I am not a literary giant

Wang Zixu was a little surprised: "Would a famous bestselling author like him, who is so rich, care about a nominal position?"

Lin Feng said, "My teacher thought the same way. Although it's a nominal position, it still requires organizing some activities, and he definitely can't manage the overall situation like that. But he just went against me and insisted on proving me wrong."

Wang Zixu nodded in understanding. He had witnessed Shen Qingfeng's magnanimity firsthand. Someone as arrogant as him would never willingly submit to Lin Feng—he would think, with his great reputation, what right does he have?

Wang Zixu said, "Could we try to talk to him?"

Lin Feng said, "We've tried to communicate many times, but each time he just responds with sarcastic remarks, which only deepens the misunderstanding. There are also some things where he feels we're forming cliques to exclude him, so he turns around and forms cliques to exclude me. Forget it, these are all trivial matters, there's no point in talking about them."

Prince Xu shook his head and said, "As a person, all you need to do is have a clear conscience. You should still fight for what is rightfully yours, otherwise others will think you are weak."

Lin Feng patted him on the shoulder: "You're right. But don't worry, I have a temper too. If he goes too far, I won't sit idly by; I'll definitely fight him."

Prince Xu turned to look into his eyes and saw the discontent in them, clearly indicating that he had something on his mind.

Shen Qingfeng was an overwhelming enemy; the mere spittle from each of his female fans would be enough to drown their two stone lions. Prince Xu couldn't figure out how to fight Shen Qingfeng.

Moreover, it's true that Prince Xu can easily persuade others, and he can make his arguments both satisfying and reasonable in just a few words. But when it comes to himself, he has absolutely no idea what to do.

Even when his female colleagues, ten years younger than him, tease him, he can only manage a single, albeit half-hearted, piece of life experience. What can he do? It's laughable. This middle-aged man is utterly cowardly.

Raymond Lam tossed his cigarette butt into the flowerbed, and his next sentence took a surprising turn:

"I called you out tonight to ask if you've published any articles. If you have, I can recommend you to our Writers' Association."

Lin Feng's unexpected remark made Wang Zixu's chest feel hot:

"Can I?"

"You can do it," Lin Feng said. "Our Xihe Writers Association already had a plan to recruit new members this year, and we were just worried about not having any candidates."

"How many words do I need to publish to cross the threshold of the Writers' Association?"

Lin Feng said, "For online literature, you need to have published more than 30 words. For serious literature published in print media, you only need to have 10 words. If you can publish in top domestic journals, such as 'September' or 'Get,' we'll practically carry you in on a sedan chair if you only publish one article."

The prince took a couple of deep breaths, and his feverish mind calmed down.

If publishing scripts counts as published works, then he has indeed published quite a few works.

But how should he introduce his work? "Look, these scripts are all my work." People ask, "Where do you publish them? Who are your readers?" He says, "Speech therapists publish them on my behalf, and my readers are those with high purchasing power. We're in the literary proxy business."

The other party will most likely glare at you and say: "I think you're not a reseller, you're a manufacturer!"

Each work is like a son to its author. Only Wen Ai is like Prince Xu's illegitimate child. It must be kept hidden.

It's not because his writing is bad. He feels he writes too well, but his motives are impure; he's skewed from the very beginning. In terms of vulgarity, he's even more pandering than the new Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School. He should be considered a neo-new Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School, a libido-enhanced version.

If he were to pull it out, he estimated that Lin Feng would widen his eyes, tremble as he held his script, and shout, "This is an insult to scholarship! An insult to scholarship!" He couldn't expose himself. He was afraid that he would lose even the friendship with Lin Feng.

It's not presentable. It's really not presentable.

Wang Zixu scratched his head sheepishly: "I... have only written some short stories, which I submitted to 'Get' and 'September,' but I haven't heard back from them."

Lin Feng laughed: "Isn't that normal? Being able to publish your work in 'September' and 'Achievement' is the dream of so many writers! But how many of them can actually achieve it?"

"Among the people I know, only Ning Chunyan, the talented woman, has had an article published in 'September.' Who else is there? As a newbie, it's normal that you can't get published. You've chosen the wrong target to challenge."

Wang Zixu said, "Yes, but I'm still ashamed. I haven't published any works to date."

Raymond Lam then asked, "Have you submitted to other magazines? Have you submitted to 'Xihe Literature'?"

Wang Zixu was even more embarrassed: "I've already voted."

Lin Feng asked, "No response? If it's well-written, they should have replied after rejecting the manuscript, right?"

Wang Zixu said, "Not to mention a reply, there wasn't even a rejection letter."

Lin Feng frowned, thought for a moment, and said, "Then let me see the novel, and I'll help you revise it and see why it hasn't been published yet."

Prince Xu was very grateful: "Thank you."

Raymond Lam laughed: "So what? You should pursue literature; it suits you. My intuition tells me you're suited for it."

Prince Xu did not have the habit of carrying manuscripts with him, so the two agreed to meet again in a few days and then review the original manuscript together.

"My wife has met you. The description she gave me was very unrealistic. But when I met you, I realized the contrast was huge," Wang Zixu said sincerely as they parted.

Lin Feng was taken aback, then laughed and said, "Really? When did you meet me, sister-in-law?"

Wang Zixu said, "My wife works at the flower shop, do you remember? She said she talked to you. She's half a head shorter than me, has long hair, and is very beautiful."

Lin Feng squinted and thought for a moment, then hissed and said, "I haven't been to a flower shop recently. When was that?"

Prince Xu said, "Just recently."

"Where does your wife work at the florist?"

Prince pointed ahead and said, "It's the one at the corner of the square."

Lin Feng nodded and said, "I've been having a lot of headaches lately because of the Writers' Association, and I like to wander around. I might have been there sometime, but unfortunately I don't remember."

Prince Xu said it was nothing.

Back home, the house was pitch black. His wife sat on the sofa, the faint glow of her phone illuminating only her head, making the room feel eerie.

Wang Zixu turned on the light and said, "Why didn't you turn on the light? Won't that hurt your eyes?"

"Husband—" the wife looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.

"What's wrong?"

"My colleague told me today—" the wife said pitifully, "we still need to buy a car. I'm pregnant and need to go to the hospital for checkups frequently. It's inconvenient to always take ride-hailing services, and many ride-hailing services don't pick up pregnant women these days."

Wang Zixu sighed, "Of course. Think about it, the early and middle stages are fine, but right before you give birth, if you're not at the hospital and I need to rush you there, how can I manage without a car? I've been saying I wanted to buy a car for a while now. What brand do you want?"

The wife said, "I want to buy a Porsche."

Wang Zixu said, "Are you crazy?"

……

The distinguished Porsche owner, Ning Chunyan, lay contentedly on her bed. She had just experienced a great release, a feeling of liberation, and all her stress was gone. Looking out the window, she realized that it was already dark.

She turned on the light, sat down at her computer, and intended to finish the paper she had been putting off. Just then, a chat window popped up in the group chat, and she clicked on it without thinking. When writing a paper, everything else can take precedence over the paper itself.

This is a literary group. There are many established figures and many rising stars in the group. She doesn't remember how she was invited in, but in short, this group always gets firsthand information about any developments in the literary world.

She had just opened the group chat when she saw a member's hysterical accusation:

"This is an insult to scholarship! An insult to scholarship! How could you be so lewd! Cheng Xing, what are you thinking?"