I am not a literary giant

The top leader was called a "Confucian official." "Confucian" here refers to a scholar, praising his profound learning and cultivation. But this "Confucian" also implies elegance and refinement. The top leader was an elegant person; conversing with him always felt like being enveloped in a gentle, spring-like breeze.

Then he said, "That's fucking good."

That means it really is quite good.

However, a Confucian official forced into this situation would probably have even more complicated feelings.

This "fuck" might not be the kind of "fuck" that expresses admiration or appreciation; nor is it the kind of "fuck" that expresses sarcasm or indignation.

There's a mix of exasperation and amusement in that "damn it." It's like telling you to stir-fry some organic cauliflower, but you hear it as asking you to participate in a math competition. And you actually win an award.

To praise him was an understatement, as he hadn't fulfilled the leader's expectations; to criticize him was an understatement, as winning an award was quite a rare achievement. He spoke with a sense of helplessness, his praise was amusing, and all his words ultimately boiled down to a single, emotionally charged "Damn it."

That's pretty much how leaders feel.

However, this paraphrased "Damn it" is the most beautiful sentence that Wang Zixu has ever heard in his life.

Wang Zixu doesn't like looking back; he's not old enough to do so yet. But if he had to stand at this juncture in his life and look back, in his thirty years of life, no one had ever praised his literary talent in front of him.

His father was a rough man who liked to force him to run, and he would always cry while running. Whenever Wang Zixu wrote something and showed it to him, he would just throw it aside and say, "Why write this crap? I don't understand it."

His father was a dualistic materialist who divided the world into only two categories: the conscious world was "vagina," and the material world was "penis." These two classifications permeated Wang Zixu's entire childhood.

The downside of dualism is that it can easily make people stupid. Not stupid yourself, but stupid those around you. For a long time, Wang Zixu couldn't escape the nightmare of "that thing."

When he entered high school, his father always nagged him, saying that humanities were useless and that science was the way to go. He said, "What's the use of writing good essays? Can you make money by writing essays?" So he studied science.

When choosing his major in college, he originally wanted to stand up for himself and fight for the literature department, but his father coerced and bribed him, even resorting to physical violence, until he changed his major to engineering.

As he grew older, Wang Zixu realized earlier than others that he could never get what he wanted. He drifted further and further away from his beloved literature, and if he hadn't been so determined, literature would have been a completely different part of his life.

There is no such thing as predetermined misfortune in this world, only the stubbornness of clinging to something until death. That is why he suffers.

Over the years, the only place where his writing had ever received recognition was Wen Ai. He almost thought he was born unsuitable for literature, but just when he was about to despair, his life took a dramatic turn for the better.

So when he heard the big boss say "damn it," he didn't find it offensive at all; instead, he felt an unprecedented sense of warmth. This is what is meant by "a single word of praise brings greater honor than a royal robe."

Director Mei said, "Wang Zixu, oh Wang Zixu, yesterday you were gambling on books and drinking at the banquet, and today you're writing poetry in the midst of a crisis in the government office. Overnight, the whole of Xihe knows you!"

Wang Zixu looked up, his lips pressed tightly together, every muscle in his face tense, but Ning Chunyan's voice came from beside him: "What? You're Wang Zixu?"

Shen Qingfeng exclaimed, "What? He's that guy with the 'Cai Ming' nickname?"

Mei Rucheng said, "What Cai Ming?"

Ning Chunyan asked, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Shen Qingfeng said, "No wonder you stood up for me when I called you 'Brother Caiming'."

Section Chief Liu asked, "Were you just talking about this?"

Chen Bin asked, "What's the juicy gossip?"

Section Chief Liu said, "You don't know?"

Ning Chunyan said, "Did you do this on purpose? You made me look like a complete fool of myself!"

For a moment, everyone was talking. The noise meant it was lively, but this liveliness didn't belong to Prince Xu.

"Alright, alright, stop arguing, let's get down to business."

When Mei Rucheng spoke, the entire office fell silent.

He smiled at Wang Zixu and said, "Wang Zixu, why do you think I wanted you to come here?"

Things finally returned to the original purpose of Prince Xu's visit that morning. He had countless guesses in his mind, but he dared not say them out loud. He could only shake his head anxiously, while also feeling a little expectant.

Mei Rucheng laughed, "I called you over to see what you were like. If you were suitable, I'd transfer you to our policy research office. But before you even arrived, you've already done something remarkable, making us look foolish in front of you. Wang Zixu, you've really embarrassed us!"

Upon hearing this, Wang Zixu's face revealed an undisguised expression of disappointment.

Mei Rucheng, oblivious to the change in his expression, continued, "I usually don't say this much to people from other units, and they wouldn't ask you to help revise drafts without considering the consequences. The fact that they let you touch the drafts means they consider you one of their own. So, of course you passed."

Seeing that Wang Zixu remained silent for a long time, he assumed he was too excited and hadn't recovered, so he continued, "Your Director Gou is my apprentice. Asking him for the person is just a matter of a word. So, what's your intention?"

Wang Zixu finally spoke: "I haven't written many official documents..."

Mei Rucheng said, "What does it matter? Now that you're here, you're my last disciple, and with Section Chief Liu around, we'll teach you step by step! With such a good foundation, you'll definitely become one of our city's best writers very soon."

Wang Zixu's lips were a little dry: "But I'm just a government employee..."

Mei Rucheng said, "Once you're promoted from a public institution employee to deputy section chief, you can change your status. We'll temporarily transfer you here, and after three to five years, when the leaders are familiar with you, we'll bring it up with them, and then it'll just be a matter of following the procedures."

Prince Xu remained silent.

Actually, before he came, he was full of his literary dreams. For example, could it be that Director Mei wanted to use his connections in the cultural world to introduce him to "Xihe Literature and Art"?

But he got a realistic answer – yes, what else could the government office have called someone from another unit over for no reason other than a temporary transfer?

"Reassignment" means that a higher-level unit takes people from a lower-level unit without giving them official status; they're essentially being used for free. They're all sent to be treated like slaves.

Of course, a higher platform has some implicit benefits. But Wang Zixu's ambitions lie elsewhere.

Changing one's identity is certainly a wonderful opportunity, and if his wife found out, she would definitely be crying and begging Wang Zixu to take advantage of it. But Wang Zixu knew that an opportunity was just an opportunity.

In his past life, he had been misled by the word "opportunity" for far too long. He no longer believed in a career in government. The only opportunity he was now willing to pursue was the 50 chances to win the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Wang Zixu asked, "Director Mei, may I ask you a question?"

Director Mei said, "Go ahead and ask."

"When writing reports in the research lab, is it permissible to put one's own name on them?"

Director Mei looked around in surprise, then couldn't help but chuckle: "What kind of question is that? How could you possibly sign your own name?"

Section Chief Liu said, "The materials you write are all collective works, so the signature will definitely be the leader's name."

Wang Zi bowed slightly and said, "Thank you for the invitation, Director Mei, but I would still prefer to write something that I can sign my own name."

Director Mei's expression changed: "Are you really not coming? Have you thought this through?"

"Yes. I've thought it through."

Director Mei raised her voice: "Don't be fooled by how popular you are these past two days. In another two days, nobody will even know who you are. This is a rare opportunity. If you refuse this time, I won't bother to come and invite you back three times."

Prince Xu said, "I have already made up my mind."

Section Chief Liu said, "Brother Wang, take your time to reconsider. If you're refusing because you can't have your name on the document, that's too... naive. Writing reports is inherently a solitary task. Without ten years of silent, arduous work, how can you expect to see the light at the end of the tunnel?"

Wang Zixu turned to look at him, his figure seemingly transparent at that moment: "Section Chief Liu, I have been unknown for ten years."

After saying that, he waved his hand and said, "Thank you for your trouble, leader. I'll head back now."

After Wang Zixu left, Director Mei remained silent for a while before throwing the manuscript paper on the table.

Section Chief Liu forced a smile and said, "Xiao Wang still has a bit of a scholar's pride, so he might not be well-suited for officialdom."

Mei Rucheng's face was extremely ugly: "What kind of scholarly pride? If he has pride, why is he working so hard revising manuscripts and writing poems? Isn't he just trying every means to show off? I think he's obsessed with officialdom."

Section Chief Liu said, "Maybe he's just naturally kind-hearted?"

Mei Rucheng said, "Nonsense."

He lit a cigarette and shook his head: "I really don't know what he was thinking."

He tossed the manuscript to Section Chief Liu and said, "Since he's not coming, you'll have to take the manuscript to him and ask him to turn the meeting into a news report and send it to the TV station."

Section Chief Liu exclaimed in surprise, "Why are you asking him to write the press release?"

Director Mei said, "When he was here just now, I was afraid he would get cocky, so I didn't tell him that the big leader praised him more than once. He specifically asked him to write it."

After saying that, he sighed and said, "What a promising talent for writing reports, yet he insists on pursuing such abstract and ethereal literature. Isn't that a waste of his talent?"

……

As Prince Xu walked out of the government office building, he felt unusually relaxed and didn't feel at all that he had wasted such a great opportunity.

But when he thought of Director Mei, he still sighed in his heart, what a talented person he was, with an innate sensitivity to words and such a good writing style, yet he only stayed at his desk writing materials for his superiors and failed to leave any spiritual wealth for mankind. Wasn't that a waste of his talent?

Prince Xu walked towards his home.