have you heard? Professor Li and Chairman Wang had a complete falling out over that essay!"
"What exactly did he write? What could have made Old Wang so angry?"
"I heard from a friend who was there that the topic was hope, but the student wrote a dark, dystopian story that completely destroyed hope in the end!"
"Holy crap, that's amazing! Do high school students these days play this fancy game?"
"That article is called 'Fireflies,' and the author is a student from Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School named Lin Que."
It is said that Professor Li gave it two perfect scores on the spot, saying it was the best student essay he had seen in nearly ten years, bar none!
Did you win the award in the end?
"It's in jeopardy! Chairman Wang has declared that anyone who dares to let this article win an award is going against him."
In the end, they'll probably just get a consolation prize, or they might even be rejected outright.
Various rumors and gossip spread like wildfire, pushing "Firefly" and the name Lin Que into the spotlight.
Countless people are bursting with curiosity, eager to see this legendary masterpiece, or perhaps the true face of this poisonous weed.
Shen Qingqiu's phone hasn't stopped ringing since Sunday.
The messages were all from colleagues and friends in the Writers' Association, subtly inquiring about Lin Que and that essay.
"Qingqiu, who is your student? He's really infuriated Chairman Wang."
"Xiao Shen, could you send me that article 'Firefly' privately? I'm so curious!"
Throughout the day, she said "I don't know" and "I don't know either" countless times...
She was very upset.
On the one hand, Li Yuanchao's high praise for Lin Que made her feel proud and that her judgment was correct.
On the other hand, the conflict between Lin Que's unconventional style and the traditional literary world represented by Wang Shouyi also worried her.
She feared that Lin Que, this rough gem, would be shattered like a stubborn rock before he even had a chance to shine.
On Monday morning, Shen Qingqiu walked into the classroom and her gaze habitually swept towards Lin Que's seat.
That kid is slumped over the table, looks like he's...sleeping?
Shen Qingqiu's temples throbbed twice.
This guy, the whole outside is in an uproar over him.
He, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had happened and even had the mood to catch up on sleep during morning self-study.
How profound is this insight?
She resisted the urge to throw the chalk at him and cleared her throat:
"Start morning reading! Everyone, speak loudly!"
The whole class immediately picked up their Chinese textbooks and began to read aloud.
Only Lin Que slowly raised his head.
He yawned, then reluctantly picked up the book and pretended to talk.
He wasn't sleeping; he was resting with his eyes closed, planning his next step.
Yesterday, after confronting my parents, the outcome was better than I expected.
The impact of two million was so great that they had no interest in delving into the details of the "holographic game script".
This morning, Wang Xiulian asked Lin Jianguo for leave.
They said they needed to go to the bank to confirm something and also check out some properties in the city center.
Lin Que was happy to have some peace and quiet; his mind was now filled with thoughts of his "studio" and his next project.
The success of "Human World is Like Prison" was only the first step in his plan, the accumulation of initial capital.
Although it can bring huge fame and fortune, it is ultimately online literature that cannot be considered highbrow, and is even regarded by many as "spiritual opium".
He needs another identity.
A bright, great identity that can be accepted by the mainstream literary world, and even worshipped.
An identity that will allow him to produce works like "To Live" and "One Hundred Years of Solitude" without being questioned in the future.
He needs a completely new pen name.
A name that is the complete opposite of the madness and darkness of the "Dream Weaver of Hell".
The name should be low-key enough.
Like an undercurrent beneath deep water, it remains unseen and unassuming.
Yet it contains the power to overturn everything.
Lin Que's fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, his gaze fixed on the silent horizon outside the window.
He thought of two words: "profound insight".
Insightful and discerning, with profound and far-reaching vision.
Hear thunder in silence, and see flowers blooming in the colorless.
That's called seeing the depths.
This name is fitting for the warm and great story he is about to embark on.
The first shot in "seeing the depths" must be both loud and beautiful.
The work he chose was Keigo Higashino's previous masterpiece of healing literature—"The Miracles of the Namiya General Store".
This work has so many merits.
First of all, it is warm, healing, and full of the brilliance of humanity.
Secondly, its structure is ingenious, connecting several seemingly independent stories through letters, with interwoven time and space, and a brilliant concept.
Finally, its core theme is about choice and redemption, and it's full of positive energy.
This can be used to refute the accusations of Wang Shouyi and his ilk that his thoughts are dark.
Use the warmest stories to reveal the brightest identity.
Absolutely perfect.
He had already decided on the platform for submitting his work: the city's top-tier pure literature journal, "New Tide."
The magazine "New Tide" was founded nearly a century ago.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com