I am not a literary giant

Chapter 138 You Don't Deserve the Surname Zhao

Zhao Peilin arrived gracefully, dressed in a small Taoist robe, with a carefree expression and slightly narrowed eyes, exuding the air of a master.

He wanted everyone to imagine him as a wise and accomplished person. In fact, many people did think so. The crowd queuing at the door automatically parted, making way for him amidst their fearful gazes.

Only Lu Qingxuan asked honestly and blankly, "Excuse me, who are you?"

Zhao Peilin immediately looked a bit embarrassed: "I'm your senior! Have you forgotten? Last time you went to ask Professor Zhong a question, I was right there, and I even gave you a couple of pointers. My surname is Zhao, the 'Zhao' in 'You don't even deserve to be surnamed Zhao,' remember?"

Lu Qingxuan nodded: "Oh, I remember now."

She didn't actually remember. The blank look on her face hadn't faded at all, and even an observer like Wang Zixu could tell from her expression that she definitely didn't remember.

The boy next to him, who was just there for show, came over and whispered, "Senior Zhao Peilin is Professor Zhong's student and was the student council president two years ago. He even attended the orientation party before."

This time, Lu Qingxuan truly remembered, and said with a firm look in her eyes, "I remember now."

Zhao Peilin walked over and put his arm around Wang Zixu's shoulder: "Let me introduce you. This is the winner of this year's Xihe Literary Competition. He was jointly selected by teachers such as Li Tingfang, Yanzishan, Chen Qingluo, and Ning Chunyan. It's the most prestigious competition ever. His work was also a specially invited piece for our university and it's still hanging on the fourth floor of the library."

A female student from the student union standing nearby suddenly stood up: "That's him? Isn't that the Nanjing University's invited contributor? So it's him??"

Upon hearing her words, half of the basketball court erupted in noise.

"Did he steal our special invitation spot from the Chinese Department at Nanjing University?"

"So it was him! No wonder he had such a deep background; it turns out he came here with his own skills."

"No wonder he's so confident, not afraid at all when sparring with Lu Qingxuan. Well, another formidable opponent."

"Oh my god, even people at this level have to take the exam? And they're taking it with us? Really?"

Some of the students who came to register knew about this and complained, while others were impressed but didn't understand and looked at Wang Zixu with the eyes of someone looking at an alien genius.

We don't know what the person watching the ox is thinking, but the ox is certainly being looked at with suspicion.

Wang Zixu turned to Zhao Peilin and muttered, "Why are we being so high-profile? Now people think I have a radish pit."

Zhao Peilin turned to Wang Zixu and muttered in a low voice, "Sometimes, you have to pretend, it will save you a lot of trouble."

"Then why don't you mention that I also got the front page for newcomer in the Yangtze River magazine?"

"We'll talk about it later. Showing off requires a gradual, long-term approach."

Although Zhao Peilin had warned Wang Zixu as his senior before the competition: If you win a prize while participating as a specially invited manuscript from Nanjing University, no one will remember you; but if you don't win a prize, I'm sorry, ten thousand people will come out and criticize you.

As it turns out, Zhao Peilin was overly pessimistic about the public's memory. Several months have passed, but the incident at the literary gathering has not faded with time. Now, when it is brought up, the students still remember it vividly and are still filled with indignation.

Regarding the public's mindset, Zhao Peilin was overly optimistic. He thought that winning a prize would silence everyone. In reality, even if Wang Zixu had won first place, some people would still harbor resentment. However, because Wang Zixu won first prize, these people couldn't show their jealousy on their faces. The remaining sour taste rose in their mouths as they whispered amongst themselves.

Zhao Peilin patted Wang Zixu on the shoulder again and said loudly, "I recruited this person from Xihe with Professor Zhong. You could say the professor specifically requested him to come to Nanjing University. It would be a loss of face if he didn't come. Brothers and sisters in charge of the review, please don't make things difficult for him."

After speaking, he paused, his gaze sweeping over the student, and added, "Also, I don't want to hear anything like 'taking up a spot at Nanjing University' again. If anyone's taking a spot, it's mine, and I haven't said anything. What do you have to complain about?"

Wang Zixu looked at Zhao Peilin with gratitude, and for the first time, he felt a sense of admiration for his senior brother.

Lu Qingxuan stood up, pressing her skirt against her chest, her face cold and aloof: "So it was you."

She was fine when she was sitting, but when she stood up, Wang Zixu realized that this girl had really long legs.

Lu Qingxuan then asked, "Did you write 'The Road Ahead Is Safe'?"

Prince Xu asked, "Have you seen it?"

"Yes. I've seen all of this year's episodes."

Prince smiled faintly: "I didn't expect the Xihe Literary Society to be so influential."

Lu Qingxuan said seriously, "Why didn't you say so? If you had said it was you earlier, I wouldn't have suggested transferring to another school. If you hadn't gotten into Nanjing University and had transferred to another school, I would have looked down on you, not just Professor Zhong."

Prince Xu laughed again: "I didn't know you knew me."

Lu Qingxuan sighed, "I've wasted my time with this competition, and now I'm the laughingstock."

Prince Xu quickly said, "No, no, it's not that bad. The back-and-forth between us was actually quite exciting. I only managed to win by using some tricks."

"There's no need to offer any words of 'saving face'."

Lu Qingxuan's tone was somewhat stubborn. After speaking, she muttered to herself, "I also had a lot of... fun just now."

Wang Zixu was momentarily speechless. He was familiar with and could handle girls with aloof expressions, but now that she had suddenly become warm and friendly, he was at a loss. He grabbed his documents from the table and said, "So, is that all there is to the registration? Can I leave now?"

Lu Qingxuan said, "No."

She sat down and, while organizing the materials, said, "Leave your name and contact information, pay the registration fee on the website within a week, and print out your admission ticket. Also, scan this."

Lu Qingxuan held out her phone; the screen displayed a QR code. Wang Zixu, while taking out his own phone, asked, "What's this?"

"This is my WeChat ID. Let's add each other as friends."

"Should we add everyone who signs up?"

"Of course not."

Lu Qingxuan stared at him with eyes as bright as stars, as if she had many things to say. Wang Zixu's hand, which was reaching into his pocket, froze, and he subconsciously said, "But I have a boyfriend."

The man working the tools next to him immediately looked horrified.

Lu Qingxuan stared at him seriously at first, then her face gradually turned red. Wang Zixu thought to himself, "This is bad."

It seems he's repeating the same mistakes he made when dealing with Ning Chunyan.

Lu Qingxuan silently packed the documents into a bag, then patted him on the chest with a sound that was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for him to hear:

"You humiliated me twice today, and I'll remember it. I'll remember you for at least three months and eight days. Hopefully, you'll be able to pass the exam after that."

Three months and eight days, exactly today is the day before the postgraduate entrance exam.

Prince Xu felt a chill run down his spine. This was the first time in his life that he had been threatened by a woman seven or eight years younger than him.

If this can be considered a threat.

After Wang Zixu and Zhao Peilin left, Lu Qingxuan remained expressionless, but anyone could see her anger.

The male assistant walked over, scratched the back of his head, and hesitated for a long time before finally speaking:

"That's why they say middle-aged men are greasy. Qingxuan, you just wanted to discuss literature with him, but he was thinking about something else entirely."

His intention was to offer comfort, but he inadvertently stepped on a landmine. Lu Qingxuan winced in pain, turned her face to the side with a fierce glare, and startled the young man.

He spoke up weakly again, "Qingxuan, don't be angry. He might not even be able to pass the exam. He's already 30. I heard from a senior that the postgraduate entrance exam has a lot of memorization. After 28, memory declines, and it's very difficult to pass."

Lu Qingxuan seemed not to hear him, absentmindedly smoothing her hair: "It's nothing, I think it's fine, we don't waste each other's time. Maybe that's how social interactions are for working people."

The male assistant was once again terrified.

Just then, a somewhat muffled voice rang out: "Submit the materials."

Lu Qingxuan took the file bag with cartoon patterns that was handed to her, then looked up and saw a pretty girl. She immediately composed herself and said politely, "Please wait a moment."

She took out the documents and read them aloud:

"Diao Yiwen, not a recent graduate, born in 1999... Did you also work before taking the postgraduate entrance exam?"

Diao Yiwen nodded: "Yes."

"Have you considered applying for a different major?"

"I'm not considering it." Diao Yiwen hesitated for a moment before saying, "I participated in the Xihe Literary Competition before and got second place. Some people said that my literary foundation was a bit weak, so I studied a little on my own. I'm just here to take this exam for fun. If I pass, I'll study here; if I don't, then so be it."

She spoke with a certain composure and humility, yet she was undeniably a master of deception. She wasn't taking the exam lightly; she had been preparing diligently ever since.

Hearing this, Lu Qingxuan looked surprised, while Diao Yiwen asked, somewhat puzzled, "What's wrong?"

Before Lu Qingxuan could answer, the people around her had already gathered around and started discussing:

"Today is really strange. The top scorer of the Xihe Literature Club just left, and now the second place has arrived. This year's postgraduate entrance exam takers are going to be in big trouble, having to squeeze in with so many geniuses."

Diao Yiwen was somewhat surprised: "He was just here?"

Lu Qingxuan nodded: "They just left."

Diao Yiwen muttered to herself, "It's normal for him to come. He's not working anymore, so he must be here to pursue a master's degree."

Lu Qingxuan raised her eyebrows: "You know him?"

Diao Yiwen nodded: "She used to work in the same unit as me."

……

What are your plans for the afternoon?

"Isn't there a literary salon this afternoon? I'd like to attend. Does your cafeteria have a section for outsiders? I'd like to have lunch here."

"That's perfect. Let me show you around the campus so you can get familiar with the environment and I can also introduce you to Nanjing University."

"Very good."

Zhao Peilin led Wang Zixu along the winding path, spreading his arms and drawing a circle in the air, seemingly trying to encompass the entire campus, but he failed.

Nanjing University is too big.

"Do you know why Nanjing University's Chinese Literature Department is the most prestigious among all universities in our country, and also has the greatest influence in the literary world?"

Wang Zixu seemed thoughtful: "I used to just think that when it came to Chinese literature, Nanjing University was the top choice, on par with Peking University. But I wasn't really sure how much influence they had in the literary world."

Zhao Peilin shook his finger and said, "NONONO, in the public eye, Nanjing University's Chinese department is indeed on par with Peking University's, but academically it's not like that. Peking University's Chinese department has produced some cultural celebrities, but in terms of the quantity and quality of its papers, as well as its professorship system, it still lags far behind Nanjing University."

Prince Xu nodded: "That's why the common people think the two are equally famous, but only the students of this school know the difference in their abilities."

"Yes."

"So, do they think the same way at Peking University? Do they consider themselves the best?"

Zhao Peilin curled his lip: "They're just arrogant, ignorant, like frogs in a well, monkeys in hats, ants trying to shake a tree..."

Prince Xu gestured, "Alright, alright, I understand the situation. Let's move on to the next topic."

Zhao Peilin shook his head: "No, you don't understand yet. I'll take you to a place, and you'll know."

Wang Zixu followed Zhao Peilin, completely bewildered. After walking for 20 minutes, the two finally arrived at a secluded spot.

This is a garden-like place, with winding stone paths that meander through flower-filled meadows, and many dark blue busts standing along the way.

Wang Zixu asked, "A cultural corner?"

Zhao Peilin looked ahead: "Alumni List."

He led Prince Xu onto the bluestone slabs, walking across eighteen stones before finally stopping in front of a bust of a foreigner.

Prince Xu looked at the stone slab below the bust:

"Fu Situi".

"Born in Linköping, Sweden, a city shrouded in mist and clouds."

"Believe in love, believe in beauty, believe in good taste, believe in humanity, and uphold these principles throughout your life."

When he saw that name, Wang Zixu became excited.

"Is Fu Situi also an alumnus?"

Zhao Peilin nodded: "This is one of the eighteen lifetime judges for the Nobel Prize in Literature. Mo Yan won the prize after being nominated by him. The old gentleman especially liked Nanjing University, saying that he had left behind flower-like memories here. He originally requested that his ashes be buried under the campus, but that did not meet the requirements, so in the end, this statue could only be erected to express his condolences from afar."

After saying that, he sighed, "The Eighteen Arhats. I wonder who will fill the void."

Wang Zixu looked at the bronze statue of the old man and found it increasingly endearing. Although he had previously used his Nobel Prize in Literature as encouragement, he had never felt it so within reach.

Zhao Peilin continued, "To win the Nobel Prize, you first need someone to nominate you. Fu Situi is the only sinologist among the lifetime members of the committee. Without him, the Swedish Academy would have no contact with Chinese writers at all, and even if they did, there would always be a barrier. And this gentleman is an alumnus of Nanjing University. Nanjing University is the holy land of Chinese literature. Can Peking University do that?"

Zhao Peilin stood tall and proud. He had brought Wang Zixu here to demonstrate Nanjing University's special status, but he hadn't expected that it would have a deeper meaning for Wang Zixu.

"Are there any sinologists on the Nobel Prize committee now?" Wang Zixu asked.

Zhao Peilin said, "Master Fu Situi also had a disciple named Qiao Sili, who also worked at the Swedish Academy, but he didn't become a lifetime judge. It's hard to say whether the Swedes are paying attention to our literary circles."

Wang Zixu was engrossed in reading, and Zhao Peilin continued, "However, we don't need to pay too much attention to foreigners' opinions. The literary pyramid in our country should be determined by our own people. Come on, I'll take you to see half of the domestic literary scene."

(End of this chapter)