I am not a literary giant

Chapter 125 As long as there is a home to return to, everything will be saved.

After Zhong Junmin finished speaking, everyone started to laugh awkwardly. Asking someone to eliminate distractions while also being mindful of their own well-being is asking too much of a question.

Zhong Junmin himself realized that his words sounded too pedantic and awkward, and that young people probably wouldn't like to listen to them. He sighed and tried to salvage the situation:

"Actually, lately I've been arguing with Huang Xinghuo every day, and I've started to waver. These days, our students are full of quotes from The Little Prince. At first, I looked down on them, but after hearing them so many times, I realized they do have some talent. But no matter how talented they are, their writing style will never be respectable. I just don't want you to end up like that."

Prince Xu never expected that the topic would suddenly shift to the Little Prince, who was completely unrelated to him. Although the Little Prince was still him, he really hadn't anticipated it, and for a moment he even thought his identity had been exposed.

Wang Zixu said, "Professor, you don't need to worry about that."

Because it has already fallen to this state.

Zhong Junmin nodded: "That's good, that's good. 'Literature, history, astronomy, and calendar are akin to divination and sorcery, something that rulers would play with, entertainers would keep, and the common people would despise.' Even Sima Qian, the Grand Historian, was once deeply troubled by his own shortcomings, but in the end, history gave him the recognition he deserved, and his brilliance shines through the ages. Don't give up on your path because of temporary gains or losses. You must have chosen literature because of certain beliefs. You must stick to your principles and believe in the power of words."

Prince Xu nodded solemnly, and said with a touch of sadness, "Okay, I will."

Hearing the name "Little Prince" triggered a reaction in more than just Wang Zixu. Ning Chunyan interjected, "Professor Zhong, do you still think the Little Prince is mediocre?"

Zhong Junmin shook his head vigorously: "He's not even in the mainstream. He can't possibly be considered mainstream. No matter how well he writes, it's like casting pearls before swine; he can't become a true master."

Wang Zixu was quite disheartened, but Ning Chunyan's eyes lit up: "So, you also think the Little Prince's writing is actually quite good?"

Zhong Junmin's face turned ashen: "Who said that?"

"You just said that 'no matter how well he writes, he can't become a master,' which means he can at least be considered 'good' now?"

Chung Chun-min slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair in anger: "I'm not saying he writes well. I'm saying there's a dividing line between good and bad literature. Part of him is at the top of that line, but that part is the least important part of literature. Apart from that part, the rest can't even be called literature, so you can't say he's good."

Ning Chunyan wisely kept quiet. She disagreed with Professor Zhong's point of view, but there was no need to anger the professor on this matter.

She liked the Little Prince, but this liking was better kept to herself; she knew it in her heart, but it was not appropriate to say it aloud.

Professor Zhong was still displeased after speaking, his face turning ashen as he turned to look at Wang Zixu: "Your writing is also quite good, I feel it's no worse than the so-called Little Prince. Some parts may be lacking, but don't be discouraged, and don't be envious of his achievements. His sudden popularity is just a temporary fad, while becoming a lasting force is what every author should strive for."

Faced with the professor's expectant gaze, Wang Zixu remained silent and could only slowly nod: "...Okay."

It's certain that he's "no less than the Little Prince," it's impossible that he "lacks some aspects," and it's even more absurd to say that he's "envious of his achievements."

Because he is the Little Prince. Of course, this is something one should keep to oneself and not say aloud.

He was very glad that he had decided not to reveal his identity as the little prince, otherwise would he have so many people helping him now? He cherished these connections and would always be careful to keep it a secret in the future, and never reveal the little prince's identity.

Once the Little Prince was mentioned, Professor Zhong started talking non-stop, launching into a long monologue for everyone.

The Little Prince didn't care about Prince Xu's feelings; he cared more about Chen Qingluo. Now, he seemed to be gradually getting used to being in the same space as Chen Qingluo. Even when they were only a few meters apart, he could still behave appropriately and avoid making inappropriate remarks—a remarkable improvement.

To his regret, Chen Qingluo didn't look at him even once. He secretly glanced at her many times, but she never looked at him.

Wang Zixu felt somewhat dejected. Not because she wasn't looking at him, but because even knowing she wouldn't, he couldn't help but check again and again. He knew it was pointless, but he just couldn't resist.

Chen Qingluo hadn't forgotten him, and the two could perhaps try to talk like before. Even if they couldn't get closer, being friends would be wonderful. But Chen Qingluo didn't have that intention.

Why would she pretend not to know him in front of others? She must have her reasons. Perhaps she didn't want others to know about her past relationship with him during her youth, or perhaps she felt that Wang Zixu's life was too unsuccessful and that being close to him would be beneath her. Chen Qingluo's thoughts were unfathomable; who could guess them?

Perhaps it's a good thing she doesn't look at him. He can let go of his longing, no longer gazing at her whom he can't reach, only to add to his torment. It's like poets sighing at the moon, unable to approach it, only able to imagine it.

Just as the professor was criticizing the Little Prince and Prince Xu was deep in thought, Chen Qingluo suddenly spoke, startling Prince Xu.

Why is the Little Prince called the Little Prince?

"What?"

Chen Qingluo said, "What I mean is, who would choose the pen name 'The Little Prince'? It feels a bit...excuse my bluntness, a bit narcissistic. It makes you seem like a pretentious person."

Chen Qingluo's focus has always been peculiar.

Prince Xu felt deeply hurt.

Professor Zhong's ten minutes of output just now couldn't compare to the impact of Chen Qingluo's single sentence on him.

Ning Chunyan quickly said, "No, 'Little Prince' is just an abbreviation. His full account nickname is 'Little Prince Uproots the Bread Tree'."

"What's your name?" Chen Qingluo raised her eyebrows.

"The Little Prince uprooted the baobab tree."

Chen Qingluo swayed, covered her mouth, turned her back to everyone, and her shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

"...Pfft, whoosh, whoosh..."

Prince Xu hadn't seen Chen Qingluo so emotional in over a decade.

She was putting herself in a fierce battle, trying hard not to laugh, but her crescent-shaped eyes betrayed her, and her cheeks turned pink.

Ning Chunyan glared at her: "What are you laughing at? Did the Little Prince uprooting the bread tree make you laugh?"

Chen Qingluo's shoulders trembled even more violently.

"Huh? There are actually people who find this nickname funny? Your sense of humor is really weird."

Chen Qingluo kept laughing and couldn't refute her. Ning Chunyan ran over to see her face and started to play tricks:

"Isn't it just the Little Prince uprooting the baobab tree? Is it that funny that the Little Prince uprooted the baobab tree? Can't the Little Prince uproot the baobab tree too?"

Chen Qingluo squatted down with a soft "yelp," buried her face in her hands, and made a sound like a cat.

Prince Xu felt great again.

How did you come up with the name "The Little Prince Uproots the Bread Tree"? That's brilliant! At least I'm quite talented at naming things!

When it was almost time, they took Professor Zhong to the station. All the way there, Professor Zhong spoke of the literary principles a writer should uphold.

Wang Zixu was initially worried that he wouldn't get along with Professor Zhong, given his status and seniority. But after talking with him, aside from disagreements on literature, he found Professor Zhong to be very approachable.

Perhaps reading more books makes one more broad-minded and tolerant. Professor Zhong did not act like an authority figure; he was like a lovable old man, and even when opinions differed, they could get along harmoniously.

Upon arriving at the high-speed rail station, as they parted, Zhao Peilin shared many useful insights with him.

For example, the postgraduate entrance examination usually takes place at the end of September, followed shortly after the preliminary examination. All told, he only had a little over three months to prepare.

By the time you reach thirty, your physical and mental abilities have declined, and competing with a group of young people doesn't guarantee you'll pass the exam. If you don't pass, all this talk now is just premature celebration; all the talk about senior and junior classmates is meaningless.

Zhao Peilin said he would provide him with review materials and notes. All the materials and notes he prepared for the postgraduate entrance examination, as well as various textbooks and teaching aids, would be given to him, whether he could pick them up or send them to him, it was up to him.

Prince Xu expressed his gratitude repeatedly.

After seeing Professor Zhong off, Ning Chunyan asked, "So, what are your plans next?"

Wang Zixu said, "I made an appointment to meet a friend, and then I planned to go home and take my wife out for a nice meal."

"I didn't ask you, I asked Qingluo."

After laughing about the Little Prince and the Bread Tree, Chen Qingluo felt cheerful for a while, but now, for some reason, she became sullen again, saying in a low voice:

"I want to go home and lie down."

Ning Chunyan's tone was exceptionally gentle: "Qingluo, that wasn't an arrangement, it was just a last resort."

"Then I have no other choice but to accept it."

Ning Chunyan gave her a loving hug: "You're so pitiful. Come home with me, and I'll ask my mom to cook you something delicious."

"I don't want to," Chen Qingluo said, then added, "Call me again when it's mealtime."

"You're going a bit too far!"

Wang Zixu listened silently to the scene, and the thought of Chen Qingluo lying alone in her home suddenly made him feel inexplicably sad.

Even geniuses can be lonely.

After feeling heartbroken, I thought to myself, what right do I have to feel heartbroken for Chen Qingluo? I should take care of myself first, you fool.

Wang Zixu didn't have a chance to speak to Chen Qingluo again, so he called Lin Feng and drove over to pick him up. As soon as they met, Lin Feng said:

"You kept this from me for so long!"

Lin Feng said this, but he didn't seem angry at all; instead, he was smiling. A person who is genuinely happy for their friend wouldn't get truly angry over something like this, and Wang Zixu felt a surge of emotion.

Wang Zixu said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide it from you. The enemy is too treacherous; the more people who know, the greater the risk."

"The enemy is indeed very cunning."

Ever since overhearing Shen Qingfeng and Lin Luo's plot, Lin Feng had given up all illusions about them. He could understand Wang Zixu's actions.

They found a place where Wang Zixu recounted what happened after Zhang Qian eliminated him, leaving Lin Feng deeply moved. He especially envied Wang Zixu for receiving joint recommendations from two talented women, Ning Chunyan and Chen Qingluo. To be appreciated like that, even if he didn't win first prize in the end, was enough to console him.

Upon hearing that Wang Zixu planned to resign, he also expressed his concerns. Resigning at this age is quite risky. Apart from jobs within the system, most companies would back down at his age, and once he resigns, it would be difficult to find a better job.

However, the prince had already made up his mind, so he didn't try to persuade him further, only asking, "Have you discussed this with your wife?"

"Not yet. I plan to have a serious talk with her tonight."

Lin Feng frowned.

"We really need to have a serious talk. Resigning is not an option without family support."

After saying that, he sighed and said, "I also want to be like you and pursue freedom. Sometimes my wife puts a lot of pressure on me, and I wonder why I got married. But when I calm down and see my wife and children living happily together, all my previous worries disappear in an instant."

"For me, home is a haven of happiness. No matter how much I've suffered, endured, and endured hardship while wandering outside, when I return home and see the warmth of my wife and children, everything else becomes insignificant. No matter what difficulties I encounter, as long as I have a home to return to, I will always be saved."

Prince Xu said, "Hmm."

Raymond Lam is a very down-to-earth person, and there are probably many more normal people like him in the world. However, he couldn't understand the kind of emotion Raymond Lam was talking about.

From as far back as he can remember, there were no warm or cozy moments in his family. Before his parents divorced, their lives were already a mess, and after the divorce, there were no healing scenes at all; only Comrade Wang Jianguo walking around grumbling and cursing.

He knew this wasn't normal life. It wasn't just because his classmates at school often teased him: "We all have mothers, you don't, hahaha..." At that time, he wasn't angry. He just thought it wasn't his fault that he didn't have a mother, and he didn't complain to Wang Jianguo—he was already troubled enough himself and didn't have time to care about a child's psychological problems.

It's possible that he developed health problems back then, which led him to harbor doubts about married life. This doubt gradually spread, making him very resistant to intimacy in any sense, which made him seem somewhat capricious.

Whenever he started to develop a close relationship with someone, he would shut them out, leaving them deeply hurt. Throughout his student years, many people fell for his tricks and resented him for it. The only exception was Chen Qingluo. Chen Qingluo was special to him.

He was cold back then, so cold that he seemed devoid of human emotion; he couldn't empathize with other people's sorrows and joys. This coldness, coupled with his tall stature, made him seem cool in a way, and he was pursued by many girls, but nothing ever came of it. It wasn't until a female student in college pointed out his personality problems that he realized he wasn't normal.

After living with his wife for more than three years, his symptoms lessened a bit, and he gradually regained the emotions expected of a normal human being, becoming much gentler. This is the fundamental reason why he is able to sit here and enjoy drinks with Raymond Lam.

"I'll have a good talk with my wife and try my best to get her support. If she's not willing, then I'll give up on this idea," Wang Zi said with a forced smile. "After all, family comes first."

Lin Feng patted him on the shoulder: "You haven't registered your marriage with your wife yet, have you? Get it done soon and try to have a child as soon as possible. Once you have a family of three, life will enter a new stage, and everything will be very different."

Wang Zixu didn't look forward to this new stage of his life, but having lived to this age, he was no longer afraid of it. He nodded firmly.

Lin Feng then told him about Lin Luo and Shen Qingfeng. Because of their setback at the literary conference, the two had been having a lot of bad luck lately and had become much more low-key. Lin Luo, in particular, was listless and dejected every day. Lin Feng felt a bit smug about this, but he was also somewhat worried that Shen Qingfeng might be plotting something bad again.

They agreed to go to the Writers Association together in a few days to register and invite Wang Zixu to officially become a member. Lin Feng hinted to him that if he published another blockbuster novel, he could very well rise to the top and become the vice president of the Writers Association.

After saying goodbye to Raymond Lam, Wang Zixu returned home. To his surprise, his wife was not home; her shoes were not at the door, and the lights were off.

He walked to the dining table, picked up a note, and saw that it was written in small, cold, and stiff handwriting:

"I'm leaving. Don't come looking for me. Don't contact me."

The wife stayed.

(End of this chapter)